So I get to post a 90 days milestone - No PMO, some MO.

This is going to be a long post.

Day 90 - Sept 27th.

So it's been an interesting journey up till here. Last time I wrote something in my journal was on may 6th, just after relapsing and setting course for a new challenge. Before that day I've tried to maintain a constant update for accountability, but also for the record (mine as well as the community's). I kindda failed to do that, or just plainly ignored it in this latest challenge, so I'm sorry for the lack of data but I'll try to make up for the details in this post.

So yeah, I did it, I reached day 90 of a PMO-free challenge. Considering my fapping history (25+ years on every medium you can imagine, in 30 countries, in every situation, even in public) it's a nice feat and I want to take a moment to acknowledge that feeling of pride.

Now, what do I see in the future? I'll slowly convert to a 90 days hard mode while continuing towards a 180 and then 360 days PMO-free. We'll see how many Hard mode streaks I can do in these timeframes. Now that I've managed this personnal record, I don't plan on letting meaningful sexual encounters out of my life (if I can ever materialize them in the physical world) since I know they are something I want for the future.

What happened in this last streak that wasn't there before? I'm not sure what changed, but I know what I've consciously done to make it work, so let's get to explaining this., shall we?

Spreadsheets for Good
​

I've discovered NoFap in the early days of 2016 while engaged in an introspection phase to change my life paradigm. I've tried a few challenges that failed and taught me a great deal about me every time.

On may 6th, I realized my PMO urges were basically coming without warning that I could identify and lacking the energy I simply couldn't stand and face them. I also realized I couldn't remember the last couple of weeks' thinking or feelings, which could've helped understand the whole process. So I started an observation spreadsheet. Sounds boring and it was at first, I was monitoring my Energy, Morale and Struggle (-10/+10 spectrum), Urges (daily count) and PMO (yes or no).

After a couple of weeks, the graph was starting to show very interesting trends and cycles and I learned to read my addictive behavior in these different variables. Every evening, instead of going to NoFap forums and write another of my infused yet boring journal posts, I'd fill my spreasheet and take a look at my life graph, trying to understand what was happening in regard of current feelings/thoughts or previous events. It was a very internal observation process where I left feelings and thoughts run wild like I discovered a new species (as we do).

In this period of time, I decided that my life was too empty and dull for my liking, and that I'd start consistent scheduling of outdoor activities, meditation, reading, sports, social interactions and friends/family helping. Some were daily goals, other weekly goals. The point was to put something in my life I was proud of, that I'd fight for and that could *maybe* enrich my experience by doing it in the long run. Yes, I started hacking my own brain with the seed of change, the idea that instant gratification was a lie and that being in something for the long run was tough but worth the shot.

I wasn't even trying to muster my strength to battle the addiction. I simply let it happen, watched as it happened, and kept a record of the ins-and-outs (no pun intended). This taught me a lot about my behavior and its clockwork precision, of course. But it also had a unsuspected effect of tremendously helping to passively sabotage the instant gratification act. As I watched myself act, I sort of became more and more aware of the cold, the empty and dehumanized being that I was. A few months earlier I had the same realization at a philosophical level - but this time it was an in the flesh feeling. I didn't hate myself for it either, I forced myself not to. I pushed myself through the binge nights and bleak desperation, with the single thought that I was soon going to take care of things, and do it well.

The seed of change
​

The month of June was incredibly filled with binge, extended P use and shame. When I look at the graph today I'm like "Seriously?", but it's there, the record is there, and it's real. During the very last days of June, somehow, the pieces must've clicked together. I still wasn't trying to resist any urge, but strangely for this filth filled times, there just wasn't any. I knew this feeling, I've had it many times in my life already : The short sensation that the last orgasm was still there with me and that I'd never need another one, that I was filled to the brim with physical bliss and that I'd never let it go. Usually a couple of PMO-free days later I'd suddenly relapse and binge frantically to fill myself again with pure bliss. So I knew what to expect, in the form of an abrupt comeback that would be simultaneously terrible and beautiful.

This time, it didn't happen. Everyday I kept coming back to my spreadsheet, filling it with "No PMO" and ever increasing Morale and Energy levels. Still, I KNEW it was coming, the great relapse. It never came. The urges were close to zero, the Struggle was gone. What was that? I asked myself.

After 10 days, I had a very bad migraine (I used to have a lot of them, chronic ones, totally incapacitating) and I felt like crap for 30 hours, a useless piece of meat lying in bed. Something swept over me, the urge to give myself a treat, a moment of extasy. Fortunately, my mind was strong at the core this day and I didn't rush to the computer, nor did I setup an elaborate fantasy. I decided that I could please myself physically if I found ways to do it without artificial or imaginary stimulation. Sure enough, the sensations were here and I had a great time with myself and O'd, just to crash in the wall of my fear that I'd never get out of this mess if I couldn't resist the urges. Shame was everywhere for the rest of the day.

From the next day on, I continued the monitoring, meditation, self-fitness, running, swimming, reading, and connecting with people I've left on the side for years. The seed of change slowly started growing, reinforcing my self-esteem day-by-day, and offering ever more support for the difficult times to come.

The Not-so-Hard Mode​

And boy did the difficult times come. Restless days and nights. Rushing thoughts. Trembling hands. Bestial mood. Dreams made in heaven where I basically lived in a world of sex and woke up with the strongest urge I've ever felt, a compulsion to masturbate my life away, so dreadful it scared me away from acting it out. And the constant fear of seeing this happen right before my eyes. All of these carefully intoxicated-brain orchestrated feelings that I knew I could stop in a simple flurry of clicks on my laptop. Earlier in the process I had decided against a P blocker on my computer : Despite the potential danger of random exposure and limitless online availability, I felt like I needed to KNOW my victory against Porn was a personnal achievement on my own ressources (the NoFap community being part of it), and I didn't want a blocker to tarnish it.

So there I was in the hallway of the challenge house, almost there by mistake since I didn't even say "June 29th will be the last time I watch Porn ever!" (the date doesn't sound right for that kind of announcement). Since I already fucked up the Hard Mode part of it with my migraine-soothing MO, I decided that I would try and have MOs. Why not - I knew it is supposed to slow the rebooting process but rather slow than none was something that resonated in me. I would try and limit them to when it would be absolutely unbearable to not please myself. I called it the Not-so-Hard Mode.

I've read what's to know about MO during a reboot, about fantasy issues and possible Chaser effects. So that's where my efforts really kicked in, that's where my strength was needed. At that point (after 15 days), I had flashes of P over my eyes every time I blinked ; every time I put underwear or went peeing I had to use meditation tricks to avoid enjoying the touch on my penis. It was scary, that's no way to live, being afraid of yourself like that. When things got out of control, I went for a quick MO, and the graph now shows a nice once a week distribution - which wasn't controlled in any way, it's just how it happened.

And the living is easy (Summertime)​

By then summertime was in full swing, and by my place it means a lot of sun, a lot of sea, a lot of foreigners in vacation eager to get as much sun on each body part, a lot of being outdoors, friends visiting, everybody being in a good mood, people living their easy lives.

Spoiler: Triggers

It also meant women barely wearing anything from age 14 on, lots of uncovered skin, bikini galore, topless beaches, untold amounts of cleavage and a plethora of ads featuring models in unbelievable swimsuits.

Fortunately for me, my meditation was starting to get real solid, and though I didn't impose myself a strict zero-tolerance policy over "looking at triggers", I managed to control my gaze, my thoughts and keep the urges out of sight.

A friend visited me and had me learn to juggle, in public places, for the sake of meeting new people. It was a crazily hard thing for me to do (not mentioning I don't juggle), but it worked so well that I had a boost in confidence that kept me floating in real-life-interactions-induced bliss for weeks.

When this faded, I plunged in a dark hole of misery and fatigue (mostly because I was mentally exhausted from having someone to take care of all day long for a week). Down there, I've endured the most insane invasion of P I've ever had. My days were a constant struggle were my brain was screaming for its fix, my body was aching, my nights were viciously filled with the wildest of my fantasies, playing over and over and over in my head and before my eyes. I thought I was going crazy. I thought the end of my heroic streak was closing in. I thought I coudln't resist. I thought I'd lose the fight.

The Challenge​

That thought actually challenged me. I looked at my graph, my spreadsheets, my progress, and thought : "It ain't over till it's over - Bring it on." I must've believed this deep in my core, because my brain stopped screaming, my body stopped aching, my nights cleared and there was calmness in me as the storm was receding. This lasted days. Weeks. A month.

Sure I still saw the urges coming. Sure I had these torrid flashes when catching the sight of a gorgeous girl in the street. Sure I knew what I'd get if I "just got online and...". But the challenge I had voiced kept the temptation at bay. My strength and dedication and thoughts could then be directed somewhere else and I thus reinforced my meditation, my sports, my socials, my introspection, while fighting the odd tenacious urge here and there.

At that point the very thought of P was starting to look like a distant memory - you know what it's about but can't quite recall how it used to be. It started to feel strange, even alien. Something that couldn't be associated with me, surely these blurred memories of a tall and athletic guy in his best 30's fapping his nights away were some sort of mistake.

It doesn't look like much when I say that, but when this kind of feeling truly shows deep inside, it's of tremendous help the next time I had to muster any energy to fight an urge or a thought. It might be what psychology calls positive reinforcement - the better it goes, the more armed you are and thus the better it will go next time.

The Road Ahead​

The last month was a mashup of different ups and downs that have nothing in common with the previous periods of time. It's like I've entered another era of my life, like something has been left behind, like some weight fell from my shoulders. I started reaching out to girls I wanted to connect to on a deeper level ; I've even exploded in love for one after we shared a delicious weekend with other friends ; I've started to put long-delayed plans into motion ; I've opened to a lot of different issues in my direct environment and I'm more and more trying to look up forward to the road that's ahead.

My inner fearful child says I'm trying to go too fast too soon, and I might crash hard, risking to lose all progress made thus far.
My inner challenge monkey says I'm doing great for someone that's attempting a complete change of life, and that the time is now, tomorrow might not happen.

Since the challenge monkey helped me make the most persistent change so far in a direction that I wanted for my life, I tend to listen to him and cheerfully accept his challenges.
Since the fearful child contributed to keep me in an addicted state of shapeless being for decades, I'm mostly telling him to shut the fuck up, while reining down a little bit on my expectations (but don't tell him, I don't want him to know).

I realize my brain isn't fully rebooted. Yet I'm not done and I'll get there.
I realize that my personality will always be at risk with overstimulation especially during depressive episodes, hard times and exhausting events. Yet this is the life worth living, the one we choose to. Not the one where we end up doing what this intrusive friend comes uninvited in our lives because we've always let him do so, so he's at home in our life, to the point where we don't.

Next stops in the Success section will be :

90 days Hard Mode*
180 days Not-so-Hard Mode
180 days Hard Mode*
360 days Not-So-Hard Mode
360 days Hard Mode*​

* : That's if my efforts in courting these ladies are unfruitful. Otherwise I won't let it pass for the sake of Hard Mode. This might seem like a big "fuck you" to the entire rebooting process, especially since I've kept some MO in my life during these 90 days. The goal is to kill the overstimulation, return to real life sensations and thinking, get closer to the real and further from the fake. While Hard Mode might help us big time recover the brain's factory settings faster, I believe a physical interaction with another human being might do even better in the form of anchoring ourselves in a positive and enjoyable reality. (Just my own present mindset, this is subject to change without prior warning ^^)

Meanwhile I want to find a job I believe in, finish therapy (not a porn-based therapy), find a girl who likes me and that I like, move in a new place, travel to more countries/cultures I've never encountered before, develop a social project I have with a friend, start volunteering in a local addiction support group.


If you've read this post this far, you probably either were curious to see what the kicker would be, or you genuinely have it in you to purposefully withstand painful episodes in exchange for the chance to learn something that might prove useful to you in the future. And if you read me properly, you know that this probably was the most important key to what I've been trying to accomplish during the past half-year.

While I've gotten into detailed account instead of extracting the wisdom behind it, I do hope that if you're reading this, it will bless you with something more than just the anecdote of my story. I hope you will get inspired (that doesn't mean copying mindlessly) and will be stronger on your own way.

Peace

 

You probably missed the part where it's been a continuous change rather than going cold turkey and failing repeatedly, and that change allows me to be on a nice and serene streak of no-P and no-MO with confidence and hope. Maybe that could be of interest since you're persuing the same goal (which is long term anyway). More about that in 62 days.

During the challenge I haven't, no, but I wouldn't call that a struggle since I haven't been trying to get arousal or erections ^^ It's been 22 days since my last MO, and at the time it was a very normal erection. Since then the morning wood or nightly hardons feel a little softer down there. But then again I'm not playing/touching so I kinda lack my hand/touch reference for comparison with P-caused ones.
A side note though, I've always wondered how friends could be embarrassed (say, at the beach) by having a hard-on just by looking at a woman. That kind of things never ever happened to me. Extremely rarely with fantasized thoughts, a bit more commonly by physical contact.