New here

hello everyone,

I guess we all have a story to tell so here is mine.

I've been addicted to what y'all call PMO for 11 years. I was only 14 when I discovered it.

I never had any relationship with a girl until after college. At the mention of a girl my parents would talk to me like a baby non stop and I guess I hated it so much I just avoided it all together.

There were times when I would abstain for a few days at a time but it never went away. I worked as a youth minister, worship leader and did some missionary work all while battling this predicament.

Truth is it's not a battle, it's a routine.

One night, I think I was still in college, I was tired of the addiction so I heald a gun to my head. Obviously I didn't pull the trigger.

In 2004 I was diagnosed with depression. This addiction exacerbates my already existing problem.

I've thought about suicide more than I can count but I can never make myself do it. I think I want to know what would happen if I did it more than anything else.

It wasn't until I was at a wedding that I decided I was tired of being single. Hell, I was almost 23 and never had a girlfriend.

I swallowed my pride and joined an online dating site. A few months later I met a girl. We immediately hit it off.

I am a Christian, at least I could call myself that once, so I firmly believe in no sex until marriage. We had no intention of having sex with each other unless we tied the knot.

I loved her so much. Eventually I confessed my problem to her. She stood by me and helped me. I think I may have gone a month or two without pmo.

It was through her, and a coincidence, that I finally got my dream job and moved out of my parents house. The pmo stopped and I was free.

One day I asked her to marry me. I still think it was one of the happiest days of my life.

I never should have asked. She betrayed me. Everything I fell in love with soon vanished. Including her assisting me through my addiction.

She once told me she would for sure end things if I ever "did it" and didn't confess to her. It happened.

Though I think she wanted to end things but wanted me to be the reason. I was still the reason. We broke up less than two weeks before the wedding.

I drove down a rural highway to get home. My foot to the floor, my speedometer passing 100 and my .38 special pointed at my head. I squeezed the trigger yelling at myself to do it. My .38 is a hammerless revolver meaning it has a long trigger pull. If not for that I would be dead.

It's been a year since those dark days but my pmo has worsened. The pornography I'm viewing has crossed into the "weird" territory and I've even paid for stuff because I've gotten bored with other stuff. I'm doing it every day, sometimes twice, simply because it's routine...it's just what I do.

God bless you if you've read this far. I used to pray multiple times a day and study scripture/theology everyday. Ever since that day a year ago I haven't. It's as if part of me, the best part of me, died.

I need help.