I'm 49, in great shape (not bragging; I mention it for a reason which I'll explain later), often mistaken for about 30, married for 23 years, have a great wife, three amazing kids, love my work, and "have it all."
I'm also completely blown away.
My story has similarities to many others, but also some things I haven't read elsewhere (not to say they're not out there as well). A great deal has come into focus over the last few days and inspired me to step off the path I've been on, see it for what it is (and isn't), and recover what I've assumed was probably lost forever.
My arriving on this forum is a brief story that began just a few days ago when my wife and I went on a weekend marriage retreat. I've been struggling with PMO for about 20 years (thank you internet), and ED and DE since 2006 and HOCD for as long as I can remember. Over the last 20+ years I've devolved to a way of living on the outside to try and reckon with where I was on the inside. The metaphor of the frog who eventually finds himself in a pot of boiling water comes to mind.
I love my wife but have certainly grown distant over the years. Emotionally, that is. With regard to true intimacy, to be specific. We are not hostile toward one another at all ? just no real passion anymore as life happened and work, raising three kids, and a bad habit of not intentionally tending to ourselves and one another became the new normal. As we approached the weekend retreat we got honest about our hopes for the time together (first time alone in eight years, believe it or not). I manned up and admitted I hoped we would have sex which allowed us to talk about the sexual disconnect we've been suffering for almost 9 years now. We agreed to not put any pressure or expectations on ourselves and went into the weekend looking forward to a good time.
And it was. though we had time to have sex, I was just flat-lined. I wanted to want to but that we the most I could honestly admit. Thankfully we've matured enough to not get angry or emotional over it. But when she asked what I thought the reason for my fear was (I admitted that I wanted to have sex but was scared), all I could offer was, "...I don't know." And I didn't. Well...I didn't know exactly.
After that she went for a walk and I grabbed my smart phone and started searching (for the thousandth time) the issue...fear of sex...no libido, etc. You know the drill. Long story short I read a line on somewhere that arrested my attention: "Porn is like junk food for your brain."
Okay that was a new one. It grabbed me because I'm very fitness-minded, and though I have a metabolism that enables me to eat anything I want, I don't eat anything I want; I try and put the best things in my body to get the most out of weight-lifting (not a competitor). The idea of putting junk food in my brain was wholly offensive to me and I can't believe what I dumbass I've been for not making that now-obvious connection. Shortly thereafter I ended up at YourBrainOnPorn.com and discovered men from all walks of life talking about a porn- and fap-free life. That was intriguing and a bit encouraging as I could relate to seasons of abstaining from porn as producing real inner peace, calm, greater focus, etc. But of course it didn't last. It was reading (still reading) the YBOP book and watching the videos that woke me up.
By the time my wife returned from her walk I was all in. I even opened up to her about the porn use and to her great credit she wasn't phased, horrified, or in tears ("I probably would have been years ago.") I realized in the past hour of reading that I'd devolved to PMO with frequency enough (sometimes many times a day, sometimes once a week, often everything in between) to cause the issues that'd been plaguing me: ED, DE, and HOCD run amok. We had a great conversation and I really apologized for what was obviously in play and robbing us both of intimacy, asked for her forgiveness (she gave it without hesitation...again, amazing woman) and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulder. Even though I knew I was barely on the threshold of my journey. To be clear, I didn't go into he HOCD because 1) I didn't learn about that term until today and 2) yeah are you crazy? That would have freaked her out beyond all recovery.
So. That's how I got to this forum and what I hope to be a community of brothers (especially in my season of life) who get it and can keep me accountable and encourage one another. Following is a bit about how my addiction to porn happened:
I've struggled with HOCD all my life. I've always identified as straight inspite of urges and some same-sex experiences, but the idea of romantic intimacy with another male just never computed. However, I have never been a looker at women. Just never have been. That is unless an olive skin brunette with a certain something I can't articulate to my satisfaction walked by
then you got me. Growing up, I was never trying to sneak Playboy magazine and frankly found Penthouse and Hustler scary as hell ha ha. I was the scrawny runt and all of those women looked completely alien to me. But...when I'd see a strong, alpha male in sexual situations with women I fired on all cylinders. I immediately realized that it was seeing alpha males, dressed and undressed, that did it for me. Huge turn on sexually...but, again, that was it. The idea of marrying a guy and living together as a couple for the rest of my life? *blank stare* Yeah, just doesn't compute. Not judging anyone; just saying that what I dreamed of being one day was a husband and a daddy and growing old with my wife.
I discovered in my later teens and twenties that what aroused me sexually was emotional connection. What sucked about that was that guys at that age either don't admit that or just aren't tuned into that until later in life. Call it maturity if you want, but it was hell. I felt very alone and weird compared to all my friends who bragged about nailing or wanting to nail ever girl they thought hot. Not me. I didn't want to bed women. Just didn't. Porn was already more attractive.
Fast forward to meeting the girl I would marry and falling in love. Life is good, sex is great and frequent and we start raising a family. The HOCD retreats for a long time as I find a deep and true physical and emotional intimacy with my wife (for as much as a guy in his 20's can have).
But then life happens in no particular great mysterious fashion. Life just happens. Work, pressures, getting to know one another's dark sides and living into disenchantment (necessary to really grow but still incredibly hard to move through). I MO'd as little or as much as the next guy probably did but felt nothing was out of balance or proving to be detrimental to the rest of my life in anyway.
Enter the internet. Then high-speed internet. Then my own personal emotional baggage and now I possess the perfect concoction of ingredients to alleviate everything from anxiety, to boredom, to anger, to even feeling great about things. Before too long and like all the rest of you, I was operating with a brain now rewired and addicted to the dopamine effects and the cyclical construct. Frog in the boiling water. I hardly gave it much thought. That is, besides the constant low-level shame and fear and all the other symptoms I'm reading with jaw-dropping shock (because I can relate to just about every single one of them).
The thing that really gets me in all of this is the HCOD. Never heard that term before though it resonates at every level. All my life I've wanted the acceptance of the guys, or a best friend in particular. The camaraderie, the brotherhood, the spiritual intimacy...all of it. I have male siblings and a dad but was never close to any of them. I've known for many years that I've lived with a craving for male bonding and brotherhood, and come to reckon with it.
I've had many great friends too. Real life-journey friends and brothers. It's not like I've never known this brand or depth of relationship. And they've always brought a great dimension to my life. In fact, one in particular was the best friend I'd ever known.
A brief aside pertaining to being physically fit:
In 2005 my best friend at the time had to move to another state due to work. I took it pretty hard. I was 40 at the time. I got pretty depressed. One day I stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror and got sick and tired of hating what I saw. Incredibly skinny and just weak. Compound that with the depression and loneliness I felt and I realized I better channel the emotions into something productive or I was going to be in big trouble. Long story short, I started working out and totally transformed myself physically. It was life-changing inside and out. I had new confidence, attention from both women and men ? friends and complete strangers. It was great. For the first time in my life, I was an alpha male. As you can imagine, I took the confidence into the bedroom and was really enjoying being the stud.
That is until one night during sex when my wife reached down, grabbed my dick and says, "...is something wrong?" Total boner-killer. Freaked me out because nothing was wrong. I was in the game balls-to-bone but for some reason in her female brain something wasn't right. And believe me: at this point in the relationship, nothing was in play. No ED, no DE...nothing. But the accusation and her delivery freaked me out and did a lot of damage. Worse, she wanted to talk about it and wouldn't let it be. I was stunned and weirded out and second-guessing myself (made worse because I truly was fine) and, naturally, didn't want to talk about it. The humiliation was massive. But she wouldn't let it go. I eventually started laughing at her, "...Honey? The only thing worse than what just happened in Guy World, is how you're trying to make me talk about it."
Okay. Sorry for the novel but it factors in. Performance anxiety went through the roof. Every time I got on the ice I failed and things devolved over the next several months. It was worse because she considered it all my problem. That sucked because I felt shamed and rejected and weird and completely alone in it. Naturally, the idea of getting naked became less and less attractive. Just wasn't safe anymore. Sucked.
Meanwhile I've gained all this muscle and where all my buddies had gone to seed at this season in life, I managed to turn back the clock. My solace was the gym and my focus was building my body. It was my therapy.
It was also the construct where attention from other men (women don't appreciate being fit as much as guys tend to ha ha...sort of who women don't dress for men, they dress for other women; guys like being attractive to women but being considered a good looking guy with muscles by other guys is a real badge of honor).
I found my fear of intimacy with my wife getting worse while at the same time enjoying looking and feeling alpha. I didn't necessarily ratchet up the kind of porn I like from straight-to-weird. I just increased the amount of porn I enjoyed when I went there at all: muscular alpha males. That's what I looked for when I watched porn. The women were fine...but it was the dominating, strong men that did it for me. That's what I wanted to be seen as. And that's what I'd sort of become. It wasn't my plan either or my agenda. It wasn't even a new tool to wield. Maybe were I a lot younger and immature, but now? Please. I'd changed a million diapers; the idea of an affair was laughable to me. I love my wife and love women...but they're psychotic
Still though. I realize now that what I wanted most was the acceptance of other men. And when it seemed to come in the form of admiration...well. Dopamine. Which is fine. What's wrong with getting healthy and extremely fit, right? Nothing.
Until I added porn out of running from intimacy and dealing (or not) with my own fears.
Here's what's weirdest to me though: Though I'd MO to gay porn and even had some furtive experiences in the steam room with other guys, strangers all, when it came down to real-world, real-life relationship with other guys? Sex never entered the equation. In fact, the best friend I'd ever had I mentioned above was an amazing specimen of an alpha male. We trained together and became incredibly close. For all accounts and purposes and based on everything else I've laid out here, we should have very easily had some sexual experiences together. But we never did. I never wanted to. Even though our emotional connection could at times be very sexually arousing (I'd fantasize about him at times), when we were actually together ? and we were together working out every day ? those feelings completely evaporated. Real brotherhood and real connection completely eclipsed anything gratuitous or physically sexual.
Until the friendship ended abruptly. The most painful thing I think I've ever experienced. It had to do with a falling out we had trying to start a business together (I think so anyway because to this day I've never found out the whole story), but the most important friendship I'd ever know was completely destroyed.
And (I see now very clearly) that saw me trip headlong into HOCD. And I know it was triggered by the loss of that friendship. I hated it too. Though it could be sexually satisfying in the immediate release, it was never emotionally healing or life-bringing. And to the extent that that was indulged in fantasy or the occasional hookup, all my energy was flowing away from the one relationship that deserved and needed it the most.
Thus the marriage retreat weekend. Thus finally being fed up with myself and my situation. Thus finding myself to the web site. Thus finding this forum. Thus making the commitment to stop it all and journey back to my real self, my marriage, true intimacy and powerful life.
Sorry for the length of this dump, but I had to get it all out while I had the time. I hope I can find some support and encouragement and understanding here.
I'm also completely blown away.
My story has similarities to many others, but also some things I haven't read elsewhere (not to say they're not out there as well). A great deal has come into focus over the last few days and inspired me to step off the path I've been on, see it for what it is (and isn't), and recover what I've assumed was probably lost forever.
My arriving on this forum is a brief story that began just a few days ago when my wife and I went on a weekend marriage retreat. I've been struggling with PMO for about 20 years (thank you internet), and ED and DE since 2006 and HOCD for as long as I can remember. Over the last 20+ years I've devolved to a way of living on the outside to try and reckon with where I was on the inside. The metaphor of the frog who eventually finds himself in a pot of boiling water comes to mind.
I love my wife but have certainly grown distant over the years. Emotionally, that is. With regard to true intimacy, to be specific. We are not hostile toward one another at all ? just no real passion anymore as life happened and work, raising three kids, and a bad habit of not intentionally tending to ourselves and one another became the new normal. As we approached the weekend retreat we got honest about our hopes for the time together (first time alone in eight years, believe it or not). I manned up and admitted I hoped we would have sex which allowed us to talk about the sexual disconnect we've been suffering for almost 9 years now. We agreed to not put any pressure or expectations on ourselves and went into the weekend looking forward to a good time.
And it was. though we had time to have sex, I was just flat-lined. I wanted to want to but that we the most I could honestly admit. Thankfully we've matured enough to not get angry or emotional over it. But when she asked what I thought the reason for my fear was (I admitted that I wanted to have sex but was scared), all I could offer was, "...I don't know." And I didn't. Well...I didn't know exactly.
After that she went for a walk and I grabbed my smart phone and started searching (for the thousandth time) the issue...fear of sex...no libido, etc. You know the drill. Long story short I read a line on somewhere that arrested my attention: "Porn is like junk food for your brain."
Okay that was a new one. It grabbed me because I'm very fitness-minded, and though I have a metabolism that enables me to eat anything I want, I don't eat anything I want; I try and put the best things in my body to get the most out of weight-lifting (not a competitor). The idea of putting junk food in my brain was wholly offensive to me and I can't believe what I dumbass I've been for not making that now-obvious connection. Shortly thereafter I ended up at YourBrainOnPorn.com and discovered men from all walks of life talking about a porn- and fap-free life. That was intriguing and a bit encouraging as I could relate to seasons of abstaining from porn as producing real inner peace, calm, greater focus, etc. But of course it didn't last. It was reading (still reading) the YBOP book and watching the videos that woke me up.
By the time my wife returned from her walk I was all in. I even opened up to her about the porn use and to her great credit she wasn't phased, horrified, or in tears ("I probably would have been years ago.") I realized in the past hour of reading that I'd devolved to PMO with frequency enough (sometimes many times a day, sometimes once a week, often everything in between) to cause the issues that'd been plaguing me: ED, DE, and HOCD run amok. We had a great conversation and I really apologized for what was obviously in play and robbing us both of intimacy, asked for her forgiveness (she gave it without hesitation...again, amazing woman) and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulder. Even though I knew I was barely on the threshold of my journey. To be clear, I didn't go into he HOCD because 1) I didn't learn about that term until today and 2) yeah are you crazy? That would have freaked her out beyond all recovery.
So. That's how I got to this forum and what I hope to be a community of brothers (especially in my season of life) who get it and can keep me accountable and encourage one another. Following is a bit about how my addiction to porn happened:
I've struggled with HOCD all my life. I've always identified as straight inspite of urges and some same-sex experiences, but the idea of romantic intimacy with another male just never computed. However, I have never been a looker at women. Just never have been. That is unless an olive skin brunette with a certain something I can't articulate to my satisfaction walked by
then you got me. Growing up, I was never trying to sneak Playboy magazine and frankly found Penthouse and Hustler scary as hell ha ha. I was the scrawny runt and all of those women looked completely alien to me. But...when I'd see a strong, alpha male in sexual situations with women I fired on all cylinders. I immediately realized that it was seeing alpha males, dressed and undressed, that did it for me. Huge turn on sexually...but, again, that was it. The idea of marrying a guy and living together as a couple for the rest of my life? *blank stare* Yeah, just doesn't compute. Not judging anyone; just saying that what I dreamed of being one day was a husband and a daddy and growing old with my wife.I discovered in my later teens and twenties that what aroused me sexually was emotional connection. What sucked about that was that guys at that age either don't admit that or just aren't tuned into that until later in life. Call it maturity if you want, but it was hell. I felt very alone and weird compared to all my friends who bragged about nailing or wanting to nail ever girl they thought hot. Not me. I didn't want to bed women. Just didn't. Porn was already more attractive.
Fast forward to meeting the girl I would marry and falling in love. Life is good, sex is great and frequent and we start raising a family. The HOCD retreats for a long time as I find a deep and true physical and emotional intimacy with my wife (for as much as a guy in his 20's can have).
But then life happens in no particular great mysterious fashion. Life just happens. Work, pressures, getting to know one another's dark sides and living into disenchantment (necessary to really grow but still incredibly hard to move through). I MO'd as little or as much as the next guy probably did but felt nothing was out of balance or proving to be detrimental to the rest of my life in anyway.
Enter the internet. Then high-speed internet. Then my own personal emotional baggage and now I possess the perfect concoction of ingredients to alleviate everything from anxiety, to boredom, to anger, to even feeling great about things. Before too long and like all the rest of you, I was operating with a brain now rewired and addicted to the dopamine effects and the cyclical construct. Frog in the boiling water. I hardly gave it much thought. That is, besides the constant low-level shame and fear and all the other symptoms I'm reading with jaw-dropping shock (because I can relate to just about every single one of them).
The thing that really gets me in all of this is the HCOD. Never heard that term before though it resonates at every level. All my life I've wanted the acceptance of the guys, or a best friend in particular. The camaraderie, the brotherhood, the spiritual intimacy...all of it. I have male siblings and a dad but was never close to any of them. I've known for many years that I've lived with a craving for male bonding and brotherhood, and come to reckon with it.
I've had many great friends too. Real life-journey friends and brothers. It's not like I've never known this brand or depth of relationship. And they've always brought a great dimension to my life. In fact, one in particular was the best friend I'd ever known.
A brief aside pertaining to being physically fit:
In 2005 my best friend at the time had to move to another state due to work. I took it pretty hard. I was 40 at the time. I got pretty depressed. One day I stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror and got sick and tired of hating what I saw. Incredibly skinny and just weak. Compound that with the depression and loneliness I felt and I realized I better channel the emotions into something productive or I was going to be in big trouble. Long story short, I started working out and totally transformed myself physically. It was life-changing inside and out. I had new confidence, attention from both women and men ? friends and complete strangers. It was great. For the first time in my life, I was an alpha male. As you can imagine, I took the confidence into the bedroom and was really enjoying being the stud.
That is until one night during sex when my wife reached down, grabbed my dick and says, "...is something wrong?" Total boner-killer. Freaked me out because nothing was wrong. I was in the game balls-to-bone but for some reason in her female brain something wasn't right. And believe me: at this point in the relationship, nothing was in play. No ED, no DE...nothing. But the accusation and her delivery freaked me out and did a lot of damage. Worse, she wanted to talk about it and wouldn't let it be. I was stunned and weirded out and second-guessing myself (made worse because I truly was fine) and, naturally, didn't want to talk about it. The humiliation was massive. But she wouldn't let it go. I eventually started laughing at her, "...Honey? The only thing worse than what just happened in Guy World, is how you're trying to make me talk about it."
Okay. Sorry for the novel but it factors in. Performance anxiety went through the roof. Every time I got on the ice I failed and things devolved over the next several months. It was worse because she considered it all my problem. That sucked because I felt shamed and rejected and weird and completely alone in it. Naturally, the idea of getting naked became less and less attractive. Just wasn't safe anymore. Sucked.
Meanwhile I've gained all this muscle and where all my buddies had gone to seed at this season in life, I managed to turn back the clock. My solace was the gym and my focus was building my body. It was my therapy.
It was also the construct where attention from other men (women don't appreciate being fit as much as guys tend to ha ha...sort of who women don't dress for men, they dress for other women; guys like being attractive to women but being considered a good looking guy with muscles by other guys is a real badge of honor).
I found my fear of intimacy with my wife getting worse while at the same time enjoying looking and feeling alpha. I didn't necessarily ratchet up the kind of porn I like from straight-to-weird. I just increased the amount of porn I enjoyed when I went there at all: muscular alpha males. That's what I looked for when I watched porn. The women were fine...but it was the dominating, strong men that did it for me. That's what I wanted to be seen as. And that's what I'd sort of become. It wasn't my plan either or my agenda. It wasn't even a new tool to wield. Maybe were I a lot younger and immature, but now? Please. I'd changed a million diapers; the idea of an affair was laughable to me. I love my wife and love women...but they're psychotic
Still though. I realize now that what I wanted most was the acceptance of other men. And when it seemed to come in the form of admiration...well. Dopamine. Which is fine. What's wrong with getting healthy and extremely fit, right? Nothing.
Until I added porn out of running from intimacy and dealing (or not) with my own fears.
Here's what's weirdest to me though: Though I'd MO to gay porn and even had some furtive experiences in the steam room with other guys, strangers all, when it came down to real-world, real-life relationship with other guys? Sex never entered the equation. In fact, the best friend I'd ever had I mentioned above was an amazing specimen of an alpha male. We trained together and became incredibly close. For all accounts and purposes and based on everything else I've laid out here, we should have very easily had some sexual experiences together. But we never did. I never wanted to. Even though our emotional connection could at times be very sexually arousing (I'd fantasize about him at times), when we were actually together ? and we were together working out every day ? those feelings completely evaporated. Real brotherhood and real connection completely eclipsed anything gratuitous or physically sexual.
Until the friendship ended abruptly. The most painful thing I think I've ever experienced. It had to do with a falling out we had trying to start a business together (I think so anyway because to this day I've never found out the whole story), but the most important friendship I'd ever know was completely destroyed.
And (I see now very clearly) that saw me trip headlong into HOCD. And I know it was triggered by the loss of that friendship. I hated it too. Though it could be sexually satisfying in the immediate release, it was never emotionally healing or life-bringing. And to the extent that that was indulged in fantasy or the occasional hookup, all my energy was flowing away from the one relationship that deserved and needed it the most.
Thus the marriage retreat weekend. Thus finally being fed up with myself and my situation. Thus finding myself to the web site. Thus finding this forum. Thus making the commitment to stop it all and journey back to my real self, my marriage, true intimacy and powerful life.
Sorry for the length of this dump, but I had to get it all out while I had the time. I hope I can find some support and encouragement and understanding here.
