Radical Nineteen Layers


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[Post-Midnight Post]

One more post for today, while the topic is still fresh in my head. I just did some [Post-Midnight MO], giving in to my 6,555th erection of the day. I wouldn't have gotten so many erections if I hadn't spent so much time in my room; learning this lesson even just one more time after today would be quite the embarrassment. Once again there was practically no P fantasy, but this time the healthier sexual fantasy was a bit more common. And again it went from exciting to meh, the novelty wearing off before I finished. MO is getting boring, give me some funky sex dreams please


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I have plenty of more stuff to write about, sorry Jinx all of these entries will take you a while to get through 😅.
I shared this journal with her boyfriend recently. I'm not placing an expectation on him to catch up and follow it consistently, I just wanted to share it with him because I trust him and he's into journaling as well. I virtually met and befriended him shortly after Jinx began streaming last year. He's a very admirable guy, and I adamantly hope that their relationship continues to thrive.

Anyways, I got a non-morning-wood erection within an hour of waking up this morning, and I was just like, "Fuck it, I'm getting this over with now". This MO session was a sign of regression: P flashbacks were more difficult to block out, I was more dependent on fantasy, and the line between "healthy" and "P-inspired" fantasy was blurrier. I was able to make it more exciting than before via technique [and probably via those sketchy thoughts too...], but that didn't justify doing this compulsive session. And with enhancing the excitement being on my mind, my urges to use a visual aid were stronger. I refuse to be in my room unless necessary, writing this entry on my phone in the kitchen.
This session yielded a revelation for me. I've been happy about the moments in these MO sessions in which fantasy isn't necessary, but there's something else that's sometimes happening in these moments, something that's P-influenced: I'm taking the "Big=Sexy" mentality that I have yet to fully correct, and applying it to myself, now that my perception of size is more realistic and my confidence is stronger and my focus during MO is directed at the physical action and sensation. I'm getting off to my own size, I am the porn! I'm a fucking clown💀
  • It's OK it's not explicitly P it's a sub
  • It's OK it's not lewd enough to be a sub
  • It's OK you won't have to harm Bless
The first two were often followed by escalation, what would make the third one any different? Here's how I should've been thinking about this sort of stuff from the start: If it's a net negative for my reboot, I shouldn't do it. If this escalates further, I really will take one of Bless's lives.

[C'mon dude, focus on the stuff that women really care about]

When I wrote the entry that mentioned my attraction to older(-older) women, I felt like something was off. In hindsight, a lot of things were.
I might have implied otherwise, but my interest in pursuing hookups and sex buddy relationships with women around my own age is stronger than my interest in doing so with older(-older) women by a hefty margin. I remember when I started to go back to content involving younger women, I was like "How did I lose sight of how beautiful these women are?". Porn is powerful.
And I didn't mean to imply that I'd be guaranteed to succeed with older(-older) women, that could easily go the route of my existing history with women, full of rejections.
I'm undecided on the morality and healthiness of this casual sex stuff within the scope of my hypothetical future. I feel like my addiction still has too much influence over the topic. I made it sound like I'd be doing this with the woman's pleasure at the forefront of my mind, but wouldn't I be "using" her? Would she be "using" me? Didn't I recently write about how having a strong emotional connection with your sex partner improves the quality of the sex? Am I overthinking things for the billionth time? Anyways, it's obvious that hookups and sex-buddying have more parallels with (P)MO than committed relationships do, so I ought to stick to the latter.

I got impatient regarding dating sites again, joining a niche-ish one that I just discovered. This site seems like it's an ideal one for me though, so I feel like my decision to join it prematurely was justified. There were only 3 women on the site who live decently close to me, one of which I considered to be possibly compatible with me. I messaged her, still having some juice ink in the Writing Tank.
Her profile was pretty barren. She had a very cute selfie, but barely any information about herself besides this:
  • "Looking for my soulmate"
Considering some of the stuff that I've been writing, can I really consider myself to be compatible with her?
I'd say yes. I'm very much capable of taking that sort of romantic approach, it's just that after all of this time I'm willing to take other approaches as well, in hopes of seeing some success. My romanticization of saving myself for someone special isn't what it used to be; it couldn't remain at its peak when faced with all of those years of unfulfillment. But I know deep down in my heart I'm a romantic, and that can't be taken from me.
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That post was even more braindead than I thought.

After spending some time in reality, and using the part of my brain that isn't as fucked, I realized how nonsensical my supposedly legitimate feelings towards older(-older) women were. I don't want to associate intimacy with them at all anymore. It was weird fetishization, and it was the porn talking, not the real me. I remember getting near this level of clarity regarding this topic before, but I must've forgotten it at some point. The fact that I MOed twice after making that post shows how off-kilter I was being [The fantasies used in those MO sessions were of younger women though].

I remember when I started to go back to content involving younger women, I was like "How did I lose sight of how beautiful these women are?". Porn is powerful.
That's right, I didn't wake myself up by looking around and noticing a plethora of lovely young women around me, I did it through the means of porn.
I wish that I had a more typical college experience, and again, I wish that I was more normal. But wishing won't do me any good.

Also, how many women of any age would want to choose a scrawny socially inept virgin for sex? I'm so fucking detached from the real world, it must be painful to read this shit.

[Angsty rambling deleted, too shortsighted and irrational]
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I don't want to end today's journaling on such a negative note, but I don't feel like writing a full entry, so here's this homemade meme instead
I haven't actually told anyone there about this stuff, that would be weird


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I keep thinking about hookup stuff, and I keep sexualizing myself, with angles of objectification for both. Maybe this is the sort of path that my brain is trying to get me on, now that it's having a more difficult time with sparking relapses. Or maybe it just wants me to think that it's given up on that, in hopes that I'll let my guard down and eventually ruin my sobriety. Or maybe my "overgrown teenageritis" is acting up, considering how horny and moody I've been. Regardless of why it's happening, I hope that the Lust:Love ratio of my thoughts shifts towards Love.

I've been able to enhance my problem-solving abilities during this reboot, through recognizing irrationalities and developing determination and critical thinking. Here's something that I came up with last night:
I don't have to let my lack of a driver's license prevent me from seeking out women near(ish) me on dating sites. If I make it clear in my profile that I don't have one, then my presence on the site will be "justified". If she "Likes" me without viewing my profile and is bothered by me lacking it, that's on her. Again, I'm not going to let the possibility of inconveniencing some people hold me back from solving this personally massive issue. But because this aspect of mine is so detrimental to my value, I'll remain invisible on the mainstream sites, applying this "strategy" to nicher ones instead.
I just joined a relatively niche one that a friend of mine recommended a while ago. I know that dating sites can be triggers, but I've been doing OK with that obstacle. Not perfect, but OK.

When I rant about how much of my life that I've "wasted", sometimes I forget that the pandemic happened, which threw just about everyone off. I remember feeling energized about self-improvement (including driving) in the time before it struck, having just started the job that I have now. I kind of let myself go during that era, but this was also when I began to learn about porn addiction and sexual exploitation and stuff, so it wasn't all bad. I ought to be grateful that I made it out seemingly unharmed, and make the most of my time on earth
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Sobriety has continued, and my guard has remained in place. I forgot to make "Two Weeks of Strength" yesterday, but "Two Weeks and Two Days of Strength" is a decent enough title to use, so I'll do that tomorrow.

There are many more topics that I want to talk about, but I feel like I'm all journaled out 😅 I'll power through, gotta get these thoughts down.

It's critical that enthusiastic, genuine consent is present during all sexual acts. This is practically never achieved when the sex is purchased; you're using the power of money to bypass the fact that she doesn't actually want to do these things with you, thus reducing her to being an object under your control. Not only is this an awful thing to do, I would go so far as to consider it a form of rape, and I'm not at all alone in that stance.

Not only does she not want to be having sex with you, she doesn't want to be in the "industry" at all. Of course, leaving it is easier said than done. The ways in which it entraps these women is tragic, including
  • The heartlessness of their boss(es)
  • Vulnerability to developing drug addictions
  • Crippling issues with self-worth, dehumanization, alienation, etc.
  • Losing confidence in their ability to escape their current life
If you really want to help these women out, do so in a way that's actually effective.

I'm definitely forgetting some major points that I've learned over the last two years, but the existence of what I've already brought up is more than enough reason to avoid exploiting these women. There are reasons why doing so is bad for the buyer as well, some of which I'm remembering. Obviously these ones aren't as important, but they're still very much worth mentioning.

Prostitute sex isn't as fulfilling as "real" sex, even if you block out the immorality. You might have some kind of romantic feelings for her, but it's very unlikely that they're felt in return. And even under those circumstances, the fact that it's merely a transaction remains. I'm very, very aware of how awful intimacy starvation can feel, but prostitution is a bandage filled with holes that you beat up an innocent woman to get your hands on.
It's difficult to imagine a prostitute-exploiting man who's innocent of objectifying other women, who treats sex as an effort to have both participants be pleased, who doesn't feel entitled to receiving sex whenever he wants it. You wouldn't be the exception
The points that I shared several entries ago regarding some of the problems that prostitutes and camgirls have to deal with also apply to other types of performers in the porn industry, as well as strippers and other miscellaneous groups of people. Off the top of my head, I'd like to mention some of the other issues that porn performers face, which will obviously further incentivize you the reader from going back to P.

The porn industry is rife with manipulation. They seek out vulnerable people, they coerce them into signing a contract, they force them out of their comfort zone, they screw them over financially, they rarely offer support for them even if they begin to show signs of depression, etc.
Some porn markets itself as "ethical", but you can never really be certain that it deserves to be labeled as such. The performers feel pressured to lie about how well they're being treated, for the sake of their career. Keep in mind ⬇️
  • Vulnerability to developing drug addictions
  • Crippling issues with self-worth, dehumanization, alienation, etc.
  • Losing confidence in their ability to escape their current life
There's also cases in which the performer doesn't realize how immoral the way that they're being treated is.

Filming the scenes can be an awful experience for the performers
  • Pain
  • Lack of care for sanitation
  • Reshoots
  • Needing to take performance-enhancing drugs
  • Needing to keep up the façade
  • The feeling of degradation
And when it's all over and produced, it'll be on the web forever, an eternal reminder of their suffering for the sake of us consumers. We've been supporting this exploitation, while simultaneously harming ourselves. Doesn't it just make you sick? Yes Brains, it is sickening.

My self-hatred should be focused on the fact that I consumed this content so many times, even after I began to learn the truth about it. That would also happen to make it easier for me to defeat my self-hatred, through the means of abstinence and raising awareness.

Yeah there are some forms of porn where these problems exist in a lesser form or not at all (home videos of genuine and loving sex shared and kept up online with the consent of both parties, drawings that some random person made and shared for fun, etc.), but this material is still bad for us addicts, so we ought to keep avoiding it.

I didn't include "Nudes + other stuff taken and sold by individuals" because in some of those cases there's a pimp of sorts behind the scenes. Not to mention the fact that the websites that are dedicated to enabling people to do this are pyramid schemes, overhyping people's chances of making bank and underemphasizing the permanence of the content.

In the era prior to beginning my first journal, I tried to deescalate the content that I was getting off to, in hopes of making it as softcore as possible. I suppose that I became old-fashioned, gravitating towards looking at solo and group pictures of women, sometimes clothed.
How much of this content was shared without consent? Makes me feel like even more of a creep. I hope that you feel similarly, Reader, but I also hope that you internalize it as guilt rather than shame. And if you've never engaged in this sort of behavior and are reading this for some other reason, great! 😄
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[Post-Midnight Post]

I had another Certified Clown Moment just now. The clown part is that I've never put a condom on. Yeah, clown car before the horse and all that. I had bought them before and attempted to try them on multiple times, but the stars wouldn't align (I'd go soft due to nervousness, my strong sense of touch would kick in, my logic-defying inability to be a normal person capable of normal things would get in the way, etc.).
I got hard while I was winding down for the day, and I got scared of having another detrimental MO session, so I decided to put my hardness to good use by attempting the condom stuff again. This next part will be a little bit descriptive.

I tried out the 2 largest sizes that I had, keeping in mind my modern evaluation of my dimensions. I was actually successful with my execution this time, but my success was capped. The first one couldn't make it past the head, and the second one made me feel uncomfortable soon after beginning to go down the shaft. I did some research regarding the second one, and it turns out that my discomfort was "justified". The brand has a larger size than the one that I tested out, so that's convenient. This experience made me more nervous about being too big for a future partner(s), but again, I should focus on the things that I can actually control. Also, it's funny that I got multiple erections in one night but didn't MO.
I remember during my earlier attempts thinking "Maybe these condoms are too small", but the miseducated way in which I viewed penis size must've stopped me from following through with the thought.

I thought of a new incentive to focus on relationships over hookups once I'm ready. There's that saying, "Save some pussy for the rest of us". It's normally used as a humorous insult, but for some time now I've viewed my life as an ironic twist on the joke: I have some characteristics that other guys would be jealous of due to societal influences, but I've never taken any pussy had any physical sexual experiences of my own. I used to excuse my loserdom as being some sort of noble sacrifice for the good of my fellow man. The characteristic that stood out the most was height of course, especially since it was unearned. Obviously this wasn't the real reason why I was (am?) such a loser. I wasn't being noble, I was being a clown jester. And I ought to do my fellow autists proud by achieving success with intimacy.

Here's where the incentive comes into play: If I formed a committed relationship with someone, I'd only be "taking" one woman, and there's no argument that's even 1/4th-decent that I'd be in the wrong for doing so. And if you look at this from a female perspective, I'm providing my hypothetical girlfriend with a man, which is a morally good thing to do assuming that the relationship is healthy.

This proves that I'm not a simp; I care too much about being in the moral wrong with both women and men 😆
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Hey Schmuck, sorry to hear about the self-hatred. I don't think you're being fair towards yourself by hating yourself for watching porn. True, there are a lot of things going on in the porn industry that are simply wrong and by watching porn you do kind of support that, but the entire situation is way too complex to personally blame yourself for that. While abstinence and raising awareness might help with defeating your self-hatred, I think the core of it is with being a bit more gentle towards yourself. Stop calling yourself a loser for example. You're not a loser and calling yourself that is only self-defeating.
You're right, I shouldn't be hating myself at all, and neither should other rebooters. I should give more appreciation to how I've improved so far


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My grocery store is cockblocking me.

I was only able to find one pack of condoms that had a chance of working, and it ended up being about as unsuccessful as the second one that I tried out yesterday. I've been going to that store consistently for years, how could they betray me like this? I just want to be prepared 😞

It took me awhile to conjure up the erection that I used for trying the condom on, being careful to avoid pornish thoughts of course. I guess that the surge of lust that I felt recently really was temporary.

The topics in my journaling backlog have been narrowing down to the ones that are more difficult to satisfyingly write about. This kind of "makes up" for how sobriety has been becoming easier to maintain.

When I was messaging my catfish, things were moving pretty fast, and it didn't take long for me to get to the point where I felt like I needed to cut off other women on dating sites. In addition to going invisible on the sites, I intentionally put little effort into the different first messages that I sent to 3 women that I had already matched with, almost in a shitposty sort of way. That was a dick move, not gonna shift the blame to my Asperger's.

I also went invisible very shortly after I began to talk to Aurora, but luckily I didn't need to pseudo-abandon anyone else because of it. I didn't bother to change my status on the autism-focused sites, so I got some "Likes" from obvious catfishes during the period in which I talked to her. However, in the midst of them was someone who I'm pretty sure is a real person, but I must've not realized it at the time. She's one of the women who I messaged earlier this month. Three months passed in between her finding me and me messaging her; she hasn't gotten back to me, so it looks like I messed things up yet again. Yeah I was talking to Aurora at the time, but I should've been more attentive, and I at least could've sent her a friendly message of sorts.

The earliness at which I commit to a singular woman has been critiqued by some friends of mine, and I understand why they feel that way. Again, I'm probably trying too hard to be moral, to the point of making things needlessly difficult for myself.

My cajon session wasn't very good, not gonna upload it. My new plan is to film one every day, in hopes of eventually doing a decent one.
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[Post-Midnight Post]

Inspired by the workplace radio, also applies to the pop songs that it features

Still staying clean, still not feeling very sexual.

I want to discuss how porn affects how women view themselves, not just physically but in other aspects as well, but I feel like I'm too ingrained in the male side of things right now to do it justice. I plan on spending more time learning about sexual exploitation topics from now on, considering how soon the CESE Summit is. Hopefully doing this will make me feel prepared.

It's silly that I'm discussing things of such magnitude in the same environment that I post stuff like this in
My dick beat me in a staring contest this morning.

I was just lying there for a while after waking up, not wanting to get out of bed. Eventually I started thinking about pornish stuff, fancy that. My dick hardened, so I slipped off my pajama pants and challenged it to a staring contest: If it went back to being flaccid, I'd win.

I entered a pseudo-meditative state while staring at my member, trying to block out pornish thoughts. My dick was resilient, but eventually it began to give in and soften.

As I neared victory, the compulsive part of me took over and portrayed the faltering firmness as a defeat for me. Now I was rooting for my opponent, and based on how swiftly they shot back up it was awfully effective. The extent of this reversal, along with my surprise and lack of a response, certified my dick as the winner.

Despite the sabotage that occurred on my side, I wanted to be a good sport, so I reached out my hand for a handshake. Realizing that my penis has no hands of its own, I then reached out my other hand too as a surrogate. My hands, being good friends with my penis, decided to form a group hug of sorts. They were happy that their buddy won, so happy that they began to do a kind of jumping motion together. The hug ended when my penis, uh, sneezed.

I don't feel confident in rematching my dick, so to avoid being challenged I should be more wary of the situations in which it can awaken.
isn't it? But awareness of these issues is critical, so it's more than OK if sharing the information here feels a bit out of place. And to justify my goofyness, maintaining a balance between "Serious" and "Light-Hearted" can be healthy and effective for both the consumer and the creator.
I've been consciously trying to ruin the concept of lewd texting for me (at least temporarily) by reconsuming the content of Anxiety War, a widely-respected independent child predator hunter. He's among the handful of individuals/groups that I financially contribute to that assist in the fight against sexual exploitation. [I'm also a fan of him because he's one of the few people that I can relate to personality-wise, mainly since he also has Tourette's]. He goes over the chat logs that his persona has with the predators in his videos, which makes me feel awkward about my own brief history of messaging sexually. There are only so many parallels, but it still feels effective at discouraging me from looking back on my old conversations. [For anyone curious, Aurora is only 1 year younger than me]
The man that I mentioned in this paragraph takes a similar approach with his own content. He does predator-catching and content creation full-time, so he needs to vigilantly prevent the awfulness of the subject matter from consuming him.

I have a bad habit of letting "Work=Bad" consume me. One of the most aggravating issues of the job, spatial limitations, is the worst that it's been since my early days of working there. The amount of energy/time/brainpower that we need to use to accommodate for this issue is also maddening. You need the spatial awareness of a Secret Service member and the precision of a surgeon to completely avoid colliding your body parts or objects with stuff on a daily basis, too bad the pay isn't as comparable. Although it's been postponed multiple times, they're supposedly going to get a new and significantly bigger building for the 3rd-party-focused company sometime next year, which will allow them to actually market themselves and hire more people and give the first-party-company more space. I don't know if I'll still be there by the time that that happens though.

"Nick we want you to be happy and for you to achieve your goals and etc."

"Nick we really need you here we'll be screwed if you leave"

The issue of the latter kept me captive at my fast food job for months. And it kind of applied to me leaving the marching band that I was a member of until this year, but I didn't let it get to me. I want to have a job that's more meaningful than loudly mutilating tree corpses in order to make someone's kitchen more conventionally attractive while homeownership becomes less feasible for everyone else as the days go by, but I've made practically no effort to put that into motion. At least it's a small family-owned company and not some soulless corporate meat grinder.
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I've been feeling paranoid about something today, so hopefully the process of writing this entry will distract me and make me more levelheaded.

I've remained clean, sorry if the breaking of my daily journaling streak worried anyone. I was busy helping Jinx out with a special stream on Friday, and although I had time I didn't get around to writing an entry yesterday either.

I checked out a different store yesterday, and a gas station today, but neither of them had suitable condoms for me. As I was looking around at the other buildings near the gas station, hoping to see one that might have them, I realized how forgetful I had been; I never checked out the pharmacy! It was there that I found 2 packs that seemed suitable, bless that place. I'll test them out the next time that I get a boner, whenever that will be.
I had a friendly conversation with the female cashier, and it wasn't creepy or self-objectifying or anything like that 😁

Yesterday featured a miracle of its own, one that outshines today's immensely. One of the women that I messaged last month got back to me [Codename: Hearth], and we subsequently began talking to each other. My feelings towards relationships were becoming even more unhealthy that day, so this was an especially fortunate thing to have happened. I'm sure that from a reasonable perspective things with her have been going well, but my paranoia is really acting up.
"Must do everything perfectly, must be 100% morally correct at all times"
I really really really really really really don't want to mess this up.
[We confirmed to each other that we're not catfishes, don't worry y'all]

The Love:Lust ratio of my dreams seems to be shifting towards Love lately, and last night's dream was solid evidence of that. In the dream, I came across a random high school crush of mine, flirted with her, and kissed her passionately. Yeah that sounds kind of lustful, but it's more Love-based than simply having intercourse with someone is.
Welp, it looks like I immediately cheated on Hearth 🤣 Just kidding, it's not a fair comparison. I can't visualize Hearth very well yet, compared to someone that I knew in-person for several years.

I've already gone invisible on the not-as-niche dating site that I recently joined. It still doesn't feel right to me to not do so, even this early on. I wasn't having much luck there though anyways, was never feeling that compatible with the women who "Liked" me.


Earlier in this reboot I figured out why my lustful desires sometimes overtake my lovelorn ones. The lustful ones have a lower pain ceiling, and can be temporarily fooled by (P)MO. My lovelornness has the potential to be more potent, and thus I must've subconsciously done something in order to restrain it, in order for me to keep going. It's terrifying how easy it is for us to torture ourselves through the consequences of our inactions. I don't fully understand how some of the older rebooters manage to not completely lose it, considering how intensely I believe that I've misused so many years of my own. Maybe I'm just a negative person. Anyways, bless them, and bless the younger folks too, especially you Jinx 🫂
Bless you too! Your posts are relateable because I think for many people who attempt these reboots and recoveries in such a thoughtful way also thave to think through and process all of these strange thoughts and perspectives. Which makes the strange normal and not strange at all. You're doing a great job processing your own thoughts and struggles. I believe in you!! 🫂


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I remember as a teenager specifically thinking, "Once I get a girlfriend I'll start caring about stuff more". That plan backfired pretty hard, didn't it?
I want to use this old and regretful mentality in a way that benefits my modern self.
I ought to try harder to be the best person I can be, now that for the first time in months someone I like has expressed interest in me. Yeah it's way too early to consider her a girlfriend, but I shouldn't let that stop me from drawing motivation.

There's a guy in the paid recovery group who has a notable amount of similarities with me, but is about twice as old. He has been dating a woman for a few months now, and things seem to be going really well on that front. I had planned on writing about how I need to draw hope from his story and those of others, but then Hearth emerged 🙂 I can still draw hope from them though, hope that me and her will develop something special together.

My feelings for Hearth are fairly "innocent", their Love : Lust ratio skewing quite a bit towards Love (it's also early to say that I love her, but you know what I mean). Yeah I'm physically attracted to her, but with her I'm more interested in the non-sexual aspects of relationship development. I'd want the sexual things to be introduced at a healthy pace, and you know what? My faith in the value of saving it for someone special has been restored. Not that I would go out and have sex with some other woman while I'm still with Hearth, or that I could even make it happen 🤣

The feelings that I had for girls in the pre-laptop days were similarly innocent, and some post-laptop ones were too, the most notable cases being the two crushes that I formed very shortly after beginning my first journal. I'd say that I feel like a teen again, but that happens pretty often.
Aurora's case was a bit complicated. I loved her, but this love wasn't entirely built on romance; It had a large concentration of "You're a wonderful human being who deserves so much better than what you've received from life. I want to give you the love that you deserve." Of course loving romantic partners as human beings is natural and important, but in this case it was brought to the forefront early on by her telling me what she's been through. I don't remember how or when things got sexual between us, and I'd rather not open those texts back up again.

This Friday at pickleball, I'll be attempting the "Be a normal civilized person" Challenge. Wish me luck


Active Member
[Post-Midnight Post]

Still clean, but nervous about the possibility of acting out in the future as a response to things with Hearth not going ideally.
Conversation-wise, it's been her "turn" to respond since last night, and today I sent her a "good afternoon" text asking how her day had been so far, but she has yet to get back to me. This might not be a big deal, but you know me by now; my paranoia runs wild under circumstances like these. [Worrying about someone's silence has also occurred with online acquaintances before, but luckily those cases were resolved]. These thoughts branched out into other fears involving me and relationships, especially feelings of unworthiness and universal incompatibility. And the sheer fact that I was acting like this compounded everything; I felt like I was incapable of forming a healthy relationship due to how "off-course" I am relative to most other people. This isn't true, but it's so easy for me to believe.
I'm mentally (and in some regards realityly) putting all of my eggs in one basket, for the third time in a row, with acute self-awareness. This is who I am, please don't make it backfire on me again.

My association with her reminds me of the predator-catcher who I've previously talked about twice now, Anxiety War... uh not because of her age, don't worry she's 22 just like me 😅
He describes some of the predators that he's chatted with as "needy", having expressed a desire for attention from his decoy self frequently. This made it seem like they didn't have much going on, and were thus even bigger losers.
I'm capable of filling all of my free time with substantial activities, but none of them are as enjoyable to me as messaging a woman is, so I'd prefer to do that often. Not for the entire day of course, but often. I try not to be annoying with messaging, but my messages can be on the longer side, and clearly have a lot of thought put into them; that could possibly come across as some sort of red flag I guess. Or maybe I'm just being paranoid, exploiting my inexperience to do so. Surely some women appreciate receiving messages like that, hopefully Hearth is one of them.
Similar to the loyalty measures that I take, sending these high-effort messages just feels right to me, and in this case it's the journal-keeping part of me showcasing itself.

I'll send her a "good morning" text tomorrow and ask if she's alright, that's not too weird right? It's not a crime to care about someone, even if that amount of care is at a higher level than one would expect it to be given the earliness of things. A romantic trying to make up for a decade of isolation without scaring people away, it's a real challenge.

For those of you who are facing tough life challenges such as financial insecurity or the death of a loved one, or at least know other people who are going through such things, or at least have a notable amount of awareness of the suffering that such issues cause to the people of this world, my frequent discussions about this intimacy isolation stuff might have gotten on your nerves by now. I acknowledge that it's not at all the worst thing someone can go through, and that unlike many other issues it's actually possible to fix. I bring it up so frequently because it's my greatest challenge to have to face, and although I've discussed things that extend beyond my own life, this is still a journal about me.
I was about to type something out like "You're free to stop reading this if this stuff bothers you", but why would anyone bothered by it still be reading? And wouldn't they have expected things of this nature to be in someone's personal journal? I wanted to write this paragraph for the purpose of combating my paranoia regarding the morality of expecting people to give attention to my relatively trivial journal, but I was basically making up the problem in my head. Can I just like, chill out?

I feel better about my journal now that my sobriety has really taken off, reaching heights that it's rarely seen before. I wish that deleting the first two journals hadn't been necessary, having a full chronicle of my reboot would be nice. [The deletions were mainly due to feeling like I revealed too much. Not in a way that would make y'all worried though]
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[Post-Midnight Post]

I may have not written a new entry yesterday, but the day was far from uneventful.

Yesterday and today's workday involved a lot of very stressful physical labor, plagued by the issues of space, and I didn't handle it well. It's something that I only have to do every couple of months or so, and I'll probably be done with it after tomorrow, so whatever.
The feeling of my life being fairly stagnant makes the stressors of work less tolerable. The solution is to make the most of my free time, which is very much possible despite spending physical and mental energy at work. The four months that I spent in-between jobs two years ago weren't very productive, which is evidence of this being more of a willpower thing.
The money that I earn doesn't mean much to me. Yeah it allows me to buy some personal groceries and help some people out and pay rent to my parents and etc., but those abilities are easy to take for granted over time.

My fears regarding Hearth and relationship stuff contributed to my frustration, and also made it difficult to fall asleep the night before. I lightened up like a kid on Christmas when she got back to me shortly after I got home. Turns out that she was just busy, which is totally understandable of course. Her busyness might be a consistent thing considering that she hasn't responded to my response to her most recent response yet. I'm disappointed that she isn't more available to text, but she's so worth it ☺️ It would be painfully ironic if things fell through after a lengthy period of time of going at this pace and talking exclusively to her, but I'm willing to take that risk.

Later in the evening, I spent some time in an online community that revolves around sharing memes about schizophrenia and conspiracy theories and stuff like that.
Like many other Generation Z males, my sense of humor has evolved in a strange way. To be topical, I believe that there are some parallels between this phenomenon and the escalation of the pornographic content that us addicts consume. I can appreciate conventional forms of humor from various eras and cultures, but a lot of what gets me laughing is of the modern and odd variety. Some of these memes involve going against society, through means such as mental illness or consciously acting like a horrible person. This material appeals to the outsider in me, a common trait for us young men to have these days it seems.
This ties into the awful "I need to feel very special and rebel against society" mentality that I have yet to conquer. Sometimes it's almost like I want to worsen my mental health and retain my intimacy starvation, getting a sick sense of superiority out of it. The isolation involving the pandemic that's happened over the last two years underlined this twisted shit in my head, along with other things that have appeared in the mainstream, such as the "_ days without sex" memes.
Indulging in these thoughts is not only an act of betrayal against everyone who's tried to help me out, it's also a flurry of backstabs against the more rational parts of me. Or in this case, shots to the feet. OK, a compromise: Harpoons shot into my heels. Does that make me Achilles? No, because I'll bounce back; I'll kill these bad habits.

So anyways, I spent a lot of time staring at myself in the mirror that night, moving around and tapping my fingers abstractly. This wasn't just because I was under the influence of those memes, it was also related to something that I had told Hearth. She asked me how my autism affects me, and part of my answer was that I tend to avoid eye contact. [I wanted to tell her that I'd like to practice with her someday, but I quickly decided that it was too early to say something like that].
Looking at my own reflection kind of creeps me out, and can remind me of my loneliness when those feelings are lingering, but last night I was like "Fuck it, this will be a net positive". I suppose that it ended up being so, broadening my perspective.

I developed a now discontinued habit of staring at my dick in the mirror until I got hard, which usually didn't take very long.
Everything gets a reboot!

It seems like my unsuccessful condom-trying sessions put my dick into a deep slumber. I almost completely stopped getting erections, even when I was in my room. I wanted to get and use one two days ago in order to distract myself from my paranoia, but I couldn't, and in hindsight that wouldn't have really helped me overall.
Last night I was adamant about trying out the new condoms, so I did, but only with one of them. I knew that my dick wasn't doomed to be soft forever, but the discomfort that I felt during the condom attempts combined with my flatline had left a worrisome taste in my mouth. I managed to get hard, to try and fail to put a new one on, and to have an MO session. The quantity and types of the fantasy weren't the end of the world, but they were still a bit worrisome.
My standards for "healthy" fantasy have changed in response to meeting Hearth. I took the romantic fantasy approach that I had been developing, and applied it to my memory of what she looks like. I wish that I hadn't required any fantasy whatsoever that night; even the healthier stuff still felt wrong to me. [Objectifying my size was also a thing that happened 🤦‍♂️, or at least hyping myself up to get it at its peak]
The condom that I tried this time was a larger version of one of the ones that I tried earlier, and it probably could've fit on me, but I wasn't as patient this time around, so I gave up before it got past the head. I don't really have a need to figure this condom stuff out though: I'm focusing my intimacy goals on a singular person who lives in a different state, so even if things work out it'll be a while until I need to use them.
[Post-Midnight Confession]

I said that I would acknowledge all of my slipups from now on; it's time to honor my word.

I've been measuring my member and taking pictures of it. I wanted to be certain of my dimensions, and I was still in a self-objectifying mentality. I've discussed in my journal multiple times how penis size generally doesn't matter that much, but I was still focusing on it on a personal level. What a lame thing to do, especially since there are other ways to use your time that will actually make you more desirable to women.

I got the urge to do another needless measurement/photo session tonight, and in order to assure optimal hardness, this time around I eventually resorted to using a substitute: My lewd texts with Aurora. Pretty fucked up, I admit.

This also ended up being an MO session, predictably. It felt better than usual at the end, but obviously I feel shitty about having done it.

This could be an especially impressive trick by my addict brain to set up the Chaser Effect and get off track again, but I feel like this is more of its own thing, despite the correlation between porn and my self-objectification. So I'm not going to harm Bless or expel my mattress again, but I'm on thin ice! I deleted all of the photos of it that I've ever taken, and I promise to stop taking new ones and measuring it [this journal is really something else...]
Anyways, I got a non-morning-wood erection within an hour of waking up this morning, and I was just like, "Fuck it, I'm getting this over with now". This MO session was a sign of regression: P flashbacks were more difficult to block out, I was more dependent on fantasy, and the line between "healthy" and "P-inspired" fantasy was blurrier. I was able to make it more exciting than before via technique [and probably via those sketchy thoughts too...], but that didn't justify doing this compulsive session. And with enhancing the excitement being on my mind, my urges to use a visual aid were stronger. I refuse to be in my room unless necessary, writing this entry on my phone in the kitchen.
This session yielded a revelation for me. I've been happy about the moments in these MO sessions in which fantasy isn't necessary, but there's something else that's sometimes happening in these moments, something that's P-influenced: I'm taking the "Big=Sexy" mentality that I have yet to fully correct, and applying it to myself, now that my perception of size is more realistic and my confidence is stronger and my focus during MO is directed at the physical action and sensation. I'm getting off to my own size, I am the porn! I'm a fucking clown💀
  • It's OK it's not explicitly P it's a sub
  • It's OK it's not lewd enough to be a sub
  • It's OK you won't have to harm Bless
The first two were often followed by escalation, what would make the third one any different? Here's how I should've been thinking about this sort of stuff from the start: If it's a net negative for my reboot, I shouldn't do it. If this escalates further, I really will take one of Bless's lives.
The sparing of Bless's lives and the continued use of my mattress have gotten more difficult to justify. Here's my justification: These pseudo-relapses were under relatively foreign circumstances, ones that have yielded lessons, lessons that throughout my future entries I'll prove to have internalized. I've been clean today, and I'll keep it up! For Bless and my mattress and Hearth and everyone else and myself
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My journaling frequency should be back to normal now. I was keeping myself occupied with a hyperfixation, so although I didn't have to deal with pornish thoughts, I wasn't being entirely productive either. I was barely thinking about sex at all, or relationships, which included distracting myself from Hearth's renewed silence (which I failed to view optimistically). Apologies for the incoming nerdiness.

I went back to Showdown for an hour or two today, and I'm now convinced that making a new team that I'm decently satisfied with is too difficult to be worth attempting. Plus, I've already used my 2 existing teams that meet my standards a bunch of times, so playing the game feels even more pointless than usual. It's clearly time to move on to more important and rewarding things.
Over the past week or so, through the combination of old and new ideas as well as a more positive approach, two became fifteen. I was easily able to resubmerge myself in that world, my memories of it still being quite intact. I was having fun, but I recognized that I can't do it in moderation (at least currently), so I decided on a time to officially end the burst: Getting on the ladder's leaderboard with a fresh account that cycles through all of my teams. I succeeded surprisingly quickly, getting there yesterday, but I still had mons on my mind.

Here's my teams and a fun usage tier list thing for anyone curious. It used to be difficult to find other people's teams back in the day, so posting mine on a topically-unrelated forum that uses the same software as the topical one is funny to me.

To try and get this stuff out of the forefront of my head, I had an MO session right before falling asleep. My intentions were to remind myself of how badly I want to succeed with women, and how I need to do things that will get me closer to that goal. The fantasies revolved around being wanted and valued as both a boyfriend and a sexual partner. I've felt a Chaser Effect this evening to MO again, but if I were to give in, my ranking on the rebooting ladder would drop. Actually, that's a bad analogy; recovery shouldn't be viewed as a competition. We're all teammates, and although some of us have accomplished more than others, we're all valuable people 😁
[No I'm not just saying this because Jinx would be ranked higher than me 😅 Good for her though, she's accomplished so much]

Coincidentally, Hearth texted me back a minute after my alarm went off. That was an awesome thing to wake up to 😄 In addition to continuing the conversation, she gave more context regarding her periods of silence. Yeah she gets overwhelmed sometimes, but there's also times in which she simply doesn't feel very social. That's totally understandable, especially for someone on the spectrum, you wouldn't want to force conversations. I'm grateful that I'm among the people that she spends some time and social energy talking to. I'll try no to get paranoid about this again (I laughed as I was typing that, fuck 🤣).

I've taken stronger notice to the lewdness of the autocomplete on my phone's keyboard. Reading those words is triggering, I ought to figure out how to clear the history.

According to my notes, at some point in the last week I had another relapse nightmare. This one featured excuse-making in the dream. My capability of doing so is pretty scary, I agree Brain.

This Friday at pickleball, I'll be attempting the "Be a normal civilized person" Challenge. Wish me luck
I feel like I succeeded with this, but that wasn't too hard since there weren't many people there and they skewed towards being older so I was in more of a good-manners mode and the session didn't last very long and the games were less intense and I was tired from the workweek. Sunday's session had more typical factors, and although I didn't act as "normal", me and other people were still having fun.
One of the younger regulars is also wired differently. I've enjoyed befriending him, and his presence there makes me feel more at home. [The "normal" people are still cool too of course]

Hold it!

You said that you "woke up to" Hearth's text, but earlier this very journal, you posted the following:
I'll start using an alarm clock instead of my phone, allowing me to leave it out of my room at night and thus make relapses less likely
I performed a citizen's arrest on myself


I created this cell during my lunch break today, my phone will serve time in it. It earned the right to represent me by stealing part of my soul.
How could you have seen the text so soon if your phone was in another room at the time? Did you metaphorically pay bail for your phone, and grant it further liberty by letting it into your room at night? And didn't you make a big deal about being honest in this journal from now on?

Alright, you got me, me. I did "start" to use an alarm clock, without reading the instructions, and once it failed on the first attempt I went back to using my phone for the alarm. And yes, having nightly access to my phone was a factor in some relapses. But I've been clean for a while now, so my phone clearly has the right to roam...right?


Active Member
Even with all of my awareness, I keep objectifying myself. It's an awkward position; being in possession of something that society values so highly, while knowing that it doesn't actually matter very much and can potentially be a burden, but simultaneously desiring confidence and feeling some need to be wanted by society, all while the ridiculous mentalities inflicted upon you by porn are making things even harder.

I sleep naked, mainly because it feels nice and it lets my dick be unrestrained during nocturnal erections. Last night I undressed myself before going to the bathroom to brush my teeth (great idea I know). Instead of leaving when I was done like a normal person, I did the ol' "stare at it until it gets rock-solid" trick. I love watching it grow, isn't it so cool? Eventually I turned my body ninety degrees and held it in my palm for an aesthetically pleasing view, and this inevitably led to some M. Wanting to change the situation, I turned my body back parallel to the mirror, and practiced eye contact with myself. Surely that would get me to stop the M right? I'm not that weird, right?

It was a success, one of the few times during this reboot that I've stopped a masturbation session before O. Luckily I didn't really have issues with urges while I was in bed waiting to fall asleep.

Each time I used the bathroom at work today, my dick got a tad bit hard due to my excitement of "freeing" it, and I felt a compulsive need to look at it in the mirror. This carried over to when I got home, happening again after I got some piano-playing and drumming in before needing to use the bathroom. Compared to the night before, my resistance wasn't as strong.

I turned my back to the mirror and began to M, getting off almost purely to the physical sensations and my stupid size-centric mentality. Predictably, this wasn't enough to carry me to O; the guilt and awareness were too strong. Does this mean that I overcame the size bullshit? I must've thought so, because I moved on to overcoming porn next. I allowed a bunch of different porn thoughts to resurface, and reveled in their defeat, my dick failing to remain fully erect.

And then I thought about Aurora. I didn't win that one.

If I had to lose one of those battles, that was the preferred one to lose. The sexual things that we shared with each other weren't purely out of lust, and they weren't at all the first interactions that we had with each other; they had a basis of affection. Like I've mentioned before, those interactions with her were so much more powerful than porn was. But I shouldn't be looking back on those moments in the way that I did.

I went over to Bless, katana in had, ready to strike, but I didn't get the chance to. Bless looked me dead in the eyes, and telepathically told me,
"Day 0"
I didn't kill them, they killed me. Or rather, they killed my streak of not counting the days of any of my streaks. Looking forward to the count rising.

[Plot armor, really? And this guy calls himself a writer]


Active Member
[Post-Midnight Post]

During a time period in which I was being especially critical of myself, Jinx assigned me to write a list of ten positive characteristics of mine. Only one of them was appearance-based, and it was the beauty of my eyes. I need to focus on the things that I listed along with other substantial stuff, not the size of my dick.
I'm glad that I view my height in a more reasonable light, I could be really delusional otherwise.

Getting back to the gym will increase my confidence in what's above my dick. I've been avoiding going due to not feeling prepared in terms of eating and sleeping enough. Why do I have to sometimes borderline enjoy hunger and sometimes kind-of dislike eating, and why do I like staying up late for the sake of it despite also loving sleep? What stupid self-destructive issues to have.

One of my coworkers brought in an oatmeal cream pie today. I really like them, when I used to be more carefree with my diet I'd buy a box of them and plow through it in like 2-7 days. I haven't bought any in a long time, and I've stayed away from other food of that caliber fairly consistently. Being reminded of a little victory like that was nice.


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I'm taking the day off from work right now since I feel kind of sick. Awkward timing, considering how I really need to avoid MOing, which is contrary to how my dick has been feeling. The last time I went to go use the bathroom, it was almost completely hard by the time that I pulled down my pants. And it got hard as I was typing that very sentence! Fuck

The timing isn't completely unlucky though. I recently bought a game that I'll eventually play with Jinx on her stream, so I tried it out for about an hour earlier today. distracting myself adequately. Hearth had mentioned that she likes the genre and a different game in the series, so that's a nice little bonus. Maybe she likes this game too, and maybe we can play it together sometime :) [EDIT: She's never played it, oh well. But she's a longtime Anxiety War fan, so that's pretty cool]

Like many other Gen Z and millennial men, my coworkers talk about sex often, and that includes the topic of penis size. Their views on the topic still seem to be frustrating close to the common and unhealthy ones, despite my efforts to educate them [I also try to educate them about other sexual stuff, including sexual exploitation of course]. My newest and youngest coworker is one of those zoomers who frequently has sexual topics on his mind, and derives ironic humor from the topic of homosexuality. Trying to be friendly with him while not enabling him has been a challenge, same with many of my other coworkers to a lesser extent [this also applies to non-sexual stuff like politics. It's difficult to have a high-quality discussion with echo-chambered/close-minded people, AKA most people it seems]. He's convinced that I have a big dick, but I brush the question of my size away by stating that it's more fun if it's a mystery. I'm almost certain that he isn't actually into dudes, especially since he has a girlfriend.
The coworker who he replaced asked me multiple times what my size was, and he seemed to believe that it was up there as well [I didn't give him a substantial answer either]. I received a strong impression that the societal bullshit with both height and penis size loomed over him. I did tell him what my height was, and he seemed jealous. He's only 1 inch below average, but us humans can have a knack for cherrypicking for the purpose of lowering our self-esteem.
He's a career-focused person who isn't afraid to leave a job if he finds one that's more promising. I respect that, but I suspect that it might be a method of making up for perceived shortcomings, in terms of desirability. Isn't it crazy how much this shit can affect our lives? At least in his hypothetical case it yields some positives.

I told my newer coworker about my addiction at some point, since it was somehow relevant to whatever conversation we were having. He's asked me questions about it, and has generally been respectful and supportive, but lately he's been doing something annoying involving it. One day he asked me who my favorite actresses were, and I listed some of them off, including my favorite one (and mentioned that she had held that title). I made it clear to him that I can talk about this stuff since I'm tough and can handle it and etc.
Lately he's been acting as if I fell in love with her or something, bringing her up often, especially in his trademark hypotheticals. He claims that he's helping me by doing so, but I was barely ever thinking about her in the months before I mentioned her to him, so doing this isn't really necessary or helpful. Maybe his decision to do so is a blend of irony and humor and misunderstanding, I don't know.
She's a real full-fledged nuanced person. I wish that everyone would accept her as such, and same with all of the other porn performers and prostitutes and strippers and etc. Here's an awesome fantasy: What if I met her somehow, and had a genuine and friendly conversation with her? That would be pretty epic.

The bathroom boner thing happened again after I wrote the paragraph above, but it didn't happen the 3 times that I used the downstairs bathroom after that (I was eating lunch and am hella hydrated). As if this wasn't weird enough 🤣
This does have an explanation though: I've very rarely done the mirror nonsense in that bathroom, it's normally been in the other one.

I've been listening to one of my favorite albums, James Stewart's A Man Like Me, while at work lately. One of the songs stood out to me, so I gave it a dedicated listen for the first time in a while before I started eating. Turns out that the lyrics were even more relatable than I had previously thought, and I teared up a little as I sang along. Here's the song, and my current album 3x3 for anyone interested:
I hope that none of these artists are actually horrible people, and that the songs featured in these albums don't have anything blatantly morally wrong with them. Turns out that an outsider artist that I was fond of was an abusive man, at least according to something believable that I read.

[EDIT: I couldn't find the lyrics online so I typed them out myself]
Screenshot_20221014-151211_Samsung Notes.jpg

A couple of months or so ago, while me and Jinx were talking, she mentioned that I'm in my "sexual prime". This was something that I already knew, and of course the context in which it was stated had no ill intentions, but hearing her say it led to me adding it to my arsenal of regret-focused self-hatred. I know that no one is entitled to sex or a relationship, and that I have a responsibility to make myself desirable, but I keep obsessing over how my situation feels unnatural and cruel.
This ties in to my association with Hearth in an ugly way
  • "You're being way too selfless again. She told you herself that she doesn't care if you talk to other women"
  • "You shouldn't have to wait so long, you've spent enough of your youth already. Get out there and meet someone local who'll text you more than twice a week"
  • "She's not that attractive, you can do better"
  • "Fuck it, forget romance. You need to cut to the chase and find someone who'll let you release this sexual frustration that you've built up over so many years"
I want to be innocent again. I want my efforts in morality to be rewarded. I want to fill the emptiness
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