I am having a surgery at 11am EST. Since I will be under general anesthesia AND I’m an ultra-paranoid super-worrier, I feel the need to say a few things since it’s conceivable I die.
Hell yeah. That’s me. If you read my drivel, you know that by now.
I Adore My Bride
She is the greatest person I have ever known. In the pantheon of greatness, she ranks as follows:
1. Jesus Christ
2. My Bride
3. Mahatma Gandhi
4. Saint Paul
8. Mother Theresa
9. Alexander The Great
10. Leonardo da Vinci
You could say I think highly of her. My Bride is my inspiration and the reason I aspire to be a good man.
I love you, Baby Doll.
Selfishness is what brought me to create this blog. For a myriad of reasons I allowed my shitty-ass past to turn me into a selfish and self-absorbed person. The only thing that mattered in my life was me.
I could give a laundry list of why I deserve to be selfish. It would be bullshit though. Nobody, least me, deserves to be selfish.
Loneliness, a desire to be wanted and accepted have been the driving forces in my life. I was an abused child. First by my parents. I was beaten, mentally and verbally abused. I was sexually abused by a family member.
As I went through life, everything I did was to protect me. I vividly remember practicing calling up rage in order to fight. I was bullied as a child. I was beaten up quite a bit. As the abused kid I didn’t do much about it, I didn’t know how. All I knew was to hide.
There was one kid in particular that would randomly ride by on his bike. If I were outside there was an ass-whooping coming my way. Eventually I got sick of it. I sat in my yard thinking if a way to piss myself off so I could fight back. I found the fuel when I would think of that guy raping my face. If I thought about that, I became dangerous (I think The Water Boy is actually a loose version of my story). Soon I was able to use anything negative in my life. It started to become easy. I ended up beating the shot out of the kid btw.
Middle School came and I discovered porn. I ended up buying it from a couple of dudes around the block. I have clear memories of the exchanges. I’d make my purchase and run a few doors down. One of my friends had moved away and the house was for sale. The side door we always snuck on was never locked. I would go into the house and do my thing. I even stored my stuff there…until the house sold.
My porn experience was tremendous. Here was the first thing in my life that made me feel good every time. Porn never hurt me. Porn never lied to me, it never belittled me, it never abandoned me. It made me feel better than anything I had ever encountered. Porn was my savior.
As my life progressed I had successes and failures. While my family would dismiss my successes and snicker at my failures, there was porn, ready to comfort me.
I found the love of my life in high school. We dated for years. When I went to college I was incredibly lonely. Sure, I had a friend or two, but they had lives. Porn kept me company. When I would see my girlfriend (she was a senior in HS) she was my focus. She was my cheerleader and the one who celebrated the goods and comforted me on my failures. She was everything I needed. But I always had to leave and go back to school.
When she graduated she went to a school an hour away. I stayed where I was. We saw even less of each other. I was intensely lonely. This was the time I first experienced depression. But my old friend, porn, was there to make me feel good.
Marriage came a few years later. I don’t know why, but porn was still around. My Bride was more than I ever dreamed of. She was my rock spiritually and emotionally; a tigress in bed. Far more than I could ever handle. But porn was still there. I didn’t need my old comforter, I was married now.
There’s a price to be paid when porn is your savior. That price is everything you hold dear. Nothing can take the place of porn. Nothing.
We hadn’t been married more than a few months before she found put about porn. We would make love at night. Afterward I would get up and have a snack. She would fall asleep and I would stay up. They say nothing good happens after midnight and ‘they’ are correct. I would get bored and do the only thing I knew of to pass the time.
Phone sex was an easy way to get my fix. Then she found out. To say she was hurt would be a gross understatement. I lied about it, but she knew.
A baby came soon after. Phone sex continued. Then it became videos. Then it became satellite purchases. The internet sprang up. That was the shit. Porn at home and free. I was like a heroin addict.
She discovered my activities. Being a dumb guy I didn’t know how to cover my tracks. She always found out. It was now I started being rejected sexually by her. What. The. Hell.
Blame for my actions belongs to me. Nobody drove me to my actions. I’m the one that sought out the porn. I’m the one that told the lies and covered things up. I’m the one who visited seedy porn theaters. I’m the one that allowed dudes to come into my booth. I’m the one that did…stuff.
My Bride has an extremely difficult time having sex with me. “Every time we have sex I get these thoughts in my head and they won’t go away.” I’ve never asked what those thoughts are. I don’t ask for two reasons. First, I don’t want to perpetuate the thoughts. Second, I’m not stupid. I know exactly what the thoughts are. One does not need a doctorate in psychology to figure that part out.
I have struggled to examine why I betrayed her. Why did I break my vows? I think I’m beginning to figure it out and what I think disturbs me. Lately, I have been bemoaning my strong desire to be wanted and accepted. That’s the key. I know that when I engaged in my horrible activities I felt wanted and accepted. As disgusting as it is, the acts I committed gave me a brief and very base acceptance from others.
Today I told My Bride that I have been rejected and dismissed my entire life. That my greatest desire is to be wanted, accepted and desired. My deepest desire is not sexual. Sex is nice, but it isn’t my end desire.
I’m exactly like the stereotype stripper with daddy issues that uses her body to be accepted by dudes. I have serious daddy issues. I have virtually no male influences in my life. It seems to me that I was doing anything to be accepted by dudes. Even…you know.
What Does It Mean?
Hell if I know.
Actually, I know precisely what it means. Doing things to be accepted by others is not a recipe for success. It is the antithesis of success. Porn was not my savior. My Bride is not my savior. Sex is not my savior. Nothing of this earth can satisfy my needs for love and acceptance. Only Father God can quench that thirst.
I will be 42 this summer. It has taken me that freaking long to discover where happiness resides. I have spent all these years lost, searching for direction in my life. I know where I need to be going. I think I’m on the right road.
Will my marriage succeed? I dunno. My Bride is an incredibly strong woman. She has a wisdom and insight that borders on biblical. So I have that going for me. I am embracing the belief that everything will fall into place if I pursue God’s will.
I’m on a long journey that has just begun. Going by myself…well that’s what landed me in this mess. I can’t get there by myself. With God and My Bride on my side, we can do this.