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September 04 • Painful Pleasure

Day 422

Before I began my years of acting out, it was clear to me that everyone, at least every guy, had the same fantasy and self-pleasuring life that I did. It did not seem like a horrible thing to me. I was functional, even thriving, in many worldly and career pursuits.

I presumed that guys who were living out my 'wonder'-lust in the real world were happy, except for their coming eternal surprise of a hereafter in hell, of course. Entering into the sludge of affairs, massage parlors, alcohol, and whatever else I could apply to my wounds, I began getting a sense of the misery involved in living that way.

I suspect that many people on such a hedonistic rollercoaster never face their suffering. They may even die believing that they have slipped the bonds of morality and accountability into a place of living their uncontrolled desires. I do not think that that perspective can be deemed happiness, but perhaps it reaches the level of 'less painful.' That was not sufficient for me.

In recovery, there is also pain, and to act like there is not is to not recover. I cannot fake this, and yet I keep trying. I am so broken. I always will be broken. It is a life of contentment and love that I seek in the midst of my brokenness, not in place of it.

Today is hard. Today I ramble. Today I hope my wife does not ask to hear my journal entry.




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