Don’t Be So Hard On Yourself

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I’m currently taking Psychotherapist JM’s porn addiction advice.

The addiction specialist she was forwarding me to has been on leave, so perhaps tomorrow I’ll get an appointment with her as well. There is apparently no addiction specialist on the NHS, despite 11 million Brits being addicted to online porn. So JM has given me the best advice she can.

We discussed how talking to pornstars on Twitter has locked me into porn, and my tweed feed of both this anonymous and my other eponymous Twitter account has been a constant reminder of my addiction, with the tweets of porn girls appearing in my feed every time I logged on. I unfollowed them in their HUNDREDS. It felt good.

Porn addiction isn’t going to be cured overnight. By tomorrow my plan was to have cut down by a seventh. So by tomorrow I should have only watched it 6 days out of 7. (I went home and was watching porn within a matter of hours. I thought I’d totally fail.)

JM asked me to think about what it is that I would want from an intimate relationship. What would it look like? What would I want to give?

She pointed out that with the increased time I have, I can cook a meal or give myself some pleasure of a more rewarding kind.

I described how I’m feeling isolated now that nobody has any money and everyone stays in. She suggested that I could look for voucher deals on websites like Living Social.

She advised me also to pare down my social media use. It Facebook and Twitter do not offer the kind of human interaction we need- certainly not the type I need.

So how did I do? Well, I actually haven’t watched any porn since last Monday. I find it hard to believe myself. The urge has been there, though, and I’ve been fighting it daily. The technique? Walk away from the computer, leave the phone in the lounge, go to bed, have a wank. It seems to work.

I asked my male friend group and my female friend group if they fancied going for a meal instead of getting pissed, even though we don’t even get pissed any more. The males said there was already a plan to get something to eat and they’d let me know. Well, thanks. The females- one in particular- just said she’s “not down for restaurants”. She just wants to get pissed. Well, wake-up call, KOC- That’s not what I want. I don’t just want to get pissed. I want a decent night out, and I’m prepared to pay for it. Going for lunch instead of an evening meal can give you meal deals that are cheaper still.

Have I reduced Facebook and Twitter use? Not noticeably. Although I have done a fair bit of reading and skipping in the sun and I’ve been watching movies and the Commonwealth Games, so I can’t have been on Social Media that much.

So as the week has passed, I’ve been jotting down thoughts about what I want from an intimate relationship.

  1. Everything I did with C from Baa Bar. Sex. Cook meals for her. Look after her a little. Cuddles and affection, just with a little more meaning.

  2. I’d like us to meet each other’s friends.

  3. And have music in common. If she’s into house, she’s onto a winner.

  4. Class. I don’t want any more chavs. No more bad attitudes.

  5. Good looks. I have to be visually turned on and if I’m not, there’s no point even trying.

  6. I’d like us to be able to do things in Manchester, like go for meals or to events. I want to share time with her, doing things that I was going to do anyway.

Progress, people! With C is still on holiday, now all I need is a woman to actually have sex with!

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