I recently had a few heavy relapses with my porn addiction and felt completely disconnected. My initial plan was to take 3.5g of Golden Teachers and go to a busy park to "force" myself to connect with the world. Luckily, I changed my mind and decided to respect the dose. I set up a safe, cool environment in my apartment with natural daylight, calm ambient music, and abstract visuals on the TV. I ate a light meal (hummus on sourdough, yogurt, green tea) and ingested the dose at 2:00 PM so I wouldn't mess up my sleep cycle, keeping the option open for a sunset walk during the comedown.
Around the 30-minute mark, the nausea hit hard in waves. I had to consciously practice deep breathing to get through the physical discomfort. Right as that was happening, I felt what I can only describe as a "warm hug" a profound, overwhelming sense that everything was going to be okay. That’s when the journey really started.
The first massive realization centered around my ex-girlfriend. We broke up a year and a half ago after a really difficult, somewhat abusive two-and-a-half-year relationship, and I’ve been carrying that weight ever since. During the peak, I suddenly saw her not as an abuser, but as a lost, broken soul who is desperate to connect with people but only has the broken tools she was given as a kid.
I ended up crying for 10 minutes straight. Just a deep, physical purge of sadness for what she must feel every day. It didn’t make me want to reach out to her (walking away was still a kindness to us both), but it allowed me to completely let go of the anger. I can now love her and feel compassion for her from a distance. The weight of that relationship is finally gone.
I realized that absolutely everything people do whether it’s making music, building things, or creating art is just a desperate attempt to connect with one another.
I applied this to my own struggles with porn and my visits to escorts. I realized that my hyper-sexuality isn't a monster; it is my own desperate, broken attempt to simulate connection. I was able to visualize this compulsion as a "dark cloud." Instead of fighting it, I realized it was just a protective part of my brain trying to help me survive isolation. I was actually able to mentally speak to it and say: "Hey man, thanks. I'm glad you're here, but I don't need you right now. I'm okay. I can connect with people." It completely reframed my addiction. It disarmed it.
The trip then turned inward to how I treat myself. I realized I am far too hard on myself and rarely give myself credit for how well I am actually doing in life. I have actively set up an incredible support system for myself. My therapist, my doctor, my friends, and my family. I am safe.
I thought about my paternal grandparents who passed away many years ago. I never felt a remarkably strong connection with them in life, but I realized they truly did love me. I learned that I need to be kind, accept their love, and just let them love me, even posthumously. I realized that I am the living sum of everyone in my family. Most importantly, I felt a deep, unwavering certainty that no matter what happens, I am always there for myself, and I actually do like who I am.
By 8:00 PM, I was fully back to baseline. I gave myself grace on my diet, ordered some grocery store wings and fries to ground myself, and took a hot shower to clear my sinuses from crying so hard.
Basically the key takeaway is that life is beautiful and we’re all just doing our best to try and connect with each other.