96 hours clean as of right now – 4 days without looking at porn or masturbating. It has been very difficult so far as I’ve had a lot of moments where I was tempted to open up a browser window and surf to visit some of my “old friends.” The longest I can ever remember going without masturbating and Internet porn is five days. So tomorrow will equal my longest time without. The further I get away from my old habits, the easier it is for me to look objectively at how absolutely crazy some of the things I did really were.

Sharing this kind of stuff – things I’ve never told anyone – has been really illuminating to me as to how far gone I really have been. I hope you guys don’t mind if I share a little more.

Earlier today, there was a thread on NoFap about the guiltiest you’ve ever felt after masturbating. I saw the thread and immediately had many thoughts come to my head – there are many times where I’ve masturbated in a way that made me feel guilty afterwards. In all cases, the guilt was not due to the act itself – I don’t think one should feel guilty masturbating in and of itself – but I felt guilty over the risk I took and the high I got from taking that risk. Every time I masturbated in a risky way, I felt guilty and told myself I’d never do it again.

Some of the dangerous masturbatory things I’ve done for a thrill:

In the car … while driving.

At one point, I took a summer job on the other side of the country. While driving across one of those many flat corn-full states in the middle of the country, I was bored out of my mind and decided that I felt like masturbating. But I was still trying to make it to my next stop for the evening. I didn’t want to stop and felt that I couldn’t wait.

So I reached under the seat and pulled out some porn magazines I had left stashed there for just such a reason and set it on the seat beside me. I put one hand on the wheel and the other in my pants and went to town. I stared at the porn magazine and glanced up at the road occasionally to be sure I wasn’t about to drive off the road, and I did the deed. At one point, I nearly drove off the road – as in, my car was halfway off the road and starting to go down into the ditch. I swerved back onto the road in a cloud of dust. At another point, I sped into a construction zone – fortunately unoccupied (if I recall correctly, it was a Sunday) – and hit a road barrel, leaving a long orange and black mark down the side of my white car.

After I was finished, I stopped to inspect the damage. Other than the mark on the car, there was none. But even then, I knew what I had just done what insanely risky, and I never did that again.

At work.

I wrote in a previous entry how porn had cost me one job already. You would think that I had learned my lesson, but addicts don’t internalize the damage they’re doing. I rationalized every other reason I left that job in my head except for the truth – that it was way too awkward to continue working there after my boss found my porn stash. And while I tried to “go clean” for awhile at my current job, eventually the allure of Internet porn and masturbation proved too hard to resist.

I’ve spent whole days at work masturbating and watching Internet porn while pretending to work.

It started innocently enough with some slightly risque wallpapers – think girls in bikinis. This was innocent enough – it was a small company and I worked with all guys. But it quickly escalated from there. At first, we were all in a big room together. Some days I would be the only person in a big office full of empty desks, and I made plenty good use of my time there. Later, when we moved to a new building and I got an office of my own with a locking door. I would close my blinds and lock the door after lunch for some “private time.”

Recently we moved again to another new building. Again, I retained my office, but the new building lacks locks on most of the offices. Knowing this, I tried to arrange my office in such a way as, if someone suddenly opened the door, I would have a few seconds to ALT-TAB or change desktops from the porn I had open. I normally kept my door closed. Even in spite of all my “precautions,” I’ve had several near misses due to some coworkers who don’t knock before they enter. Even before I decided to give up Internet porn and masturbating compulsively, I had stepped back from this line. With the economy in the shape it is, I can’t afford to lose another job.

In the family van … with my parents driving.

Early in my teenage years, I masturbated in the backseat of a car while my parents where driving. We were driving on a long car trip and I decided I couldn’t wait to get to get to where we were staying, which I think was a motel. There at least I could go in the bathroom and rub one out, but I decided I couldn’t wait.

This was one of the few times I can remember masturbating without porn. Instead, I picked the wildest, vividest image from my collection that I would remember and focused on that while rubbing myself through my pants. My sister was sitting in the seat in front of me, so I tried to angle myself in such a way as though I couldn’t be seen. At one point one of my parents asked me if I was okay; I faked and said I had a stomach ache.

Didn’t get caught, but never did that again either.

In an airplane bathroom at 30,000ft.

In my early 20s, I was on a cross-country red-eye flight. I can’t sleep on airplanes. In fact, I can’t sleep on transportation in general. Not in cars or on busses, and not in airplanes. So I was sitting awake and reading. But I was prepared for any eventuality and that includes carrying printed Internet porn in a manila folder in my backpack in case “I needed it.” Well, I decided that I needed it.

I was sitting by the window, so I had to find out a way to get past the lady sitting next to me. I took the folder from my backback and asked her if I could get past her. I walked up to the bathroom and closed the door. I sat on the toilet and tried to make enough room to get my hands down my pants while holding the printed porn. I kept looking up at the door lock in paranoia, hoping that I had remembered to lock it.

I estimate I was in the airplane lavatory for 20 minutes. When I got out, there were like 4 people waiting, and I felt guilty about that. Even more distressing was, when I got back to my seat, the lady sitting next to me asked me if I felt better.

I’ve pondered that question for almost a decade. I wonder if she knew…

Staring at women from the window.

This is perhaps the most shameful, crazy and downright creepy thing I ever did.

At one point in the summer of 2005, my apartment complex was having serious Internet problems. We couldn’t keep a stable connection. So as you can imagine, this created a huge problem for someone who was hooked on Internet porn. So I weighed my options of going someplace else (such as the office or renting a hotel room – no shit, I seriously considered this idea). But then I looked out the window, where part of my apartment overlooked the pool. There were several women down there tanning themselves. Hmm, I thought, this could work.

So I positioned myself in such a way that I was looking out the window but they probably couldn’t see me. I kept my waist below the window and did my deed.

When I was finished, I was fucking appalled at what I had done. This was (until earlier this week) the most out of control I had ever felt. I was deeply ashamed and felt like the creepiest fuck on the planet. I swore I would never do that again.

Trolling Facebook.

Once Facebook started becoming huge and I realized its potential as a source of pictures, I started trolling Facebook for pictures of girls I knew in bathing suits and masturbating to those. Somehow, it was way more thrilling that I knew these people. One of my favorites was a picture of a girl I liked in high school but never had the confidence to ask out. lifting up her dress to show her polka-dotted underwear.

She was such a nice person. She’s married now, with a kid on the way. Every time I would masturbate to that photo, I would feel so terrible about myself afterwards.