Wow.
It's like I went on an odyssey through mountains of mental resistance and found therein the very place where spine meets tailbone- the tiniest place within every soul where we find the gold. The place we are willing to die for, to live for; the place we refuse to compromise.
In the last few months, my body has completely broken down. My body has ached and suffered in ways I never knew possible and I still feel like I'm too young for this. Doctors initially suggested the Flu or Dengue fever but I knew when they said it that they were wrong. I believed then and I believe now that it's all psychosomatic. My brother - the nurse- is worried it's a hormonal thing (last year I had a near-mortal allergy to the birth control patch) and has ordered me to go to an Endocrinologist. I'll go but I'm not expecting them to find anything either. I think my mind is dispelling years of mental anguish through my body. The reality that I wasn't protected, that I was exploited - not just by my perp but by countless men- has settled in. Like all knowledge, it can't be unknown once it's known. I have suddenly and abruptly realized, with sickness, that I've been partaking in the sexual exploitation of countless women around the world and the shit I've been hooked on for years and years and years, the shit I've been pumping through my mental veins, is kool-aid. I've watched quite a few documentaries on porn and by myself I have come to realize that each of us who digests this, is creating the demand for the supply of sexual exploitation, power, possession, and objectification. I have helped to create the supply. I've done my part in creating inequality and I've propelled my own energy toward this man-made lie that women love this, that submissive persons love and want these things done to them.
I want to be part of the solution and I'm done being part of the problem. Go easy on myself? No, no I won't. The time for ease has passed. I've spent my life taking the sexually selfish, easy route and this illness projectile vomiting itself from my body is absolutely necessary. If you disagree, I wholly and passionately suggest to deeply explore sexual exploitation and sexual slavery rings in your own major cities- with the same dedication that we each have invested into pursuing the perfect O. In denying myself the pattern of this addiction, I've rerouted my drive towards clicking and reading and watching video after video after video- except on the part of persons who have been forced to give their body to our selfish demands. Don't let anyone fool you; partaking in these activities because one needs the money is no less force than to come by physical force.
The sickness will pass. My body will heal. Once I'm done accepting, in totalitarianism, the consequences of misguided sexuality and unbridled selfishness, the deep purples of my body and soul will be able to rise. I will do this with goals, with education, with research, with my life.
And it starts by acknowledging that each person in each video that I've consumed is a daughter or son, a friend, perhaps a parent, but is someone worth loving. It continues by setting forth my gratitude in singular moments day by day.
You know, when I first got here, I ran across a post that moved me so much that I printed it out and hung it on the bathroom mirror. I knew I identified with it then like it was some strange, writhing thing in me that I couldn't yet understand. But now I understand it with total vision.
"Viper,
Objectification is failing to recognize the dignity and value of another human being. It isn't as narrow as oggling or gawking at ladies or men, although that can be a symptom of objectification. There are many more articles to be found and yet to be written that can legitimize objectifying human beings. I think there is strong evidence that with a few sly triggers they could adequately convince a lot of men and women that they hold no value except as objects to give or receive pleasure.
The questions isn't if the behavior is objectification. The questions is if you will fall for it and be objectified in the process.
SORP"
Now I see that I've been objectifying myself and that my worth, deep down, is just the same as I'm doing to others. I've reduced countless people to objects and in the process, I've done the same to myself. There is more than this. There is more than bold lust and placing value on us all according to the pleasure we receive and give.
This journey has really become so much more than I could have possibly imagined. This isn't just porn addiction, something which touches only one part of my life or who I am, this (in reality) permeates every part of my being; the cynical way I've approached the world for so long, the belief that every one will hurt me, the continuance of trust so damaged that I can't seem to weed out the corrupt from the pure, an inability to become involved in political injustices which we all see but turn our backs to. This is everywhere and the bang stops here. This will not be passed onto my children. It stops with me.
In accepting the worth of those I've devalued, I am able to acknowledge my own. Every person deserves the respect of having their most intimate actions kept private between themselves and their partner of choice. Every person deserves to bond, socially and personally, through their sexuality- which should be sacred and private. Every person deserves to take part in something because they entirely desire to, in a healthy consent, not based off power or money or insubordinate status.
We are creating the demand for the supply.
How ugly is that?
Ugly enough that every ones of my bones ache, that I feel joints crunching that I've never realized existed, enough to have fevers and nightmares, and the motivation to get healthy.
For the last month or so, I've been ever grateful to experience a hushing between my partner and I. I'm still not sure of our future but in recognizing that he has a personality disorder, I've come to be able to understand him in a deeper way. I'm grateful for his desire to learn and be better as I respect his hunger for justice. I'll never know if that strong, ideal guy exists- maybe that's part of the fantasy too. I have a real person in front of me, a soft man who has dealt with his own lust, his own suffering, and his own misguided perceptions. Yet we are best friends, trying to figure out how his addiction works and how mine works and what the hell can we do to stop these diseases from spreading- because we know they are disease. It may have taken genitalia not working properly to see the disease, but now we realize it's so much deeper than physical disorder.
I've come a far ways in my PhD- I'm crafting together emails, project proposals, and incentives to find the right professor who will let me study what I want to study- objectification. I've found a steady support on campus, people who are helping me to find myself through my academic endeavors. I'm fortunate.
I have friends and family who Skype with me often- no matter that I'm in Australia and they are in the U.S. No matter the time, no matter the issue- they are there. I hope to one day have it together enough to reveal to them all of this journal and the joys and hurts it has brought to me.
I'm ever grateful for not being alone. You are here, I am here and from the get-go, there have been stronger people than I to move me in the right direction. My brothers from other mothers- you know who you are. x
@Chief- I'm happy to tell you who I am and for you to follow my PhD. You've been a diamond in the coal and I trust you to that end. Do we all look for an ideal partner, someone who makes up for our deficiencies in a perfect way, to our own standards? Can that person actually exist? Give me what you've got. I know exactly how you feel- I'm sticking to the smaller picture until I have more perspective. I can't say this is forever, I can only identify where I'm at right now. I'm always around- feel free to leave me a message if you want.
@ntg- Part of my perspective is my age. I'm 30- I want to have a kid before I'm 35 or my risks go through the roof. Not that adoption isn't completely on the table but brother, I ain't got time to hold out for Mr. Perfect to waltz through the door. And I'm in AU, so that's all very messy stuff. I've got three years here then I'm going back to the States- where I want to pop one out (or hopefully pay someone to pop mine out) pretty immediately. You can see that it's not always as simple as waiting it out. You know, my good friend told me to quit babying my SO too. She said that sometimes people need to fall flat on their face. I've certainly been giving him more emotional responsibility lately but that seems easier now, since I've had to face my own demons- I find it easier to discuss things with him (since I'm not running away to P).
@Jeff/Dan- Thanks for the props bro. My positive attitude can be rather pessimistic at times, I'll warn you now. It's completely possible to be a pessimistic optimist, though I refer to myself as an opportunist- pessimistic positivity is nothing more than survival. I haven't seen the documentary you linked but I will def check it out this weekend.
