“I don’t pay sales tax on things I… don’t buy!” It was about ten minutes until the store I wanted to go to was scheduled to open. I’d also been awake for over sixteen hours, needed to get home to write, and go to bed at a decent hour for work. Without even a moment of hesitation, I left, and next thought about the store about fifteen minutes later, without the slightest bit of regret.
It never truly goes away. Despite your best intentions, and no matter how good life might appear on the outside, it’s hard to address that inner anguish that might creep in subtly as one bad day after another, with a crash bang relapse, or just randomly. How can we address that stress if we don’t express it? How can we express that stress if we don’t know we’re in it? When the pain goes away?
It’s taken me 20 years to kick this addiction. Or, at least, not giving in daily. Since it’s difficult for me to write about this topic, this essay will probably be good for me. Unfortunately, I can’t find an easy way to say the problem directly. Similar to writing “My Penultimate Trip,” it’s a topic I’ve avoided, and I felt much better after writing that essay. Here goes: I no longer indulge in viewing pornography daily!