Saturday, 7 February 2015

In The Beginning Was The Wank

I have decided to try and go porn-free. Not to cut down, not to give up for a while but to give up for good, for ever; to go, as it were, 'cold jerky.'

Why have I done this? Well, let me tell you now why I have come to this decision and why I think it is the only rational choice for anyone who likes to consider themselves a modern, grown-up man.

It was on New Year's Day, 2015 when I realised something had to give. I had been at a party near my house in London. I had got fairly 'loose' at said party and eventually had passed out on a sofa in the kitchen. I woke up soaked in beer, for I had fallen asleep with an open can in my hand, as I often do.

I got up, said my goodbyes and cycled home. It was a classic London winter morning: cold, grey and unprepossessing. I got back to my house and did what I have always done, more or less, in this situation for my entire adult life: I went upstairs, closed the curtains and opened up my laptop. What else do you do when you feel like shit? Have a massive wank, of course!

This is a path I have followed probably hundreds if not thousands of times during my fifteen-year 'relationship' with hardcore internet pornography. Not always on a comedown but at (pretty much) any time; sneak off upstairs, close the curtains, open an 'incognito' window on my browser and disappear into a fantasy world of hot babes and hardcore fucking.

On this day, however, I was so hungover that no matter how hard I tried or which vids I watched, I just couldn't reach climax. This didn't stop me trying, of course. I thought if I just kept going, eventually I would reach release and I could melt – satiated – into blissful oblivion. I whacked it for hours, searching and searching for better, newer vids to get me excited, constantly feeling as if I was getting close, only to fall back from the brink, go 'soft' and have to start again.

Eventually, I gave up and got into bed feeling cheated. I watched some episodes of something and after an hour or so, decided to try again. I thought, “surely my hangover's worn off by now. Please God just let me come!” But again, no dice. Another hour of desperately searching vids, another hour of furiously* masturbating and still no result! No matter how hard I tried (and I really did), I just could not get there.

* Interesting that this is the adverb most commonly attached to the word 'masturbating.' You never hear of anybody 'languidly' or 'faint-heartedly' masturbating. Whenever it is written down or described in conversation, they are always  nothing other than fucking fuming.

Finally, after probably more than two hours of jerking off, I called it a day. I got into bed and fitfully slept. When I awoke on 2nd January, I thought about what had happened with a clearer head. Was this really me? Was this really the behaviour of a thirty-year-old man? Was this how I wanted to start a new year?

The answer to all of these questions was a resounding 'no!' This is absolutely not who I am. I'm not a pervert. I'm not someone who enjoys 'dogging but in private.' I don't need to sit alone in a darkened room watching other people have sex. This is not me, this is not adult behaviour; this is not what maketh a man.

So why have I been doing it for so long? How did I get here? Why am I acting like a 30-year-old boy? Can I stop?

There it was. The question crystallised right in that moment. Can I stop? Can I cut this behaviour out of my life? Can I end this cycle of shame? I had thought about and even tried giving up porn before, as I had not felt good about it for a long time (maybe even ever). But this, my friends, was my 'bottom' (as it is referred to in AA* circles): the point after which return is impossible, the point where change simply must come (no pun intended): sitting alone in a dark room at the age of thirty feeling mortified in front of my own self. I decided then it was time to break free; time to say goodbye once and for all to my obsession with internet porn.

*Alcoholics Anonymous, not Automobile Association.

* * *

You may think my conclusion dramatic. Surely, it's just a bit of fun? There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's only sex, after all &c. We may have to differ (for the moment) on this point. One thing I hope we can agree on is that the scene I paint is pathetic.

And more than this, it's sad. Here's a man in the prime of life, (I'm not even that bad-looking, honest!) perfectly capable of meeting and connecting with real women not only on a physical but on an emotional level, sitting alone immersing himself in a fantasy which is itself based on the subjugation and, yes, suffering of countless others. What the actual fuck?

It was shame that brought me to my decision. Shame for myself that, too afraid to speak my desires out loud, I was reduced to this reclusive voyeur; shame for the women (and men) who get up every day and make money from selling their bodies, who are objectified and debased so often that it has become routine; shame for the crews, costume and make-up artists, the sound recordists, camera operators, set builders and editors (all of whom presumably never aspired to working in porn) who spend days and hours in studios suffused with the stink of sex, filming close-ups of copulating genitals and cumshots; shame for the fluffers: people whose actual job it is to sit back stage of a porn set jerking off cocks to keep them hard; shame for the cleaners, wiping up jizz on minimum wage; shame for the millions who shut themselves away for hours every day, missing out on real connection, missing out on real life; shame for the children for whom this state of affairs is normal, who never knew a time before the internet and who grow up assuming the warped images portrayed in porn are how things are or should actually be; shame for us all, who live in a society saturated in porn and who are being changed and manipulated by it into people we don't even recognise.

This decision, however, is only mine. It is merely how I have come to feel. If you've worked it out for yourself and feel your relationship with porn is healthy, then more power to you brother (or sister). If you can rationalise porn's existence and justify it on your own terms, then good luck to you. Indeed, I'd be glad to hear from you. All I'm doing here is relating my own experience and narrating how I have come to feel, having thought about it long and hard (no pun intended).

This blog will chronicle my efforts to live a life free from PMO (Porn, Masturbation, Orgasm), the inevitable ups and downs and the dangers and pitfalls, as well as including ruminations on porn, society, myself, life, the universe and everything. Admittedly, it's a broad remit, but the main focus will always be on how to avoid sitting whacking off in front of a computer screen all (or even some of) the time. I hope you find it interesting, useful, hilarious or all of the above.

Yours,


Wayne Carr.

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