Day 21 - Week Three
What Is Once Seen Can Never Be Unseen
I am having to face the revenge of the dragon today. I am getting my first taste of coming out of flatline and the return of sensitivity to my nether regions. I am also having night dreams of preparing to access porn for PMO. Of course there is accompanying day dreams of vivid pornographic detail.
@MoseY mentioned in his journal about not dwelling on the thought and thinking with the prefrontal cortex. This comment of his served as a constant reminder for me today. As soon as I got on the freeway to drive to Portland, I felt my brain?s pleasure centers light up and assume their habitual state of driving my car to the video porn arcade. I could feel the center of my brain gently glowing in anticipation of viewing porn and struggled to remind myself that the prefrontal cortext had to do the thinking. I had to use and think with the only part of my brain that was going to have enough sense to see the wisdom of common sense. So thanks, Mose.
Extinction Training
As I drive around Portland, I knew what my body was going to do. It always drives the car to the porn shop. So I let my automatic brain run its program and do the one thing I have never been able to control, driving to the porn shop, with an unlimited channel video arcade. Before I knew it I pulled up in the parking lot and parked in the same spot as I have, literally, hundreds of times before.
So here I am. Just a matter of feet from the threshold to unlimited pornography and various opportunities for orgasm. So I sat there for a minute looking at the door, tapping my forehead, thinking with my prefrontal cortex. ?If I cross that threshold, I start counting all over again. This is no longer Day 21. This is Day 0.
I looked at the ruddy complexions and the empty faces of the men coming and going through that door. I looked at their eyes as they hurried by trying to look at the ground, being anonymous. I thought about how it would feel to watch porn and have gay sex with them. My feelings of addiction were overwhelming. ?It?s right in front of you, buddy! Candyland! Let?s just go in there!?
So, I turned on the radio to a classic rock station and the David Bowie song ?Rebel, Rebel? was on. My radio will play for 20 minutes once the key is removed from the ignition. It only stops if I open the door.
I let the music speak to my soul and just remembered the days when those songs first came on my radio as an early teen. It took me back. The days when I was young in the 70?s. The days before I had ever dreamed of being the sick, addicted, perverted fat fuck I became. I let the music wash over me and alter my mood, change my brain?s current wiring configuration.
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Rebel, Rebel - David Bowie
- I hate myself for loving you - Joan Jett
- Come Sail Away - Styx
- van halen - Everybody Wants Some
I decided I wanted to read from my phone, the book
?Your Brain On Porn.? I just happened to have it with me. ?How convenient!? I thought, while I sat in front of the porn shop feeling the sexual urges to misbehave. I searched for and read the section about
Extinction Training or
Exposure Response Prevention Therapy. It?s a hardcore method of blasting your bad habits to fucking hell and basically screaming FUCK YOU at them. (Which I have a bad tendecy to do, as you know.) One can experience side-effects from it, but I have been through anger management and feel I can handle the side-effects of rage and homicidal violence. (just kidding, only rage and outbursts of anger are the real side-effects
((The book even says it?s not for everybody.))
So I listened to the songs, and when David Lee Roth had revved me up sufficiently to feel my ultimate sense of hard rock empowerment. My radio powered itself off at the 20 minute mark. I started up my car and drove myself home. Flipping the bird to the porn shop and tiger woods fist pumping as I left the psrking lot and hit the road.
Fuck porn. That shit is for losers.
I had a feeling of a new lighter, faster, stronger, more brilliant me emerging out of a thick fat suit of heavy, weighted blubbery mass. As if my chest was being unzipped vertically and my new self was stepping out of this sloth and rotten old suit of fat and toxic goo. I am not all the way out of it, but I can feel my new self shaking it off and fighting to get out of it like a heavy coat of an old shit-self