The Divorced Son: Part Three | Reflections

A silhouetted of a boy walking alone through a city

               I have always been looking for someone that can replace the father I lost.  I knew it couldn’t be Randy, he was the guy my mother ended up with after the divorce.  He was a jerk.  At least, I felt he was because deep in my heart I knew he had stolen my family.  Destroyed it!  He was a bartender from one of the places my mom worked at when I was young.  It just happened too fast.  I felt it in my bones.  I hated him.  Another theme in my life, anger.

               I was so angry and fearful.  I would have nightmares about my stepfather, and I could never fight back.  It was like I was drowning, and my arms were pinned to my sides.  I would wake up with my jaw clenched so tight I would have to work the muscles out to loosen them.  I never really gave Randy a chance.  I never would.  And, possibly, I made it harder for him to be that part of our family.  But there is more to the story than just that.  I don’t really remember a ton of it, but what I do remember is strongly pressed into my memory.

               Like the suitcase of porn in the garage.  That thing smelled of sex and old print.  It was something my brother and I stole looks into when we were pre-teens.  I don’t even remember how we found it, or why we even opened it.  We just did.  And that was the beginning of my porn addiction.  You see, all that fear and anger built up.  It was reinforced by my timidity making it impossible for me to talk to girls.  My mom was always on my hide about my weight.  I would wear my heavy jacket all the way until April in the desert heat.  I always thought I was fat.  I looked at photos of when I was younger, I was a rail.  There was no reason for me to think that.

               I don’t really blame my mom.  She was just trying to make sure we didn’t get diabetes, since she had it when she turned twenty or so.  We always drank diet soda, which was unpopular with my friends.  I always thought diet soda tasted okay until my later years.  I grew up watching my mom inject herself with insulin every morning at breakfast.  She would break the needles on the syringes after using them.  We would make them into squirt guns.  Weird huh?  This was normal.

               But back to the porn.  It was exhilarating.  I got hooked quickly.  It was like a part of me that was starving, was finally fed.  Where I felt like no girl could like me, these women bore themselves to me willingly.  I felt desire, passion, and a buzz.  All of it bound together strongly the need and the habit.  It didn’t help that Lake Havasu is full of sexuality, blatant and in your face.  It’s okay to be like that, because everyone seems to be.  To fit in, especially to the world my mom and Randy embraced.  They would bar hop on the weekends.  We got paid to watch ourselves, what kid wouldn’t want to earn money that easily?  They would get us video games and movies to watch.  That was my young adulthood.  Oh, and Randy did teach me some things.  He taught me how to gamble.  We played 21 with pennies, nickels, and dimes. 

               I don’t really understand why I was allowed to follow this path and make these choices that started so many bad habits.  But God chose me to be this way, and to fight the good fight.  Thank God for my wife, for she helped me back on the path that I was aimed away from.  He puts people in your life, if you only just listen to them.  I am ashamed of my sin, as we all should be, but we should not let that sin and shame make us feel we are unworthy.  We will always fall, but we can choose to pick ourselves back up.  Fight the good fight.  Redeem ourselves!

More in this Series: 
Part One
Part Two

Sample Related Posts:
Can I fight the good fight?
Is resisting temptation even possible?
How does wearing scarlet guard against fear?
Is there a how-to guide on choosing good?
Why should I forgive? 

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