Oct the 19th – Untitled Bigfoot Project (142/224)

Oct the 19th

Hey Journal. I uh… I discovered something kind of weird about myself. Maybe “discovered” isn’t the right word, but… I uh… I discovered a bit of a pattern.

I said discovered again.

So you know how I said I cut porn out of my life and everything has been great since then? Well, that was, uh… that was kind of a lie. Not the part about not watching porn being great, because living the porn-free life is very great, but the part about cutting porn out of my life. I didn’t want to write about it because that makes it real and also because I’m kind of embarrassed to put this kind of stuff down, but uh… with Tori not in my life as often as usual as of late…

Wow, look at me, blaming my girlfriend for my own weakness.

What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been watching porn a little bit. Not a lot, for no more than tenish minutes a session, no more than one session in a day, and I don’t watch it every day – in fact, I’m never watching it again – but even though it has only the tiniest presence in my life, it uh… it’s been effecting me. Affecting me? I can never tell which one is the right one to use, but I’m avoiding the subject.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the reason for my random mood swings into semi-suicidal depression is because of porn.

Seems ridiculous, I know, I thought the same thing at first, but I’ve been really thinking about it lately, and almost every time I randomly get into a funk and get miserable out of nowhere correlates with me watching porn within twenty-four hours of it happening. It’s not even jacking off that’s the problem, because if I jack off with no porn I feel fine afterwards, while if I jack off with porn I feel drained and dirty and self-loathly. I think the porn just makes my brain release so much extra dopamine that the mechanism by which said dopamine is released gets shorted out, causing extremely low lows which make me feel like everything I do is wrong and that I’m always going to fail no matter what and that I should just get it over with and kill myself already.

So yeah. Could be wrong, because correlation (allegedly) does not imply causation, but… yeah. No more porn, never watching the shit again. It can only be good for me, right? I certainly think so. I’m probably not going to let you know how it goes because I feel kind of silly even writing about it right now, but yeah. No more naughty videos.

Sidebar, I hate using the word “naughty” to talk about sex. Like, hate it. I find it childish and stupid and cringey and fuckin’, like, repressed. There’s nothing “naughty” about sex, it’s a normal part of nature and humanity. Grow the fuck up. /sidebar.

I don’t really have anything else to write about, I just woke up a few minutes ago. I wanted to get this off my chest, and I guess I kind of wanted to make it real, too. I was being “naughty” by watching porn, but I’m not going to be naughty anymore. Officially. Watch me never get depressed again.

Lol, could you imagine if it was that simple? Do away with porn, do away with all traces of mental illness. If only, if only…

…                                     …                                    …

Say thankya, Journal. ‘Preciate ya. Long days and pleasant nights~

This has been the next journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project. Here is everything you need to know about it:

Untitled Bigfoot Project

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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