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.

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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

First, I believe apologies are in order.

I haven't been around much lately, I confess. And for that, you have my sincere apologies. I have a few fair excuses, though, so hear me out before you start with the torches and the pitchforks.

I have been working on a collection of short fiction--drabbles, poems, songs, and short stories--to self-publish. I hoped to self-publish a novella this year, but I ran out of the time and the energy, so I decided to opt for short fiction instead.

I hoped to have it finished by now, but I'm afraid I don't. I only have about sixty pages worth of short fiction, and I'd like to have it a bit longer than that. So I'm trying to come up with ideas for short fiction and write them.

But I can tell you more about that on my writing blog (if you don't follow it yet, here's the link: Whispers of Wind and Song ). After all, writing is supposed to be talked about on the writing side.

I've also been busy with schoolwork and life. We have all experienced it before--you'll be wandering around, minding your own business, maybe picking a few flowers or playing your pennywhistle, and then all of a sudden, WHAM! Life charges out of nowhere and tackles you to the ground.

As some of you know, I'm in tenth grade. I'll be in eleventh in a few months. I'm not doing so well with Geometry or Biology; my mom (who is also my teacher) told me this morning that I may have to re-do Geometry in twelfth grade, because I didn't understand any of it this year. I suppose I don't really mind; just a few more years, and I'll be out of high school for good. I just keep reminding myself that.

Of course, then comes college... I don't know how I feel about that. I'm kind of excited, but kind of dreading it, at the same time. I'm planning on doing an online college called CollegePlus; it's cheaper than most other colleges, and you can graduate with a bachelor's degree in just two years instead of four. It sounds perfect for me, to be honest.

Though there are a few things that I'm going to have take classes on at a community college near her. I would like to take some drama classes, primarily. And that's not something you can do online, unfortunately. Unlike English, which I plan on majoring in.

I've got a basic plan (perhaps rather ambitious, but a plan nonetheless) for that set up. I'll get my English degree, and hopefully find a job as an editor sometime soon after that. It is my dream to eventually save up enough money to travel to a few other countries, and perhaps move there. I would love to live in Ireland or Scotland.

So there's schoolwork, that's been taking up a lot of my time. Then there's work.

I don't really have an actual job. I lurk on Craigslist for jobs suitable for writers like me. I'm a 'crackshot editor', as my mom likes to say--I worked as an editor at a co-op for a while, and I catch most grammar, spelling, and punctuation errors. So I look for people that need an editing job done.

Or a typing job; I can type at a good 101 words per minute if I'm feeling up to it. I never type any slower than 85 words per minute (unless I'm typing and on the phone at the same time, in which case you can't blame me).

I do this because I'm trying to earn up money for an event I've been looking forward to. The only catch is, I have to pay for it.

It's a cruise, hosted by my favorite band, Celtic Thunder. Unfortunately, it costs quite a bit of money--5,000 dollars at least. I only have 1,300 saved up, and the deadline is March 31st.

Impossible? Yes. And I've only just admitted that to myself.

If that fails, I hope to convince my mother to let me take a bit of a road trip--the ideal thing for us to do is to take a plane to Ohio for an event at the United States Air Force Museum, then hopefully spend some time with a few good friends that live there. Then I'd like to go to Iowa, Virginia, and Florida.

I know, those states are quite a bit apart. The catch is, however, that no one in my family has left our state since I was six years old--nearly nine years ago. And we've only left our town a few times since then. If we play our cards right, this road trip of mine will cost less than the cruise I previously wanted to go on.

So yeah, that's what's been going on in my life lately, life-wise instead of writing-wise. How about you all? How's life been treating you?