“An angel of Satan [2 Cor. 12:7], which is the spirit of fornication, is given to some to buffet their senses with strong and abominable temptations, and afflict their spirit with foul thoughts and very vivid images, which sometimes is pain worse than death for them.”
These words from St. John of the Cross have been experienced by every person who ever suffered from the burden of same-sex attraction and an addiction to pornography; since I have been blessed with both – I can relate on either level. I write that somewhat sarcastically, as any suffering, given to us by Our Lord, can be a blessings, depending upon what we do with it; but, on the other hand, it can also become overwhelmingly arduous and a source of great pain and desperation. But, this only came to me later. For, as a child, my mind was still rather unsullied - the most hardcore thing I had ever seen were the bouncing women on the so-called jiggle shows of the 1970s: “Charlie’s Angels,” “Three’s Company,” and “Wonder Woman.” When I got my first taste of “Playboy,” my mind would be forever altered.
In my youthful, undeveloped brain, erotic imagery, emotional attachment, and physical response became locked. The picture became more than the picture; it became: a source of pleasure, excitement, escape, masculinity, and relief. As my porn addiction progressed, the images became bigger, brighter, and more vivid. Then, they began to move upon the television screen – powered by the new technology of the home-video-recorder. Once that happened, the image in the mind was not enough – I needed to place myself within the action. I wanted to partake, not just observe. So, when I got into porn, I thought that those old images would go away – as I was replacing them with the real world of materiality. They didn’t. What I was doing just got overlaid upon the others. It was as if everything became repainted; the shadow of what had been was still barely visible under the new layer. My thoughts, who I was, and what I had become – merely intertwined with the false universe of porn. In a sense, I ceased to be.
When I finally got out of that life, I wanted to forget. Only, I couldn’t force what had been seen – to become unseen. They were imprinted within the book of my brain; and the pages kept flipping. I wanted it to stop – it wouldn’t. And, because these images now included myself – they became all the more powerful; for, they not only brought back memories and sensations, but my own experience. It was like reliving it all over again. Strangely, these flashbacks became part dream and part nightmare: intermingled were emotions of pleasure, affirmation, and security with pain, remorse, and loss. But, unbeknownst to me, at the time, I had to go through that purging. It was difficult, but necessary. Why? Because, the Lord was slowly and deliberately stripping away all that was my past self. I was seeing it again, now, with a clearer mind, understanding why I had become so loathsome. Then, those images no longer elicited excitement, but revulsion. And, finally, I was free. It took years, but it is possible. The secret: to just nail all those old images and pictures to the Cross. It’s a sort of violent ripping of them away from the flesh. When you done, you are left almost completely denuded. Only, at that moment, God will remake you: in His image.