I returned from my mission about 8 months ago. My whole life, I thought that by this point in my life, my need to be on sites like this would be over. But well, in the words of Mark Twain: "[Quittting] is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I've done it hundreds of times." And so here we are. Let's take a little jaunt down memory lane, shall we? I started PMO when I was around 13. Google images searches quickly transitioned to Bing, to lingerie websites, to erotica and still shots, to soft porn, to hard porn. All manner of it. At 15, I had a talk with my Bishop (congregational leader for all you non Mormons), and I managed to quit for about a year. By 16 I was back on. This continued, off and on (though, admittedly, mostly on) until about 6 months before my mission (age 19). I was heading out to preach the gospel, I needed to shake this. So, for the most part, I did. I cut down usage to once every couple weeks or less, and convinced myself that was good enough. It was not. See the thing about Mormon mission service is that, until quite recently, our access to technology was... limited. No smartphones. No tablets. No computers except to email family once a week. No websites that aren't Church websites. No dating. And a companion that is literally never out of sight except when absolutely necessary. For two years. This is an excellent strategy for someone struggling with an addiction, or so I thought. Lock them in a rubber room with someone to make sure they don't go get their "drug of choice" until the problem is solved. Fast forward 18 months. Smartphones are introduced to the mission. So far, I've had maybe 2 or 3 slip ups and those not full blown porn, like mildly suggestive celebrity photos. But oh how much easier it is with a computer in your pocket. Sure, the phones were locked down like Fort Knox, super restricted website access, periodic device checks as well as active monitoring that could be enabled at any time. But you fools. I have 7 years of experience in bypassing filters to get my fix. The idiots give us access to Facebook. And it was all over from there. Suddenly I was waist deep in the swamp that I had fought so hard to escape. Sure, you can't get full-blow porn on Facebook, but it's been 18 months of utter celibacy, a stiff breeze will do the trick. I didn't tell my mission president. That kind of thing can get you sent home, and a missionary who returns home early is in for a lot of being quietly ostracized and shunned by the Church community, which you can't escape where I'm from, in the Western US. Which brings us to today. I'm now 22, and I am neck deep in the swamp. I'm at a couple times a day right now. I'm watching some really toxic stuff. I've never chased the high this hard. Nothing is good enough. That actor isn't hot enough, she looks too old, she doesn't do what I like, they all look the same, I have to have harder stuff, without any porn at all I go soft. I can be on the edge of an orgasm, and I toss my phone away and go soft. Yesterday, I masturbated for 30 minutes after I tossed my phone away, thinking, surely, I don't need that to get off. I never climaxed. I'm miserable. I sleep from midnight to noon on my days off from college. Once I'm up, I struggle to get anything done. My schoolwork is slipping, I have a C-D average. I drive people away. My room is a disaster. There's a bottle of whiskey I keep for making steak, I want to drown my thoughts in it. My appreciation for beauty is dead. I look at women like mere pieces of flesh. Art and music hold no satisfaction for me anymore. The whole world is dull and unexciting. My passion, singing, does nothing for me. My voice is shot. My body is sluggish and lethargic. I get sick easily. Part of that is my poor nutrition. I just don't care. Everything is a hassle. I'm angry at God for not removing this from me. Two years of devoted service, I thought that would be enough for God to purify me or help me become stronger. I guess not. I don't even like PMO anymore, I hate it. But its like hating my left leg, what am I supposed to do? Its a part of me, its been a part of me for almost 10 years. So, for any Mormons out there. Be on you're guard. Fix it now. Your mission won't fix it. Not unless you intend to stay in that rubber room your whole life. This has evolved into a whole bucket of sunshine, hasn't it? I don't know that I can quit. After 10 years, you'd think that I'd have gotten better at fighting it. In reality, my will to fight has just been worn away for a decade. Why fight, when fighting is so hard, but succumbing is so easy? Do I even care? I want to be strong, but I. Am. Not. Strong. I've prayed, I've meditated, I've studied divinity and scripture. I'm left with nothing but gritted teeth and a pissed-off motivation. Day 1.