Can you guys relate to this:
Thursdaynight: Crazy urges at an 21 day streak, suddenly jerking of after peaking a little at some photographs. In a bright moment, i stopped. Did not cum, jerked for hours.
Fridaynight: Urges are killing me, dick is tingling. Decide to jerk of again to get the juices out.... Oh the convincing your own brain does to us is crazy, isn't it. Jerk of to some soft pstories.
Saturday: During the day i don't feel near as fucking bad as after a long binge of filthy discusting p. Could those stories actually be good, like sometimes... Promise myself to lay it of for good, or maybe just do this softcore shit now. You know, i can control this. Saturdaynight comes around: Full on bingemode -> from 8 o'clock PM to 5 o'clock AM Went into every dark corner of p. land, it was discusting, i would be ashamed if anybody found out. Well, i don't have to tell you... You probably went on the same shamefull adventures yourself.
Sunday: Felt like shit but pulled through, dick was dead anyway and felt tired from the night before. Telling myself this is the new me from now on.
Monday: This is the new today. Still managed to get nothing done. In the evening the urges started creeping up again. I gave in. Instead of going for a nice walk i ended up novelty seeking the fuck out of my laptop again.
I hope nobody can relate, but unfortunally you probably can. It's the bullshit pathways my brain took me to throw away a 21 day streak the past couple of days. It's a chain. One relapse means the whole fucking freakshow of shamefull dark acts starts all over again.
Break the chain.
Thursdaynight: Crazy urges at an 21 day streak, suddenly jerking of after peaking a little at some photographs. In a bright moment, i stopped. Did not cum, jerked for hours.
Fridaynight: Urges are killing me, dick is tingling. Decide to jerk of again to get the juices out.... Oh the convincing your own brain does to us is crazy, isn't it. Jerk of to some soft pstories.
Saturday: During the day i don't feel near as fucking bad as after a long binge of filthy discusting p. Could those stories actually be good, like sometimes... Promise myself to lay it of for good, or maybe just do this softcore shit now. You know, i can control this. Saturdaynight comes around: Full on bingemode -> from 8 o'clock PM to 5 o'clock AM Went into every dark corner of p. land, it was discusting, i would be ashamed if anybody found out. Well, i don't have to tell you... You probably went on the same shamefull adventures yourself.
Sunday: Felt like shit but pulled through, dick was dead anyway and felt tired from the night before. Telling myself this is the new me from now on.
Monday: This is the new today. Still managed to get nothing done. In the evening the urges started creeping up again. I gave in. Instead of going for a nice walk i ended up novelty seeking the fuck out of my laptop again.
I hope nobody can relate, but unfortunally you probably can. It's the bullshit pathways my brain took me to throw away a 21 day streak the past couple of days. It's a chain. One relapse means the whole fucking freakshow of shamefull dark acts starts all over again.
Break the chain.
