I used to stay up all night binging porn. I'd start at around 11pm and it wouldn't stop till about 7am the next day. I think we could pretty much call that a porn addiction.

I used to be like that, its nothing like that these days, but I lived a secretive porn addiction hippie like life, then go lay down with the woman what was called my wife (now divorced) same bed. I never touched her, I was in a relationship with porn, not her.

Then I'd go to sleep, wake up about 5 hours later then go and binge on some TV series I had downloaded for the rest of the day. That was my life. Its strange reflecting on that today, but that's who I was, I always say, pornography was the perfect drug for me, it was visual, and it bonded perfectly with my secretive, insular and isolationists personality. Plus it bonded with my interest in art, pornography is an art.

It literally felt like I was in love with those women in the images and the videos, like I was making love to them, that's how it felt. It got to the point where I was calling them Goddesses, it was literally an act of worship in that moment. This was a world in its self revolving around porn, it was its own drug, and it left no visible marks or scars. It was a world all to its self, there was no way you'd ever feel like that towards a woman in the real world, it was its own wonder drug. You would go in and live there for an hour or two, and everything could be whatever you wanted it to be, to feel.

I went through a spectrum of different races before settling with white women, for some reason the fantasy seemed more intense.

But its taken me a long time to see, it never translated over into a physical woman, although the desire is towards getting that woman as an objective, it always stopped me at the porn, kept me somewhere between the two by prolonging the pining and yearning. I was in a relationship with porn, in an addiction with porn. 

Because of the way it made me feel, I say it was a part of who I was, and consequently denying the things that I was attracted to and desired it just made me a coward and a liar to my self. I would lust so fully for these women in secret, and deny I ever looked at them in reality. It made me such a coward and a liar, I hated that part about myself. Despite my denialisms in the past, I'm coming to terms with that was who I was. A part of who I was, not just a habit or a behaviour, it will always be with me, something I had to go through.

I have no regrets, only for being such a coward as not to embrace it, and have accepted it, and gone through it sooner, it wouldn't have stretched out so long, I wouldn't have bulit up a life based on a lie, only to have watched it crumble around me eventually.