the process

Usually, before, I feel really great. Usually it's because I've gone a while w/o looking at porn. I have that moment of pride, look how far I've come, look what I have done!
And then the fall seems inevitable.
Even when I recognize the thought immediately as pride and try to act against it. It seems like once that thought has entered my head, uninvited, it's done. Seems like later that day I will give up what I've worked for and give in to the temptations which do so easily beset my soul. Even if I read scriptures or listen to a conference talk.

Uuuuuugh why am I trying?

I guess it's because even if I can only last two weeks between incidents, those two weeks are somewhat happy. I mean, if I was looking at porn every single day, I would feel so dirty every single day. And I would hate myself every single day. As it is now, I only hate myself two or three times a month. The rest of the time, I can tolerate me.

I'm so scared right now because last time I talked to the bishop, he was serious about consequences. He said it's like when you drive around without a seatbelt, you don't always get hurt. But one time, you'll drive without a seatbelt because that is your habit, and then that's it. The consequence takes your life in one form or another. I'm terrified to go back to him, I'm scared to lose my membership or something. I went against his direct warnings, against the Lord's direct warnings to me.

But I've done everything he said! He told me to stop watching TV. I did. He told me to stop listening to the radio. I did. He told me to start listening to Sherri Dew. I did! He told me to put a picture of the Savior near my computer and I did, and he told me to read Believing Christ and I am. I've been reading scriptures every day--
Oh. I did skip a day this week. Is that why? Is that what caused my fortifications to fail?

Shouldn't I be given MORE strength and not just regular strength when I'm following my bishop's council?

This last time, the picture of Jesus was there again and I looked at it. My bishop said he wants me to tell the picture that I don't care if I hurt Him. Okay, okay. That part I didn't do. I couldn't, again. But I wonder if I'd forced myself, tried harder to force myself, if that would have changed my mind.

I said it in my head, though: I do care if I hurt you but I guess I don't care enough. I don't care if I hurt me.

Then the rationalizing. I've already gone this far.

THIS is how it happens for me. I'm usually on the internet and something, some image, will catch my eye. It's not a particularly offensive image, but it will inspire a curiosity, sometimes about the image and sometimes not at all. Then I'll do a Google image search and I'll look up a word that is totally innocent by itself and hope that I accidentally find an image that tickles my fancy, so to speak. I'll click the image and it might take me to a questionable site, oops. It's so ridiculous. It's only me in the room and I'm pretending. I'll continue searching for innocent words that could be dangerous until I find something awful, then, soon enough, I don't care anymore, and I'll type in whatever will most quickly get me the pornographic material I am looking for.

And then- I've already gone this far. I'm already in it, my hands are already dirty. There's no point in stopping now.

And then I die a little. And I never like it enough. I never enjoy it enough. It's never what I really want and it's never ever ever ever enough to justify my departure from the Spirit. And I do one of two things: 1. Cry. Beg the Lord to forgive me again. Fear and tremble in my heart. HATE myself. 2. Ignore it. Go to sleep. Mentally shrug my shoulders and tell myself, see? I knew you couldn't quit. Oh well. HATE myself.

I feel so trapped. How cliche is that. I feel trapped in a cave without holes, in a tiny space, squashed down by the ceiling and I can't even breathe. And it feels like I'll never breathe again. And it feels like I'll never see again.

Oh, Lord, wilt thou redeem my soul? Wilt thou deliver me out of the hands of mine enemies? Wilt thou make me that I might shake at the very appearance of sin?

Sometimes I wish God would make me be good. I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't mind if He took my choice away so that I could do the right thing.
But it seems like forced righteousness isn't righteousness at all. Where there's no choice, I don't think there's any real happiness. I don't think there can be.

Still, I completely understand John Donne's Holy Sonnet XIV. "That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend/ Your force to break, blow, burn and make me new." and later, "Take me to you, imprison me, for I/ Except you enthrall me, never shall be free/ Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me."

Despite my behavior, I do love my Father and His Son. At least I think I do. Sometimes I wonder if it's really love, because why would I treat someone I love the way I treat them? For that matter, do I really love my children?