Roses from Tears

Quitting is hard especially cold turkey

I remember how it started. It was near the beginning of Covid in March of 2020 and I was obsessed with this TV show. I didn't like how some of it had been written and was searching for some inspiration online from some fanfictions. At this time I didn't understand the word smut and now I wish I didn't know what it meant but at least now I can avoid it. Anyways I innocently came across such a fanfic (on Wattpad ironically) and read it. It fired up my imagination and curiosity. I'd never read anything like it before and I wanted to know more.

Bad idea..because during this "investigation" I came across the word "masturbation". My never-ending
" need to know more" personality led to making a Google search and what I found was very interesting. Results said  a natural phase/behavior for a hormone-raging young woman, others looked at it from a Biblical standpoint saying it was wrong but most were wordly answers so naturally (due to my sinful flesh) I decided to try it. The devil asked "Did God really say it was wrong? It's not mentioned by name." Never allow yourself to question God, I've learned that now.
Even though the Bible indirectly, but yet directly speaks against it, I constantly tried to find loopholes and excusses to work around it.  I read over those responses and only read into the ones that were convenient for me trying to justify my masturbation, erotica and light pornography problem.

Soon however I realized I couldn't keep rationalizing and finding loopholes. I felt super convicted, realizing I was doing just what my father did. It was going to destroy me, my family and my future and I couldn't shake that feeling. So I determined that I was going to quit flat out. "Cold turkey" as addicts called it which was exactly what I was.
But no matter how hard I tried, squirmed, and cried I couldn't just quit. I had cycles of  being "good" and "bad". I'd go for a week or so of not looking at erotica (smut) or masturbating, but then I'd slip up and fail for a few days. I'd get so angry at myself, and felt like a complete failure. I promised God that I was going to quit, but once again I messed up and failed Him.

Everytime I messed up I'd feel so dirty. Too dirty to read my Bible, pray, or go to church. I was a failure, and I didn't deserve to be able to do those things. I was sure God didn't want me praying to Him, or worshipping Him, or getting into His word...because I was a dirty sinner. I hated myself so much that I couldn't accept Him loving me and wanted Him to hate me as well.  The concept of God willingly forgiving me without any hard feelings or expecting anything in return was foreign to me. It was unnatural and just plain wrong. I messed up and therefore should suffer...but God didn't separate Himself from me  I starting cutting myself off from Him. I told myself I didn't deserve to be with Him; not until I got my life together. By distancing myself from God  as if I was punishing myself in order to compensate for, and make up for my shortcomings. I remember feeling as if I had to wait weeks to get back on good terms with God. Then,
after those weeks passed I'd finally be able to truly pray, worship, and get into His word again. To me it was so inappropriate to look at porn and masturabate one day, and then go to church the next day. I couldn't take being there! I didn't deserve to be there. I was a dirty sinner. Only clean people are allowed in church, and besides, I'm sure Jesus didn't want some wretch like me in His church and His word, and praying to Him.My prayers probably wouldn't even make it to Heaven, or even worse: He'd ignore them. I felt too dirty to interact with God at all. I remember trying to get up really early in the morning to spend time with Him, scrubbing myself red in the hot shower, and listening to worship music while forcing myself to cry in attempts to win God's love back, get back on His good side, and finally be able to be with Him again. I thought that was the only way. I did this for weeks and months, because I felt that it cleaned me up, made God less mad, and enabled me to come back to Him. But no matter how much I did it  I was always backsliding.

Eventually I gave up. I just snuck deeper and deeper into sin. I fell behind in college, masturbated and read erotica multiple times in a day and even in a single hour. The stress from falling behind just sent me into another spin because even though it was short term it was pleasurable and distracted me from my pain. However it just hurt me more by increasing my behavior. Being alone a lot didn't help. I was doing online college full term but my sister and mom were still working so it was many days home alone for hours. My anger and depression peaked around the middle of the year. I had many emotional breakdowns, had a short temper and high irrability, and had very dark suicidal thoughts. Many times I thought to myself that my family didn't need me, that I made everything worse and they would be happier without me. I thought up many ways to do it and I scared myself by thinking I should go to hell because there was no hope for me. I was doubting everything even God's existence. One entry in my diary from that year I swear the devil must have written through me it was so drear. I came to the point that one night when I was lying on my bedroom floor in the middle of a mental breakdown I cried put to God. I said I couldn't do it anymore and asked that if He was real, if there was hope for me, and if He loved me and wanted me to live to provide help for me. And boy did He deliver! God has so much grace and mercy. He hears us in our pain and answers.

Goodnight and God bless! This story will continue! Please feel free to comment if you need help, advice or just want to learn more.
🤍 JN