Two full years of NoFap (the long and detailed version).

Two years of NoFap (hard-mode) - How it all began and how it helped me turn my life around

I apologize for the delays in delivering this long and detailed life-story of what my life looked like during my PMO-days (and what made the tide finally turn) but life has been quite busy overall and I haven't been able to dedicate as much time to writing it as I had wished but since it is stretching over 15 Word-pages in total, I decided to publish it in four separate parts. This is partially so you don't get too bored but also get some time to digest the material in which I hope you can find some inspiration, motivation and role-model in order to change your own paradigm and mindset completely.
To quit PMO altogether (especially the M and O) is not an easy task but the message I am trying to convey is following: if I can put PMO and its many compulsions, cravings and urges away after being attached to it for 15-16 years (or half my life), so can you.
Even better is the fact that I nowadays don't feel any neediness, urge or pressure to get laid or hook-up whatsoever and the latter should never be a goal or purpose in itself when beginning NoFap. Because if you do it without having a holistic view in mind, you will just end up slipping back into old tracks where the compulsions and urges are still there. Today, I can just be sitting still in the silent and quiet present moment and feel happy and content with just that which is what happens as your consciousness expands with time (as well as your vibrational frequency) which is a good goal to strive for as you begin your NoFap journey.

But before this long and detailed story begins, here are the links to my story I wrote about almost a year ago (divided into four parts) when I had reached my first 500+ days of NoFap. If you aren’t interested or just too impatient or unfocused to read them all, I won’t force you to do so but they are recommended if you are new to NoFap or have battled against PMO for a very long time without success, or if you might just need some extra inspiration and motivation.

https://forum.nofap.com/index.php?t...-its-life-changing-effects-part-3-of4.244844/

Sometimes, it is just the right mindset, habits, unexpected experiences, events and people you meet that can be the difference between success and failure in this practice. It certainly was in my case and all of these started to unfold, one at a time, on that slightly hangover New Year’s day in 2017 (after binging on some fancy Champagne) where I finally decided once and for all to stop pitying myself and take charge of my life and actions from now on. It was mostly a nagging and prematurely 30-year-old crisis that moved me in this direction since I felt quite miserable, sad and frustrated about the direction in which my life was heading.
Years of moderate PMO-use and its multiple accumulated side-effects had finally come crashing down brutally during the summer and especially autumn of 2016 where I had this intense and agonizing mental and physical aches and pains pounding me hard every other day for weeks on end. Some nights, I almost cried myself to sleep in feelings of misery, frustration and hopelessness.
As the last 2-3 months of that year felt like pure misery (much more so than it had done during previous years), I had this strong urge and desire to end my 20’s on a better foot the last 15 months that was left of it as it was just too important to let go off and I knew these changes could at least put me off to a good start during my 30’s. But it wasn’t an easy task I had ahead of me since the past decade had many times felt like a struggle where I was treading water on the spot and continuously kept slipping back into the same old destructive patterns.
As I started to writing this story, I was currently one petty month away from having been totally PMO-free for two years and it’s crazy how fast time has passed since. Although over two years have passed as of now (or almost 26 months to be exact), it almost feels like yesterday and I dare say that my life took an entirely new turn and chapter on that beautiful winter day two years ago.
So much so that I can easily divide my life into three distinctive parts based on the presence and absence of PMO alone. I should almost name them and divide them into following categories: The happy childhood years (0-12,13 of age), The frustrating and miserable teenage years and early adulthood (13-29 years of age) and the harmonious, stable, productive and happy adulthood years (30+ years og age).

Because, between the ages of 0-12,13 life felt great, vibrant, energetic, positive and unlimited. Like the whole world was in my hands with plenty of opportunities everywhere. It felt like there was nothing I could not do and nothing that could stop me from fulfilling and reaching the dreams of the future I had. I don’t know if these imaginary thoughts and visions were solely childish naivety combined with all the exuberant and exciting vibes that was in the air (and everywhere) as the new millennium approached or if it was due to the fact that I was still rather untouched by the perils and troubles of the adult world (and the modern toxic world in particular) that I knew so little about. Little did I know that it was soon going to change when I turned into pornography as a means to escape from all the loud arguments my parents were having at the time. Arguments I thought was due to me and my younger siblings, no matter how many times my parents tried to convince me otherwise (as I simply didn’t believe them). As soon as its side-effects, strong feelings and compulsions of pure lust were making an entrance into my life, my mind and soul would be poisoned and touched by it for years to come and the longer this type of escapism went on, the deeper did I dig the hole for myself.
I do quite clearly remember the first time I watched pornography at age 10 but it didn’t strike any cord with me then since I was too young and still experiencing childhood at the time. It was during a summer-hockey camp on a hot August-day in 1998 when one of my team-mates found a wrinkly porn-mag in our shabby locker-room on one of the shelves. It was a hardcore magazine but wasn’t something that excited me at all since I felt nothing but disgust and aversion for those pictures he held up and showed us.
The probability that some dude might have jacked off over it didn't strike my mind of an innocent ten year old at the time.

It wasn’t until new Year’s eve the next year (1999/2000) it really started to strike a cord with me. At the somewhat fancy hotel me and my family stayed at that night as the new millennium was about to begin, I was browsing through the hotel TV’s several TV-channels which was an exciting thing to do at the time. After all, cable-TV in Sweden had only been around for about 11-12 years and I was amongst the first age-groups of kids who grew up with this recent phenomenon since kids only 5-6 years older than me (and up) had to settle with the only two state-TV channels that were available at the time. Two decades ago, all the TV-programs, shows and series shown were also of a much higher quality (compared to today’s rubbish which is one of the main reasons as to why I don’t watch TV at all) which made browsing an exciting past-time once in a while since there was always something good shown at TV. But there was one of those random hotel TV-channels I ran through that opened up another world for me; the exciting world of pornography.
When those porn-acts first appeared on the TV-screen, I didn’t quite believe what I saw. First of all, I was quite convinced that the channels with material of that kind would have been blocked in some way so children couldn’t access them. And secondly, there was something in it that really triggered me, excited me and that made my senses and entire body tingle with pleasure. Although its sheer grossness also disgusted me simultaneously, telling my instincts it wasn’t quite right or good for me to watch. Perhaps because I thought those pleasurable scenes on the screen were equivalent to reality and that the movie was X-rated and something I really shouldn’t watch. The forbidden fruit does always become more tempting than the admissible/allowed one, especially for boys. Keep in mind that this was only a few year before internet-pornography became available so for a boy well below the age of 18, it also became like finding a pocket (or treasure-chest) with some gold-coins inside.
I showed this newly found channel to my second cousin (which was about my age) and during this moment, his younger brother did of course walk into the room at the time, saw the TV-screen and went on snitching this secret to his mother which of course told my mother. So, the new millennium started with (apart from the cold winter weather and never ending fireworks) with an embarasing roasting from my mother in the morning. Despite feeling ashamed of myself (especially because of my younger relative viewing that material), those adult scenes were on my mind for a few weeks to come. Partially with disgust but simultaneously with excitement and that tingling sensation. It wasn’t until a year later (in 2001) that it started to get me more hooked and excited than before. Probably because I was entering puberty at the time where my hormones (and impulse-control) started to spiral out of control. It didn’t become better from having two messy and loud classmates who told me about the “Erotic films” that were shown at the cable channels (TV1000 & Canal+ primarily).

As a result, I started to read through the TV-tables we had at home to see when these exciting movies started so I could plan a weekend night once in a while accordingly. And so it begun; once every other week, I stayed up late on Saturday nights (on the Sundays when my hockey-team and I didn’t play a match) just to get a glimpse of these exciting movies so I could record some of it on an empty VHS-cassette in the VHS-player on my TV when everyone was asleep (many of you younger dudes here probably don’t know what I am talking about). In that way, I had some exciting material to watch for at least a few weeks ahead which felt awesome, exciting and a little anxious since there was a fear of getting caught. The dopamine-rush I got from watching those adult scenes (plus the M:ing that came with it) were unlike anything else I had watched during my short lifetime so of course, the mornings after those recording-sessions, I felt drained, fatigued, indifferent and without a will, joy or excitement to do anything. That was just the very beginning of the slippery slope that was going to keep me enslaved for another 15-16 years and of course, I was living in complete denial about the side-effects of this particular habit was indeed enslaving me and crippling much of my life, capabilities, hopes, dreams, drive and motivation.
Despite it being at the beginning of my 15-16 year struggle with PMO, it hadn’t yet creeped into my life too much since the time I spent on it was quite limited overall. Luckily, I had plenty of other time-consuming activities at the time (as I was playing two sports and an instrument) that shifted my focus away from pornography, so it was just a little “harmless” side-thing once in a while. But that side-thing was soon going to be something that shifted my focus away a few times a week and started to hijack my mind, mindset and brain (and soul) even more.
There were two unfortunate combos during the following year (spring of 2002) that really made it significantly harder to stop watching and keeping away from my mind. It was like opening the lid on Pandora’s box ajar to get a glimpse and then opening it fully so an array of upcoming misfortunes, troubles, struggles and maladies could all pour out at once.
The box had almost been fully opened in that moment I saw the empty VHS-tape/cassette in my dad’s drawers and put it into the VHS-player on my TV. To my surprise (and great excitement) there was probably a total of two hours of recorded porn from the cable channels on it and I just couldn’t keep my eyes (and later my mind) of it as soon as it started to roll. There were especially a few scenes that got etched into my mind and that almost hasn’t faded away to this day. So, whenever I was at home alone and felt those lustful thoughts taking over, I just grabbed the VHS-tape and watched those scenes again and again. For a pubescent and growing 14-year old boy, it was easier said than done to gain the control needed to stop watching. Not to mention grasping the words from some well-meaning adults that “what you see on the screen is not equal to reality”.
During that same year, the second part of the combo arrived with a downloadable software called “Kazaa” and it was all of a sudden possible to download some random porn-videos through it. Even better was the fact that it could be done without having that phone dial-tone blocking the connection when downloading (which was quite a new phenomenon at the time).
I also remember that family trip to the beautiful Austrian capital of Wien (Vienna) where I found that unlocked porn-channel on the Hotel-TV where they were rolling non-stop porn 24/7 for free. For me at the time, it felt that getting to know the history of the cities various buildings, domes and places was half the trip (together with the delicious food). The other half was about watching porn on the hotel-TV and learn about sex (during those brief moments my dad and brother weren’t there). Just like a rat running out from his nest as soon as the cat is gone. At that point, I still firmly believed that what I saw on the screen was reflective of reality but little did I know at the time since there was absolutely no one telling me about the perils of porn and internet porn in particular since it was a recent phenomenon at the time and there was almost no research published on the subject. When looking back at it in retrospective, no wonder I suffered from anxiety, low self-esteem and communication difficulties. My brain and mind were starting to get hijacked by lustful thoughts and fantasies much of the time. Thoughts and fantasies that consumed me and slowly poisoned my mind and soul where a lot of precious energy and focus got redirected to the wrong things. But at the time, there was no thought whatsoever that my regular PMO-habits a few times a week could have anything to do with it.
When looking back at it, there was no area of my body, mind and life that didn’t get affected by this destructive and sneaky poison called PMO. It was not only rewiring and damaging my brain (especially the grey matter) but it was working just as efficiently under the radar on a subconscious level. The messages being ingrained into the subconscious were all of destructive and discouraging nature, telling me I wasn't worthy of even an average girlfriend, love-life, normal healthy relationships and fulfilling and satisfying life overall. It was this negative, destructive, nagging self-image and feelings of unworthiness and worthlessness that destroyed me from within the most as I was constantly beating myself up and never felt satisfied with any of my achievements and performances in life, no matter how great others perceived or viewed them.

To be continued..........

 

If you read the post carefully, I claim that I still haven't found part-3 of the former one on the Forum yet (after 10-15 minutes of searching, I temporarily gave up). But if I do, I will of course re-edit the recent post and include it there.

 

Thanks a lot for helping me!
I looked under the Postings-tab but still, it didn't show up there. I will now re-edit the thread above and squeeze it in.

 

Thank you!
I am glad to see that these long and detailed story-posts are making a difference and actually help men who need it. It gives me extra confidence, belief and momentum for future business ventures and ideas in the field.

 

It will be up in a few days.

 

Hello fellows! Here is the continuation of the first part of my long and detailed story about my former life prior to NoFap. I hope you enjoy the reading and that it can help, inspire you and motivate you to become your best version. Few things in life feels more fulfilling, satisfying and purposeful than that.
For those of you who haven't read the first part, here is a link to it:

https://forum.nofap.com/index.php?t...iled-version-part-1-of-4.272980/#post-2494651

.....It would take me several years (not until my early 30’’s) until I became enlightened enough to realize that many of those aches, pains and displeasures I felt from my never-ending self-criticism were all self-inflicted and a result of my own obliviousness and lack of consciousness at the moment. This high level of unconsciousness were of cause a result from all of my mental and spiritual imbalances were my ego and intellect were the rulers of my inner world, enhanced and maintained by years of PMO, partial sleep-deprivation, stress, toxic processed foods, sugars and lack of presence in the current moment. My thoughts and inner voices were usually spread and dispersed all over the place and could never stop speaking and buzzing in my head, especially not the needy, negative and self-destructive thoughts. This was the way it would continue to be for years to come and to this day, those few big crashes that all came down in my late 20’s (between the age of 27-29) were the best thing that could have happened to me. Just like me, the German spiritual teacher and scholar Eckhart Tolle also had everything crashing down at age 29 and this seems to be a common theme amongst many men who have lived with years (and many times even decades) of self-inflicted pain that at some times spins out of control and crashes in an instant. From there on, the first rays of enlightenment, inner peace, tranquility and freedom from the ego and intellect are only a few years away at most. Anyway, let’s continue and focus more on the story from now on.

Things didn’t improve much either when internet-porn progressed a few years later (around 2005-06) with increasing internet-speeds and streaming-capabilities. A wide array of movies and clips that previously would take a few minutes (at least) or even hours to download were now available for streaming within seconds or at most a few minutes. Although I only PMO:ed marginally more as this became reality, the wider selection and even easier access to it made it a little harder to resist than before. Now, hundreds of thousands of video-clips were available just a few clicks away which was mind-blowing in itself. That swift change in internet-speed didn’t only give me an even wider selection and instant action. It meant no more purchases of P-mags, DVD’s or late nights in front of the pay-channels which in itself was more than good enough.
This swift change from old-style PMO with magazines, VHS-tapes and DVDs to high-speed streamed internet-porn was also my savior in one sense since my indecision made it hard for me to pick out what I was going to watch next. As a result, I would limit myself more and only stick to what I found familiar and not too hardcore.
Me and “Raven King” on the forum talked about this last week and since we are both in our early 30’s, we are incredibly grateful that we grew up in a time when internet-porn was a novelty and the selection limited, so it wouldn’t take a lot of porn to just get excited (since the webpages took ages to upload) and with this significantly slower dopamine release that didn’t shoot up like a rocket when high-speed internet porn arrived a few years later, it would also be much easier to get off it in the future. Although there wasn’t much research and findings available the time about the troubles, issues and wide array of problems that comes with PMO (like it is today), the abundance and novelty of porn today is also at a level that was just unimaginable at our younger years. It must be much harder to distract yourself and control your urges and dopamine-release with today’s humongous novelty, different genres and rocket-fast internet streaming speeds.
The steadier and slower dopamine-release and rewiring of my brain that took place during a few years time during my first few years of PMO is probably taking place in a matter of weeks (or a few months for some in best case) for the young guys who start their PMO-habits watching high-speed internet-porn nowadays. What it does to them in that short period, I can only imagine, not to talk about the fasting fading memory of what life was before PMO. During my first 10-12 years of PMO, there wasn’t even mobile-phones with any internet to talk about which also made the occasions limited to a stationary computer at home. Fortunately, my older age and poor tech-savyness (at least compared to other people my age) saved me from watching internet porn on my smart-phone (I didn’t get my first one until 2014) but on it, my use was only limited to watching some pics during my last two years of PMO.
Thank God I never really used my phone for that much porn-watching because that slippery slope could have been sloping down very fast if I had.

Still, the downsides at the time were present and also significant nevertheless. The biggest downside of it all was not the just slightly increased frequency of PMO:ing (since the access to it had become much more available) but also the crippling feelings of isolation and loneliness it lead to over time, even as I approached my late 20’s. It felt so comforting and miserable at the same time and at age 27-28, I had little hope that it was going to change at all.
As I had been bullied at some occasions during my early teenage years and a few years onward (as I was quite skinny and a little geeky- precocious looking at the time) I was assured and certain that something was terribly wrong with me, because otherwise they would never have picked me as their bully-victim. The worst memory was probably the two week summer-sports camp in England (through the Swiss-based company/agency Village camps) that me and my cousin were sent to already at the young age of 12 where just the home-sickness during the first two days was crippling in itself. It didn't become better when some French, Swiss and Belgian kids (at least two years older) were picking at me during the entire time. This was at year 2000 before most people even had mobile-phones (I wasn't one of them either) and the worst thing was that the phone at the camp didn't work properly so every time I tried to call home, the landline was disconnected so I couldn't reach out about my issues either.
Those were amongst the two worst weeks of my adolescent life as I felt so weak, vulnerable, subjected and lonely that no words can describe it. The events during those two weeks would plague me for years to come and didn't become better during the summer-confirmation camp three years later where I didn't make any friends due to two guys laughing at and picking at me. My self-esteem and confidence was literally at rock-bottom and PMO became a relief and escape from another grim reality that I didn't know how to confront.
On top of that, I many times became the primary target for people’s pettiness, prejudice, shortcomings and projections since I was the oldest child in a family of six (me, parents plus three siblings and later on a dog) that lived in one of the largest, most prominent and visible mansions in the town.

The town itself was notorious nationwide for being one of the poshest, most prosperous and well-kept in the nation of Sweden, as well as the municipality it was located in. Since most people there had more money than enough to go around, had made it from scratch (primarily after our banking and property-crash in the early 1990’s) and living affluent lifestyles that the ordinary Swede could only dream about, you would think that it somehow would make them more laid-back and down-to earth. But if you are born and raised a Swede, you know that “the law of Jante” is hiding in almost every corner, making people who already have a lot (materially speaking) still being jealous, envious and prejudiced towards those who have those things they don’t, such as a bigger mansion, boat or fancier car.
Consequently, some of the envy jealousy, and inferiority complexes that some of my neighbors, classmates (and their parents) and even relatives had towards me and my family got not projected only towards my parents by oftentimes against myself. Thus, I felt guilty for just existing and having been born into my family and being who I was. This only increased my feelings of alienation, anger, frustration, and inadequacy that was not only getting ingrained into my conscious mind but on a subconscious level as well. And it usually didn’t end there but sometimes continued in school as the cheap talk spread fast in that posh suburban town of 9000-10 000 people.
The sad part was that my dad was such a cuckold who never dared standing up for himself and taking an argument/conflict with the people who projected such pettiness/micro-aggressions towards him, my mother or myself. Whenever an argument, disagreement or conflict was behind the corner, he essentially ran away like a coward not to be seen but thankfully my mother (who wasn’t afraid of confrontations) could usually confront these people and tell them a lesson. Needless to say, those people rarely dared displaying such pettiness again or at least not for a long time. Without her half-Finnish “Sisu”, I would have become a coward and cuckold myself and It was mostly thanks to her I became such an outspoken person later on in life who stood my ground and didn’t become afraid to utter honestly what was on my mind when other people backed down.
Not only was it due to her partially Finnish mentality, but also her upbringing where she had to fight, struggle and work for everything she had acquired but also because she had a mother who had lived through the horrors of the Continuation war between 1941-44 (“Jatkosota” in Finnish) where she lost two of her brothers and many times risked her own life for the sake of the Finnish nation. Although my grandmother’s memory and speaking-ability started to fade many years ago, all of those repetitive horror-stories about the miseries, maladies and scarcities following that war has also brought some good things actually.
Being aware of the pinched and materially scarce environment she grew up in at the Arctic circle (with snow-covered ground 6-7 months/year as well) has made me more humble and grateful for the huge abundance I am living in and enjoying today. Although Swedes and Finns are genetically similar (it is impossible to distinguish the average Finn from the average Swede), there are clear and visible differences in language, culture and mentality where Finns in general are reserved but also very direct and outspoken compared to Swedes who are more social but also more politically correct and afraid to say what’s really on their mind (like in most Western nations these days). That’s just one of many reasons as to why I really like Finland, Finns and many aspects of Finnish culture. They have the ability to communicate several sentences with very few words, gestures and bodily expressions. Just the polar opposite of Southern Europeans who talk vividly with their entire body most of the time.

However, thanks to that and my mother’s more modest middle-class upbringing, I learned to appreciate the smaller and simpler things in life which are usually not the more expensive ones. The same thing could not be said about many of my former classmates and relatives who had both parents coming from posh backgrounds where both of them only had memories and upbringing of abundance, plenty and cushy lifestyle with few real concerns or worries overall (such as starvation, being broke, or living in dangerous neighborhoods).
Especially in these days when the Coronavirus pandemic turns things and daily life upside down for most and many urbanized people in the cities panic about petty things such as not having their daily croissant and soy-latte available at 7-Eleven (or their favorite Café) every single morning, I am remaining quite calm since I know nothing can be taken for granted in this day and age, no matter what people say. Keep in mind that I am Swedish and live in Sweden where no lockdown has yet been imposed as of now (30th March). But, I think it’s only a matter of weeks before they close they capital city (with suburbs) off and enforce a lockdown and grounding. If worst comes to worst and a lockdown and grounding is put into effect by our government (which means no running or bicycling outside), I got to find exercise alternatives to these activities such as body-cores ones that can easily be done in your own home in a space small as a prison cell or similar. Only your own imagination sets the limit actually.

However, despite having a great and privileged childhood and upbringing in many ways (at least in a socioeconomic sense) there were still issues within plenty of families in these posh neighborhoods. Issues that might not be that present or obvious for most outsiders and can only be understood for those who have been living in these environments for some time or know someone who does. I don’t write this in order to feel sorry for or pitying myself but I just wanted to raise some awareness that people in all walks of life have their internal and external struggles, issues, problems and difficulties, even those who grow up in posh neighborhoods. People who are too obsessed with money and material possessions, some of them lacking basic humility, divorces, arguments, jealousy, infidelity, imbalances, fake people and friends trying to kiss your butt, and who never confirm their children or spend much quality time with them (due to working too much) to mention a few. Life nowhere in this world is easy and free from troubles and obstacles, not even in economically privileged households. Many of the issues and problems exist and are present there too, although some of them just are of a different character of course.
Depending on food-stamps and government checks for your daily survival and food on the table in a tiny suburb-flat is of course not on the same magnitude as experiencing divorcing parents and their arguments, having snotty, arrogant classmates and friends with dazed, problem-drinking parents but the point I am trying to make is that modern societies these days (especially in Western Europe and North America) are so broken overall, not only materially and socially speaking with corrupt governments and politicians who deliver nothing but raised taxes and economic crises during their rule, plus unpaved roads and crumbling infrastructure that should be maintained much better.
I am more referring to the moral and spiritual decay that very few children, elderly and sick can escape today, no matter what walk of life they currently are in, because it is them who get hurt the most as centuries of teachings, stories, morals, wisdoms and visions of our ancestors have been neglected and put on the dump by most. Instead, it has been replaced by individualism, instant-gratification-ism, me me me and my needs-ism, big-corporatism, big-pharma-ism, materialism, shopping-frenzy, absent-mindedness, and a wide array of addictions and compulsions available for all of those who try to temporarily escape from the hamster-wheel they can no longer cope with in a constructive manner.

 

Hello fellas!
I know it is a while ago since I published the second part of this detailed long story about my life prior to NoFap and all the frustration, desperation, loneliness and sadness that my former PMO-lifestyle led to in the long run. It has taken some time to write it all down since I had to dig deep and profoundly into my former (and younger) self and analyze as to why I pursued such a self-destructive lifestyle that almost ruined my life towards my late 20's. Much of it probably had to do with me being young, inexperienced, unknowing about all the side-effects of PMO and not having many people talking to (about my concerns and life-issues at the time), not even my parents since they were arguing a lot during that time-period and I simply didn't want to bother them about my problems when they had theirs, plus my younger siblings to take care of. I have also tried to put as many of my thoughts into words as possible so more of you can hopefully recognize yourself in it and many of the issues you might currently be struggling through yourselves.
The PMO-world I grew up in was also of the slower-pace kind since internet was really in its infancy and the browsing only limited to pictures since the streaming-speeds were incredibly slow back in the day.
But, I am also very grateful that I didn't grow up with the high-speed internet porn options that many young men do today as that will take a much longer time to reboot from than the slow-porn I grew up with. Although my habits never progressed to the extreme over the years, it was still enough to break havoc on and ruin many parts of my life.
However, below is the link to the first two parts with the continuation of the story below. It is quite long reading so kudos to you if you manage to read through the entire thing.

https://forum.nofap.com/index.php?t...iled-version-part-1-of-4.272980/#post-2494651

….No one is free from any of these ailments, or influences from this sickly, modern, fast-paced world and me and my family (and the families of my classmates) was no exception to the rule, despite some economic and material advantages. Hence, my addictions of choice then became pornography, computer-games, exercise, and food. Despite being slim and in good shape during the entire time (since I was practicing several sports, one of them at semi-professional level later on), the regular exercising, especially running, was something I needed to do so I could get my endorphins going, so it soon became a compulsion and addiction in itself. Taking just one day or two off almost made me shake and cry from the withdrawal symptoms I felt when being inactive and resting.
I remember when me and my family came back from an Easter trip (I think it was in 2006 at age 18) at which I had been taking a whooping 2-3 days off due to the long travels. I was literally shaking and sweating that entire day in school because of the withdrawal symptoms I felt from being inactive only for a few days.
Many years later, when I finally started to step down from the elite-ventures, I realized that it was my own ego and identification with being a runner/athlete that had made me miserable in the long run. For all those years, I looked at myself as that runner and athlete only and hence made up an identity around it. If I wasn’t a runner or even that very fast runner, I was essentially nobody besides it and hence nobody at all which caused me a lot of unnecessary existential and emotional pain over the years, all of it self-inflicted of course. Especially rough were the times where sickness/illness and recurring aches and pains prevented me from running and workout as usual because then, I had no other identity to cling onto. Hence, those resting/recovery periods were mentally the toughest ones because those were the times when I tried to imagine and fathom what a life after running on that level would be like. It was hard to do then but later on (around age 30-31), I became more comfortable with the thought and nowadays, I am almost completely detached from all of those identities, expectations and out-of reach goals.
The only senses of identity that I do still have are of course the natural ones that can’t be changed or altered, no matter how hard I try. Such as my heritage, race, ethnicity, culture and nationality. Many people try to pinpoint those as something inherently bad and the cause for many conflicts worldwide and although I would give the critics partially right on that point, I do also consider them as important for building strong societies and communities worldwide where the tribe-members feel a sense of belonging and that they are part of something bigger than themselves. Those who abuse and misuse their ethnic and cultural belonging in order to hurt members of other ethnic groups are still not the majority of them and are probably in big physical, mental and spiritual imbalance overall. I find the biodiversity of people and animals worldwide to be something truly amazing and something that is worthy of preservation, whether it be peoples and/or tribes from the Europe, Asia, Africa or any of the Americas.
However, other than that, I am just striving towards becoming the healthiest, sanest and most enlightened man I can become and becoming PMO-free was a huge part in propelling the journey in the right direction. Although that is a project that will never cease or end during my lifetime, I still feel a huge sense of satisfaction and gratitude in that endeavor and unlike before, when I was being that arrogant, smart-ass, wise-guy most of the time, I nowadays feel humble and encouraged if I am proved wrong about something. Not only because it teaches me that I’m not infallible (and can be wrong sometimes) but also because it expands my knowledge and perspectives as well.

Apart from PMO:ing a few times a week which was a pleasurable activity (at least for most of those 15 years), I also loved eating, especially in large quantities and certain foods like fast carbohydrates (pasta, rice, French-fries, pizza, potatoes, cakes and pastries etc). I was notorious for my huge appetite and gluttonous habits but little did I know at the time that it was actually a compulsion, craving and substitute for handling my emotions in a more constructive way. It was only thanks to my fast metabolism and heavy exercise routine that made me stay on track from gaining weight. Nowadays, I wonder if I had the precursors for metabolic syndrome during those years due to my floppy blood-sugar levels.
Still, I had some issues with acne and oily skin where no part of me could have guessed it was diet-and lifestyle-related. It wasn’t until my early 30’s I finally got control of this compulsion as I bumped into intermittent fasting by accident after feeling like crap during most of the summer (of 2019) where I was eating too much and too often (which made me gain some weight for the first time ever). Nowadays, I only eat 1-2 meals a day and going for 20-24 hours without food is no problem anymore since my current diet is keeping the blood-sugar at low steady levels throughout the day.
However, in order to compensate for the last remaining feelings of isolation, lack of social connections, a girlfriend and intimacy I felt much of the time, I turned to PMO which became just as good of a friend as the exercise and the food I was gorging. It was so comfortable and effortless plus the excitement of knowing what was going to happen next as soon as I got home and alone in front of the computer. Just the thought of the upcoming sex-scenes, the female body-parts, the beautiful actresses, the novelty and swift interchangeability of new great looking women all the time made me feel enchanted to say the least.
But I am not sure whether this habit would have become so established and compulsive hadn’t it been for a few traumatic events during my adolescent/teenage years that really shook me up and made me just wanting to withdraw from the world. A world that I enjoyed being a part of and at which I had looked at so joyfully and positively just prior to these events. A world that was full of good and great people with lots of potential and opportunity within if I just scanned through it well. It might sound new-age spacy and naïve for an adult, but for a child that had been quite untroubled by few of the brutal realities in the world until then, those thoughts were overwhelming most of the time.
But, during and after these events though, the world had almost in an eyeblink become a grim, dark and hellish place with which I didn’t want to get involved more than necessary so my cynical and misanthropic mindset took over and headed me into withdrawal and isolation instead.
Little did I know that these two, three prolonged moments/events would scar, plague and hurt me for years to come (where PMO was my temporary friend, relief and escape of sort) and bring me much unneeded and pointless pain, grieving, frustration, grudges, pondering, self-destructive thoughts and dwelling. The constant dwelling on my past and the subconscious notion that something must be wrong with or weird about me is what would keep me on the floor for almost a decade and a half. Just to let you know what I am talking about, following events were the ones that scarred and haunted me for years:

First, when I was twelve years old (in 2000), me and my cousin were sent by our parents on a summer sports-camp in England (in West-Sussex I think) where I was playing tennis and he was playing football for about two weeks at a boarding school that was temporarily remade into a summer-sports camp for kids like us. The acute home-sickness I felt right upon arrival was crushing, especially when mine and my cousin’s room was located in the opposite end of the restrooms. The scary (and somewhat older) Russian kids at our floor didn’t make it much better but nowadays, I really understand why they appeared so scary, rough and stone-faced. This was not even a decade after the fall of communism and the amount of misery, material scarcity and decline they probably had experienced in its aftermath was something I couldn’t fathom or comprehend as I had grown up in a world of safety, plenty and abundance in comparison.
Anyway, those Russians didn’t cause me any trouble at the time (despite the cultural differences and their strong group-mentality and resistance to hardships) but they did frighten me at times for sure. The experience regarding the tennis-playing was actually okay since one of the instructors was Swedish (and thus someone who spoke my native language when my English wasn’t that fluent at the time) and the weather wasn’t too cold, wet and terrible for being England. That summer in Sweden has been terribly wet and cold overall so I had very low expectations regarding the weather.
The terrible part of the experience though, started only after two, three days as some of the French and Belgian kids there (a few years older of course) started to pick on me every time I walked by, followed by some laughing and cursing words in French. At that point, I really started to think something was utterly wrong about me and hence saw it as the reason as to why they picked me as their victim. At the time, I hadn’t grown very tall yet (although I would in the following years), looked a little geeky with my glasses and had a weak posture and body-language overall that signaled insecurity and submission which is why I think they picked on me and a few other people.

I will never forget the day we went on that daily London-trip by bus when I was about to grab one of the seats in the far back (next to my cousin) when suddenly one of those older (and taller) Belgian kids grabbed the collar on my backpack from behind and pulled me (almost lifted me) away from the spot and I had nothing to set against him, neither physically or verbally. At that moment, I felt like the abject, exposed, vulnerable and helpless that I had probably been during my entire life and the remainder of that trip was destroyed before it had even begun. Close to Trafalgar square, I did at least manage to find a phone-booth (this was before mobile-phones were a common tool) and make the only phone-call home during that trip but of course, my parents were at a party that night and the babysitter for my siblings was the one who answered. So typical when I needed my parents’ calm and comforting words more than ever. Because, back at the camp (which was on the countryside), there was no visible phone-booth nearby and the camp’s telephones didn’t work that well because the landline broke every single time I tried calling for some reason. It would take me a few weeks after the arrival in Sweden before I dared telling about the horrifying experience for my mother and of course, she was stunned.
The experience itself was not only the beginning of my declining confidence and self-esteem that would haunt me for over a decade and a half but also the beginning of fapping itself (as a numbing and escapist refuge) and although it would take another six months before I started with it regularly, there was still a sense of shame, guilt and disgust haunting me after each time. It did for sure give me some temporary relief and pleasure many times but I still couldn’t escape that inner-voice or sensation telling me something about it wasn’t right but rather destructive and something I really shouldn’t do for my own sake.
For the years to come, I would be constantly pulled between that inner sensation and the voices from media, peers and other adults telling me it was just healthy, natural and evolving for me. Today, I know better and from experience that those inner sensations are rarely wrong and should be followed 95% of the times.
That’s one reason as to why I didn’t pursue it again for a few months until the beginning of the following year. Not only did I resume that destructive activity again but I also started to watch porn on the cable channels after midnight during some weekends so I could record it on the VHS-tape and have something to watch for a few weeks.
Although the events triggered feelings of worthlessness, geekiness, and alienation for years to come, they also made me push harder and brought a burning desire to become better than my former bullies. At least they taught me how to not be a pleasant and sympathetic person and I don’t feel any resentment towards them today as I know they have probably already had their fair share of karma along the way since.

The second traumatic and gripping event occurred only three short years later (at age 15) during a monthly long summer-confirmation camp where two other confirmands were bullying me for the at least three of those weeks. Essentially, when no one else was around, they just stood a few meters away, looked at me for about 5-10 seconds (which felt like an eternity), laughed at me and walked away. Although it wasn’t more than that, it left some deep wounds inside which did hurt my already torn confidence and self-esteem even more. They really made me feel like the most undesirable, dorky and most useless person on the planet. Needless to say, I didn’t form any friendships during that camp (since I was quite timid and introvert already) but rather withdrew from the world and resulted to fapping instead. Today however, I don’t lament the loss of those potential friendships as they would only have been superficial anyway, as barely anyone during that camp dared being their genuine self with the fear of being alienated. Anyone but me probably and obviously, I paid a high price for that integrity, a price-tag and decision that I don’t regret to this very day.
That summer was also when I purchased my first porn-mag from a convenience store and since there was a lot of shame, guilt and embarrassment attached to that pursuit itself (and rightfully so), I put on my sunglasses and cap and waited until there was not a soul in the store. It was an expensive pursuit as well since it cost me almost 100 SEK (about 10€) of my pocket-money but at least I had something to fap to during the family vacations when there was no one left in the room.
I remember the year prior in the Austrian capital of Wien (Vienna) when those free adult-movies were rolling on one the hotel TV-channels and how enchanted and excited I felt while watching those vastly exaggerated, faked and ployed movies on. I was seriously thinking that if sex in real life was even nearly as pleasurable as it looked like in those movies, I would be in heaven and above when that real day arrived. But as we all know, the moving pictures in porn who look so pleasurable and loving is not a good portrait of reality in any sense. It is all a pretty façade that ruptures fairly quickly when you knock on its surface.
The same old PMO that only kept on lowering my confidence, self-esteem and only brought loneliness, feelings of guilt, alienation and misery into my life.

The third and more prolonged event that wrecked my confidence and self-esteem, while propelling the PMO-habit was my dreadful Gymnasium (or high-school) years between grade 10-12. The entire day-to day life and reality at school was nothing but a theatre play of sort where very few people were their genuine self and those few who dared maintaining their integrity paid a big price, usually in the form of alienation, ostracism and in worst case, outright bullying. Although I experienced the first two which was quite a strenuous and painful experience in itself, I did at least barely manage to dodge the last one thanks to my clothing (I dressed quite fancy and formal), status as a good athlete/sports-man and residential address on the class-list.
Despite that, I much rather spent time with the geeks than the popular kids, simply because the former had some integrity compared to the latter, plus they had other interests and values in life than partying, drinking and chasing phony status and approval. I was sort of a geek myself for being such a sports-freak and thus didn’t even try or make an effort to fit in amongst the popular kids. I saw and felt quite early on (almost on the very first day of the fall-semester in grade 10) what their world view, little bubble and fake world was like and instinctively felt it wasn’t something I wanted to be a part of. I did early spot the horrendous effects of binge-drinking amongst youth our age and the broken, insecure people behind that confident façade. That’s when I decided that I didn’t want to be a part of that and destroy my health, confidence and athletic-performance in the process so I rather paid the price of being one of those weird teetotaler-dudes during my High-School years. Instead, I resorted to PMO as a stress-relief after another rough and exhausting day at school was finally over. Days during which I didn’t only have to deal with haughty, phony and unsympathetic class-mates but also had to deal with practice after school, lots of school-work (especially in Mathematics, physics, chemistry and French) and the hour-long commute into the city with the mass-transit system on crowded trains in the morning. When I had finally been eating dinner and done some more school-work, I finally got a few minutes of PMO:ing and reading some book before going to sleep. Apart from the few friends I had at school (and from earlier school-years) and the time I got with them, PMO was one of the few highlights in my life at that point which tells you a little about how sad and broken I felt much of the time.
With my parents arguing a lot and about to separate at the time, I sometimes felt like the loneliest and most exposed person in the world. Having lots of pimples all over my face and dental-braces didn’t make this time-period worse but rather a bigger hellhole than it actually needed to be. I sometimes felt like the women I watched in porn were the closest I was ever going to ever get to a real girlfriend, let alone a physically attractive girlfriend. Little did I know that my current PMO habits were only drawing me further away from those prospects.
To this day, I don’t understand how I could cope with this lifestyle for three long years and still have such high energy during most of the time. If I hadn’t been PMO:ing during that time-period, I would probably have been a superman or something, hehe.

Luckily, I rarely got bullied for having a rich dad (since there were plenty of kids with those in my hometown and hence not an unusual sight), just getting asked the question sometimes from random kids my age that if the rumors were true almost killed me. The rumors being my dad belonging to the 100 richest/wealthiest men in Sweden (which he wasn’t by the way) and that I lived in one of the “Castles” which was slang for the dozen or so biggest mansions in town. Just being asked those questions and what my dad did for a living were essentially killing me emotionally and spiritually. Not only because the behavior and manners to just ask such question straight out annoyed the hell out of me. But also because money and personal finances isn’t something that Nordic people (especially not Swedes) ask and talk about in a manner that direct as it is considered very impolite and distasteful to do so. But also because I knew many of them just wanted to kiss my butt (figuratively speaking) and be friends with me because of my rich dad. In that way, I was on my guard every time I heard that question coming up and soon, I learned to sift out and distinguish what people were fake and who were genuine.
Although that sixth sense saved me later on from acquiring fake friends, getting involved with the wrong kind of people and absorbing twisted values and priorities about what actually mattered in life (such as true/genuine friendship, love, family, hobbies/interests, nature and spirituality instead of materialism, possessions, money) it landed me in a great deal of loneliness during that time.
A sense of loneliness I used to self-medicate with PMO as that did make me feel better temporarily. Those years between the ages of 12-20 were overall quite a lonely time as there were very few genuine people my age and older in my hometown. People who like me, were a bit odd and had different priorities and outlooks on life than most but who were also genuine, had good intentions, actually loved their livelihoods and who had a positive impact on the community overall. They were not in a majority but still present and I will never forget the positive energy they emitted and that partially made me stay afloat in a quite lonely day-to-day life and also made see things from an entirely different perspective.

What also fascinated me about them was that they seemed quite spiritual and not so materially oriented as most other people in town. They didn’t seem to have the fanciest cars, biggest boats, or latest fashion (although they could easily afford to) but seemed not to crave these possessions either as they were more than happy with what they already had. Their presence made me subconsciously think that you can live a thriving and meaningful life without lots and lots of material possessions and fake friends at your side. These people didn’t seem to have a need for others’ approval as well since they felt no need to prove anything for anyone. But, it was also these people who were in the line of fire for all the pettiness, superficiality, projections and baloney rumors that the insecure, spiritually empty and self-obsessed toxic sheep in the neighborhood spread around like wildfire. Fortunately, they were usually not too hurt by that pettiness since they were already quite tempered and used to it than most (otherwise they wouldn’t have gone their own way like they later did).

Hence, the presence of these characters made me feel less odd, strange, lonely and alienated in the crowd which was otherwise the standard-feeling/sentiment of mine at the time. Especially at school where I had very few close friends and those I had didn’t belong to the cool and popular group either but looking back, it’s nothing I regret or would have made different since most of those cool, popular kids later on developed very destructive and degrading habits (such as drinking and drug-abuse) and fake friendships that were based on conformism and fitting in, not on integrity and acceptance of one’s differences. Many of those so called “friends” of theirs who would later abandon them as soon as the going was getting tough which I already could sense at the young age of 13-14. To this day, I am very happy to have trusted my gut-feeling and instinct at the age where you struggle to find an identity and a community to fit into. A community that was something bigger, better and more real than the invisible and silent community of porn-users masturbating in front of the screen.
Despite being lonely much of the time, I did at least get a few friends during that time with whom I developed genuine friendships that are still standing to some extent since I keep in touch with two of them.
But, I managed to earn a fair amount of respect due to my skills in sports (both ball-sense and athletic strength) where I kicked almost everyone’s ass due to my endurance and physique that kept me going when everyone else was standing still, huffing and puffing while trying to keep up with me. But, I was also very stubborn, bullheaded and short-tempered at times which partially kept me going when things looked grim but also gave people a reason to provoke and play mind-games with me since I lost it quite easily.
As a result, I was constantly over-reacting to peoples’ petty behavior and mind-games that they were constantly playing on me to get me out of balance.
Especially in the sports I was playing at the time (primarily Ice-hockey, tennis and later on track/distance running) where team-mates and opponents alike played mind-games with me in order to provoke, piss me off and bring me out of balance. Unfortunately, having a short fuse at the time as I had, I mostly gave in to their petty tricks and became that type of John McEnroe copy they loved to poke on. It would take several years before I finally gained back control over my thoughts, feelings, temper and destiny which has helped me a lot since people’s petty behaviors don’t affect me much nowadays. I can only lament their lack of consciousness, awareness and purpose in life. Nowadays, I know that only people who are frustrated, out of balance, don’t know their purpose or where they are going in life behave in such a petty way and I can only lament their pettiness.

......To be continued soon

 

Thank you mate and hats off for having endured reading it all the way!
One of the best things I have done over the past year is to take the time to write and put these stories out and that's for two major reasons:

-First of all, to inspire, motivate and brace all men out there (younger and older alike) who struggle and make them believe there is a great life to be lived outside of PMO, sex, hooking up and all of those external short-lived things/pleasures that media portray as desirable and glorious but that won't change or do anything to your overall quality of life. On the other hand, it will most likely lower it by a lot.
Real, true and long-lasting happiness can only grow and prosper from within and will eventually be obtained and earned through hard word with yourself.
Hard work during which you ransack yourself thoroughly, question your former actions, mindsets, beliefs and stop dwelling on your past.
Only then can you finally start moving forward in life for real and to let go of your past experiences (or inexperiences) is one of the biggest burdens you can let off your shoulders. Because, as soon as it's gone, you will feel so much lighter and unstrained.
-Second, I felt a need/urge to write it up so I could finally process and exploit some of those key events that traumatized me for so long and didn't release its grip until I became PMO-free two years ago. It wasn't until this past year though, I felt mature and ready enough to go through these events once again but it wasn't nearly as painful or heavy now since I have left the past behind me for good.
It becomes so much easier to write it up when you feel it doesn't affect you anymore so it wasn't as big of a challenge as I had first had anticipated.