Monday, May 12, 2014

A Confession

I want to say something before I continue—certain readers, especially those of you who are younger, might do well to proceed with caution. I don’t go into explicit detail about anything, but the following subjects might not be something some people should be reading. If something said starts to make you uncomfortable, definitely stop reading if that is what you think you must do.


It was a fairly ordinary day when it started. I think I had recently turned thirteen. I was browsing YouTube. It started out as an innocent search for something-or-other (I no longer remember what), but the videos in the sidebar, the ones I continued to click on, began to get considerably less innocent.

I kept going. Something was pulling at me; and while a part of me knew that my mom would be very upset if she saw me, another part of me… wanted to keep going. And I did.

At first, it was just YouTube clips and videos. But then it progressed to other websites.  I began actively searching things out, sneaking onto the computer late at night when I wasn’t supposed to, simply so I could proceed with my dealings in secret.

Well, there’s the premise. Here’s the main point of this blog post in one simple statement:

I was, and still am (though to a lesser extent), a porn addict. Another lust-based addiction developed some time after that addiction began.

Those of you who are squeamish probably want to stop reading here. As I said, I don’t go into explicit detail, but I do go into the very basics. 

I regret to inform you that this isn’t a blog article with a happy ending—not yet. I’m still struggling, and I’m still giving in. I haven’t found healing or redemption yet.

That’s not what the point of this blog article is. The point is to confess, because this has been festering inside my mind for nearly four long years. Judge me if you will; and I’m sure some people are going to drop contact with me. But this needs to be put out there, if only because a select few that I can think of deserve to know the truth.

I didn’t tell anyone for two and a half years. The WiFi I used (sneaking onto the neighbour’s) stopped working after about six months, and since the only other internet access was in sight of others during the day, my little secret stopped.

So I had two reasons for not telling anyone—one, I had ‘stopped’ and I wouldn’t ever do it again (or so my childish mind told me), and two… porn addiction was a guy thing. After all, society said so, right? If only guys had this problem, what might happen if I, a girl, were to admit I had the same problem? I thought I must be the only girl in the world like this; something was seriously wrong with me, it had to be!

Well… I did do it again. It started, I believe (I’m not totally certain), right after one of my favourite singers and a friend of mine, George Donaldson, passed away.

You all heard about that somehow, I’m sure (most of you probably heard of it from me). Call me stupid, but the death of that man broke me beyond imagining. My entire life twisted upside-down along with my shattered heart—I became furious with God, and basically defied Him, turned away from Him.

And, I suppose, my subconscious turned back to my poison for solace—porn.

A vicious circle was put into motion. I would spend a few days indulging in my particular poison, and then I would sink into guilt. I would go a short while without looking at any inappropriate images or videos… and then it would start up all over again.

Around this time, another lust-based addiction surfaced. I hate the word, so I won’t use it—but basically, this was an addiction to self-stimulation, because it felt good. Yes, I know. I think it’s disgusting too, but I still do it. It’s a fight to stop at this point.

About a month after George’s death, the guilt and pain got to the point I started to do something I never thought I’d do—cutting.

I never went and I have not gone too deep—my knives are too dull for that. But I have gone deep enough and drawn enough blood to leave scars. I now spend most days, even the hot ones, wearing hoodies or long-sleeved shirts to hide my arms.

Well, at some point—I don’t remember exactly when; the last few months are a bit of a blur—I joined what is essentially an online dating site.

Most, if not all, of you know what roleplaying is; those actions written within asterisks, *like so*. The things I roleplayed while on that dating site started off small, but ended up too hideous for me to put here. The one good thing that came from that is that the guilt and shame I felt after the last roleplay session was so strong, I—with my mentor and my adoptive mama urging me to—left that site.

The viewing of inappropriate content continued, though.

Anyway… I’ve stopped looking at online content. For now. The other addiction of self-gratification continues. Am I trying to stop? Well… I’m trying to avoid the online content altogether. The other addictions (the one I mentioned above, as well as self-harm) will come later. One step at a time.

In case anyone is wondering, no, I haven’t turned back to God yet. I’m confused, and still angry with Him, for various reasons. I’ve tried to go back to Him, I really have—I just can’t yet, I guess.

So… that’s the real me. Or, rather, one aspect of me I hide behind my daily mask. I’m an often-suicidal porn addict with various mental disorders, people. That’s the only way to put it. And I’m the last person most people would have expected to turn out this way. A lot of people call me things like ‘innocent’ or ‘sweet’, or tell me they see the light of Christ in me, or that they’re proud of me.

When I hear that, I want to scream or cry or hurt myself or something. Because nothing is further from the truth. Nothing. Then again, it’s what I wanted people to believe—the mask I wanted them to see as real.

Why did I write this? Because I needed to confess (I’m just now deciding to tell my mom, for goodness’ sake), and besides that, a few people I know who will read this—especially new friends, and old ones who have known me for a long time—deserve to know the truth. And now they do. I’m just… well, like I said above. Just an often-suicidal porn addict with various mental disorders.

I won’t fault anyone if they drop contact with me, so if you feel the need to, or your parents tell you to, then do so. I won’t get upset; I completely understand. And those of you who decide to stay in contact… I will never understand you people, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed that you did decide to stay.

Until next time,

Theodora Ashcraft


  1. I'm still here. :)
    Freeing isn't it? Confession is always worth it. I had to do some major confessions a couple of years ago to my parents, and even though I was scared to death, it was totally worth it.
    I am so glad for you, honestly. Keep on pressing on.

    1. Thank you, so much. :)

      A little. I'm still scared to death, though. :P I'm sure I won't be, after a while.

      I'll try. Thank you.

  2. God is never done with you, Teddy. Nor will I be, for as long as I'm ever able.

    And you know what? I don't care what you think about yourself, I do see the light of Christ in you. I don't give a hoot for what you've done, or what things you may still do. God is alive on the inside of you. I see it in the way you love people. I see in the way you hide your hurts from the ones you love, because you don't want them to be hurt. I see your fierce protection of those you care for. You think all that God in you goes away because of this confession? Of course not.

    Your love is not a mask.

    And you can't love without God, because God loved you first.

    A $100 bill that has been trodden on, mud-slung, and rolled up into a ball does not change its worth. And anyone with half a brain knows they can still pick it up, iron it out, and keep it. That's true of God with us. No matter what the world has slung at us, no matter what we've waded through, God is still madly in love with you. He'd have died for the you that you are right now if you were the last person on earth.

    Jesus hanging on the cross thought of you, how you are now, and knew He had to stay there because He thought of you, and couldn't bear the thought of an eternity without you.

    I could rant forever so I'll quit it now. But please. Don't forget. And I'm still proud of you, as is your Father in heaven, but infinitely more so.

  3. Amen to Bushy.

    Okay, I won't say I'm proud of /you/. But I am proud that you had the courage to confess. It's something I could never do, and I'm years older than you.
    I'll be praying for you, lovely. Remember your big sis is always ready and waiting for you, with open arms, and hands that are just as dirty as yours, if in different ways. * little smile * I love you, Tedster.

    I'm not going to push you back to God. I will help you when you're ready, and gently guide you, but I know what it's like to be angry, and it's not a feeling that can just be shoved away in an instant.
    Take your time and make your reconciliation with God. And eventually, I do pray you will reconcile with yourself as well.

    Your habits may not be anything to be proud of, but your caring spirit and loving heart are. Because of that, you are sweet and kind and wonderful, and that is why you are loved. Anyone who is disgusted by you after reading this is an idiot, because there is not a single person on earth who does not sin. Everyone has an addiction of some kind; everyone sins. And all sins are the same to God. Everyone is dirty. You, me, Andy, Siân, Bush, everyone.

    But whoever loves you less for your personal sin does not know the love of Christ.

    *hugs very tightly * I love you, little sister.

  4. All I can say has already been said so well, by everyone else. So I'll just say this: I love you, sis. And I always will.

  5. Teddy, I love you. That won't change. I love you, and God loves you, and you can never, never change how much he loves you, or how much he will do to bring you back. He'll be there for you. And I will too... I'll do my best.

  6. As usual, I'm coming late to the party. *hugs the dickens out of Renna* I struggle with a lot of the same things (not the cutting/suicidal part), and it breaks my heart to hear that my Renna is struggling with them. *hugs again* I love you and am praying for you.

    1. *hugs back tight* I'd rather have you come to the party late than to completely shun me. *small smile*

      *hugs back again* Thank you. I love you too, Jody, a whole lot, and I'm praying for you too.

  7. Do you know something? I one hundred percent love you. <3