Dear Porn,

I gotta say that this is the weirdest thing for me to be doing right now, but I wanna thank you for lotsa stuff. Y’know, we haven’t been in contact now for like 126 days (but who’s counting), and I’m not gonna lie—I DO miss you. A whole lot. See? I even count the days! That’s how important you are were in my life!! And although I don’t want you in my life anymore, there was a time that you were crucial to my survival. We’ve been through a lot together and, although it’s time to say goodbye, I really must say thank you first.

I want to acknowledge how much you helped me. If not for you, Porn, I would no longer be alive. You see, I for sure would’ve blown my brains out, no doubt about it. There’s no way I would’ve been able to withstand the craziness of my life while growing up. My environment was chaotic, I felt out of control, and you were the only one I was able to really count on. You never lied to me. You, Porn, have always shown up for me—time after time, without fail. When I needed you as a crutch, you were always there. You were my anchor in the storm—the storm that raged inside me, the storm that raged in my home, and all the external storms that ever came my way. You numbed all the bad feelings; you even got me high.

If not for you, I for sure would’ve died. Without you, it would have been just too much. You were so trustworthy. You made me feel good. You made me feel loved. You made me feel safe. You gave me a sense of control. You made me feel like I belonged. You helped me escape from my chaotic life. You eased the intensity of the horror. You helped me forget my past. You helped me escape when I so badly needed to. You taught me so much about sex (even though most of it was false).

On a temporary basis, you took away the pain, the fear, the flashbacks, and the nightmares. For at least a little bit, you numbed the depression, anxiety, and boredom. The worry, guilt, and shame. The anger, loneliness, sadness, and jealousy. You gave me respite from the emptiness . . . the burden . . . the stress . . . the resentments. The abandonment . . . the bitterness . . . the confusion . . . the hurt. From the frustration. The vulnerability. The hopelessness. The helplessness. The hatred. The insecurities.

I want to thank you for all the time you gave me, too (so, so much time you spent with me!). And for the growth (you took me so low, anything after that seems like growth). Thank you for showing me how messed up I was—I would’ve never otherwise asked for the help I have now. I was the slave, and you were my master—thank you for showing me how sweet freedom can be. Thank you for showing me what brokenness feels like so I can hope and pray for wholeness. Thank you for acquainting me so well with what’s fake out there so I can know to seek the real. Thank you for putting me at war within myself so I know to beg God for His serenity. Thank you for getting me so sad and depressed so I can truly yearn for happiness. Thank you for messing up my life so bad that I had to find a way to fix it.

Thank you for putting me through hell to contrast with how wonderful life can be. Thank you for triggering my sexaholism because without it, I never would’ve met all these incredible people in SA. Thank you for showing me what persistence and self-control . . . are not. Thank you for acting like my friend. Thank you for making a shambles of all my contacts with people so I would be motivated to start making amends and rebuild them into strong, firm relationships. Thank you for your unwavering patience. Thank you for putting me through all this, so I can start putting some meaning to my pain.

But now, I’m done with you. You played a role. You served your purposes, and you performed most effectively. At this point, though, I’m just too dependent. You’ve been too pushy (more like relentless), and I’m ready to follow a different kind of Master now.

But thanks again for giving me something to live for . . . even though it was short lived. Porn, you really changed my life, but now I’m changing it again.

Farewell! It’s time I face the music. Time for me to walk on my own—with a lot more dependable help. Time for me to learn to cope in a more lasting way. Time for me to grow up. Time for me to feel. Time for me to work on myself instead of run from myself. Time for me to live . . . and give . . . and be responsible. Time to become strong. Time to become joyful! Time to feel free.

It’s time for me to develop independence . . . and dependence on something much greater than me (and certainly, than you!). Time for my health to shine through. Time for connection . . . “real Connection” (SA 62). It’s time for me to be honest and authentic, to come clean. It’s time for me to face stuff I’ve been dodging, so I can heal.

It’s time for me to recover.

Sincerely,