That Day of the Week

Hello, fapstronauts!

I would like to talk to you about something a lot of us know very well.

Saturday. For me it's Saturday. That is the answer I will give to any person that will ask me what is the most difficult day for me. I've got the house to myself in the evening which often cause a sort of melancholy for me. That's a sophisticated way of saying
"I get lonely". Add to that the fact the I sometimes need to work into the night on academic projects I often need to submit, that cause some frustration.

P always did the trick for me, at least temporarily. It's powerful in masking those feelings. In the past, I even excused myself of PMO'ing under the pretense that I feel lonely, and because of that its ok. It often did cause the lonely feeling to disappear, but instead of it came that awful sense of emptiness, of guilt, and of despair.

Well, today is Saturday, and I'm definitely not relapsing today. PMO is never o.k, especially in those times when it feels that it is. That loneliness is an illusion. I've got enough people who are important to me, who care and love me, and I'm backed by an awesome community of great people who want to make a positive change in their lives. Today I will win this.

Stay strong my friends, and I give my ward, I will too.

Cheers

 

Oh... This is hard.
I don't know what to do. The urges are so strong. I wish I could feel the emptiness and sadness I get after PMO'ing right now. I'm having a hard time finding a source of strength to hold on to. It's so confusing; Wanting something I know I need to avoid so badly.
Here is a poem Nelson Mandela used to recite to himself during his incarceration. I hope it'll give me the strength to hold on.

Invictus
William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.