September 24, 2012
I think a brief overview
of how I got here is in order at this point.
What led to this terrible predicament and this devastatingly dangerous
fascination? Allow me to give a
simplified version of the facts.
I've always had a
fascination with, and I can now say an addiction to, pornography in
general. Since I first discovered my
dad's "stash" of Playboy and Penthouse magazines, I was hooked. The extent and nature of my porn consumption
varied greatly with my environment and availability of materials.
I got married
around 1993 and spent about 10 years with my now ex-wife. We never had the most active sex life,
primarily due to her endometriosis, which caused pain with intercourse. She reluctantly tolerated my use of porn,
which eventually became exclusively digital as that technology was obviously
the cheapest and simplest to access.
There was no exposure to, nor interest in, anything under-age or
illegal, until I lived in Japan, where I developed a bit of a fetish for the
"schoolgirl" uniforms and scenarios that are so common there.
My ex-wife and I
eventually had two children, a girl and then a boy, and got divorced a year after
the birth of our son, in 2004. The
divorce was tough on me, and kind of ugly.
I retreated further into a world of internet porn, having little desire
to "make the effort" or to trust living, breathing women. I had a
considerable lack of self-confidence. I
went through all types of "genres" of porn, eventually getting bored
with one after another. Eventually,
searches for "schoolgirl" themed porn returned images of actual
schoolgirls. The ages of these girls range
from 10 to 40. It was new to me, and
admittedly exciting. I downloaded folder
upon folder of free images -- without looking at them first. It was easier and faster to download, then
look at them later. The vast majority of
these images were clothed, or mostly clothed, and were not illegal, though I am
still embarrassed by my lack of restraint.
Occasionally, the images were illegal, and some of the models were very
young. When I found images involving men abusing young
girls, I was repulsed and quit downloading content. But due to stupidity and laziness, I did not
delete these images, and I continued to look at the other content that still
excited me.
Then, about six
years after my divorce, I fell helplessly, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love
with Jessica (not her real name). She
was the sister of my best friend, I had met her several years before we got
together, when she was passing through town visiting her brother. My attraction was immediate then, but the
timing and circumstances were not right.
Later, on a vacation to Central America to visit her with her brother,
she was living on a beautiful tropical island, we hooked up and I fell in love.
I fell hard and
fast, though she was a bit more tentative.
We corresponded regularly after the trip and I visited again a few
months later. It was magical, beautiful,
and intense. We shared our hidden
secrets and tragic flaws.
She had been in
some bad relationships and had been raped as a teen. I revealed my attraction to schoolgirl
fantasies, though I withheld the extent of that interest. I feared losing her. After months of even more intense
communication, she came to Arizona and moved in with me. The fairy tale relationship developed
astronomically fast, we were engaged and she was pregnant in less than two
months. My interest in porn was
gone. I was so in love and so
committed. I deleted all of my child porn
before she moved in, but copies of it all remained on my backup drive. (I've already admitted to my idiocy!)
As the pregnancy
advanced, her libido decreased and I started looking at porn again (legal
only!). There was a little episode where
she was upset about this, but acknowledged her lack of interest in sex and
agreed that this was a viable alternative.
She asked to use my
backup drive for some of her stuff, and I realized I had to wipe it clean. I was looking through my drive that the
images I needed to delete and I thought I had begun the process. Apparently I hadn't, and Jess stumbled upon
them. Needless to say, it wasn't
pretty. She wouldn't speak to me and she
left the next morning on a trip with a friend.
She took the computer and the hard drive with her. I haven't seen her since.
I tried to explain,
I sent emails, I tried to call, I wrote letters (once I found out where she
was), but she would not talk to me. She
had promised, once, that we would always communicate our problems. She lied.
A few weeks later I was contacted by the police regarding "an
incident". I got a lawyer,
completely flabbergasted that she had gone to the police.
Two months later, after
my home was searched and a warrant issued, I turned myself in, spent a few days
in jail, and was released on bail.
Jessica and I resumed communication for the months I was out on
bail. She circumnavigated my big
questions, but admitted hope that I would have a place in our child's
life. She promised answers to my
questions "when this was all over".
I still don't know what that means.
She had turned over the computer, the drive, as well as all my
communications to her, which included admission, explanations , and apologies, asking
to hear me out.
I signed a plea
agreement, expecting the minimum five years and a term of probation. I got 7 1/2 years and life probation. I will likely have to serve 85% of it. In Arizona, most felons serve 65% of
sentences, but sex offenders serve 85%.
All other felons can move " up" to minimum security yards with
more freedom. Not so for sex
offenders. All others can pay their dues
and get on with life without lingering restrictions. Not so with us.
I do not intend to
trivialize or minimize my mistakes, but I also believe that "system"
is neither just, nor organized to assist in rehabilitation. That being said, I have and continue to
attempt to better myself mentally, spiritually, and physically while I pass
this time. I've become more involved in
Buddhist study, though I do not exclude any ideas that help in my
development. I'm taking on the 12 steps
of addiction as a framework for healing and understanding my actions. I practice yoga, meditation, I work out, and
I read and write voraciously.
There are still
many unanswered questions in my mind, the majority dealing with Jess and how
and why she did what she did. I realize
how upset, confused, and scared she must've been, but I naively thought that
part of love was working through problems.
It seems there were better ways to deal with the situation, and
communication should have played a role.
I feel very betrayed, and so very sorry I hurt her, though it was never
about or against her.
I have hurt and
upset so many people, and most of all my beautiful kids who I was, and
continued to attempt to be, so very close to.
I'm so sad when I think of my new baby boy, who I write to
regularly. I haven't heard a word from
Jess since I left county jail for state prison almost a year ago.
