Giving up the delicious devil.

Greetings fellow fapstronauts!

I'm surely on my way to becoming a monk it seems. I have long discerned between two voices in my head: the “little voice” and the “big yeller.” The little voice is the voice of reason, your inner center of truth and higher self that wishes for you to grow infinite, while the big yeller is a loud, obnoxious and overbearing source of yelling in your head devoid of all rationale beyond selfish gratification in the moment. As a man, I have decided to listen exponentially more to this little voice who has led me down an ever-narrowing road of gradual self-improvement over the last couple years, with the most recent installments of my personal evolution being quite drastic lifestyle changes in efforts to thwart my mental tendency toward suicidal contemplations. I successfully converted to veganism as of April 7th [2018] and absolutely love the change it has had on my overall wellbeing… but, somehow, I found myself yet still incomplete, needing deeper/ further rejuvenation and well at war with the suicidal self within—my restless demon who keeps my heart bound under heavy chains of depression encrusted tightly in his ironclad grip. While my mind has suggested that I explore the world of natural psychotropics to see what hallucinogens may be able to assist me with on my journey for personal emancipation & radical self-rediscovery (hello, Ayahuasca), my body comments “yes, that is fine and well, but meanwhile please also acknowledge there is work to be done here, in this temple of flesh, too.” And so here I find myself at NoFap, committing to be what may stand as the most dramatic and greatest change I have ever committed to the beautiful being I know as Myself.


Many red flags have existed for several years now, as my little voice finally helped me put together the dark picture of my sexual addiction to PMO. I now realize this is a covert self-destruction which has been in the works ever since high school graduation, almost precisely 10 years ago. I have inadvertently memorized countless “actors’” names with the additional perverse capability to tell you which studio each of these guys performed for; I would seek out multiple times per day to gratify & relieve myself (often x3-5 per day); I began to look with serial hypersexuality upon almost any gentleman who fit my visual checklist; I entertained intense and explicit sexual fantasies in my head of even my closest straight bros; and I realized my personal library had grown into the largest folder on my entire harddrive with a whopping 22.7GB of material across 416 files. I also noticed a covert complacency immediately following self-gratification riddled throughout my daily schedule, which I have recognized in many of these fellow users’ testimonials as well, to be a culprit for general apathy, malaise, and mysterious lack of motivation.


I have always been a bit different type of dude, especially when it comes to the standards with which I direct my body in relation to other prospects: I don’t hook up, and I have not been with anyone in several years, so pornography has always served the immediate and unquestioned fulfillment of my "needs." To combine my preexisting framework of inadvertent abstinence with this fresh context of rebooting, I’m sure the empathetic picture of my fear is easily painted for others to appreciate. I am a bit concerned about the immense pressure of temptation that will surely begin to knock in a matter of hours, and then surely graduate into thunderous pounding on the door in the next few days as my testosterone reserves begin to bulge. But the devil is a lie, and I have always believed that God places the most rewarding things in life on the other side of a mountain to see if we will climb through the ice at its misty peak: just yesterday, within the first 12hrs of my streak, as I sat in a serene wooded park herein Gainesville [FL] on the phone with my mom sharing my newest research, I watched a bro waltz into the park wearing a loose muscle shirt & tight shorts showcasing his gorgeous physique akin to my category, and he was definitely my type… as he set himself up a hammock between two trees for reading a book, I could not help but imagine what his moans would sound like bent over the tailgate of my truck parked a matter of yards away… It was in that moment that I reached behind the catcalls of “big yeller” and, instead, listened to my little voice: I simply got up and walked to another corner of the park where I continued my phone chat without as much visual disruption.


An excessive and routine use of social apps on my phone has also recently occurred to me as another tentacle of my addiction, so I am evaluating the idea of deleting those apps too (or at least severely reining in my use thereupon) since, while not always intended in a sexual light, they tend to feed directly into the hands of my personal PMO patterns by usually culminating into me beating off to the nudes of some country guy from Georgia sent to me in a private chat. Why allow this temptation to fester for reloading a porn site? I tend to be a downlow introvert who keeps to himself with minimal social connection, so the concern is that sexual rebooting, compounded by cessation of the social apps, will ignite explosively when introduced to my outstanding abstinence. Adopting a constructive mindset, though, I suppose my duty is to learn how to efficiently rechannel this intense energy by, I don’t know, perhaps starting to make couches from scratch, developing the next formula of WD40, or even figuring out how to reverse gravity… lmao. I guess my inward cosmological shift also suggests the legitimate possibility that I may now [finally] organically bump into some dude who may prove to be worth getting to know… Regardless, it goes without saying that I may outwear my homegym in the coming weeks and may legitimately need to join YouFit as part of my modality to redirect this flood of inherent hormonal energy.


Yesterday morning, hours into my newfound decision to sacrifice self-gratification in favor of improved wellbeing, I promptly discarded my fleshjack and lubricants into the communal dumpster and watched through the front window of my apartment with genuine gratitude of a beautiful coincidence as the garbage truck arrived just moments later to refresh it. I met with great difficulty, however, the need to permanently delete my massive personal library afterward. Not having had anyone for several years, I always had porn & “PALMela HANDerson,” never really considering it to be of detriment to my soul until I experienced such unfathomable self-resistance in deciding to press the delete button. For literally more than four hours I struggled with great distress over this decision, my finger hovering over the enter button on my laptop keyboard for what seemed like an eternity. As I scanned over the several hundreds of thumbnails set before my hungry eyes like a fresh buttery buffet of flesh, the big yeller in my head cried out “ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY!? DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK YOU TO DEVELOP THIS LIBRARY!? DON’T YOU REMEMBER HOW MUCH YOU ENJOYED THIS CLIP HERE, AND THAT FLICK THERE!? DON’T YOU REALIZE THIS ACTOR DOESN’T EVEN PERFORM ANYMORE, AND DON’T YOU REMEMBER HOW HOT THAT ONE OVER THERE LOOKED IN THAT CLIP AS HE MOANED AT THE MONEYSHOT!? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!” Meanwhile, the little voice, speaking softly in the foreground of the big yeller’s rant, reassured me “—and that is exactly why you need to let this go. You are addicted, and I am telling you great things, even seemingly unrelated & unattributable blessings, will come to you if you can demonstrate yourself to the Universe in this moment by pressing delete, knowing this is permanent and irreversibly going to catapult you forward in life.” In a moment of sudden bravery, I forced my hand downward, realizing this is the first step in saying hello to the new and improved me while the dialog box devoured the files.


I know the work will be very difficult, as this is an unknown foe that has festered within me for over a decade which I dare to challenge with my streak, but I deserve to define happiness for myself on terms of purity and self-sacrifice and I deserve to see my full potential actualized. After reading some other guys' testimonials hereupon I trust this dramatic change is a worthwhile one to forge, so I have taken a leap of faith to jump off into the unknown here. When you give up a demon and banish him from your body, he will start to claw feverishly at the door in every attempt to regain his stronghold within you. So, this is a time of great inner toil and immense spiritual transformation from within, but, if God is for me, who can make me fap? Amen! (That’s definitely how the verse goes, shut up. )


Thank you for letting me be myself. I feel honored to join the ranks of this online fraternity for sexual rehabilitation, and look forward to the support as well as being a mirror of strength for others making the leap.