My childhood was filled with anxiety and fear, which have persisted into adulthood. I faced rejection, exclusion, deprivation, and bullying over my body image, along with homophobic remarks—both direct and indirect—from caregivers. This led to internalized shame, which fueled my need to develop coping mechanisms to numb the pain. For me, escapism took the form of drug use, temporarily suppressing the hurt. But as the addiction deepened, it became increasingly difficult to climb out of the hole I had fallen into.
The recovery journey is incredibly hard. For me, recovery means complete abstinence from alcohol, drugs, and smoking. It also includes strict abstinence from all sexual activities for at least a year. I can’t masturbate without watching porn that reflects my past sexual interests and my history with chemsex addiction. So, if I can’t do it without porn, I’d rather not do it at all. Having sex with someone is completely off the table.
Yesterday was especially triggering. A conversation with a sibling became very stressful, and the idea that I wasn’t being trusted for my advice—when I know I’m right—really worked me up. There are so many things to fix, and as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I felt low last night. Only three people truly care about me now, and they know who they are. Don’t check in with me only when it suits you—I don’t need that. My journey is painful enough, and dealing with dismissive attitudes right now is not helping me at all.
