I was at rock bottom watching six hours of porn every day – my wife rescued me after discovering sordid messages

A 34-year-old man has described how a porn addiction left him at the “bottom of a pit” before his wife discovered his secret.

The man said he’d watch porn for several hours a day to “escape reality” until he reached “the bottom of the pit” – and he had no idea how to get out.

GettyPorn addiction appears to be a growing problem (stock image)[/caption]

Ian – not his real name on the basis of anonymity – described the triggers that further cemented his addiction.

The married man from East Midlands eventually came clean and had treatment which helped him identify what drove him to use porn to excess.

It comes after experts told Sun Health they believe the numbers of Brits with the problem is escalating, with similar issues being seen worldwide.

Paracelsus Recovery, which runs clinics in London and Zurich, claims to have seen a 150 per cent increase in patients treated for porn addiction between 2019 and 2023.

Online searches for “porn addiction” surpass searches for alcohol addiction by nearly two and a half times, warned Martin Preston, founder of rehab clinic Delamere.

Amidst the growing problem, Ian spoke exclusively to The Sun to raise awareness of the addiction and what it really feels like to live with it.

‘How I hit rock bottom with porn addiction’

It was in my late 20s when the actor Terry Crews spoke publicly about his porn addiction, and a year or so later, the comedian Chris Rock spoke about it in a stand-up special.

It wasn’t until I heard other people say it and talk about it, that I started to question my relationship with it – but I wasn’t prepared to address it.

When I reached 30, at the end of 2018, things took a turn for the worse. I realised that I was half the age of my dad when he died.

This realisation, coupled with work stress, made me start to use porn more.

Before then, it was half an hour here or there. But I began binge-watching it on days off or when I was working remotely.

Then, the Covid pandemic hit and I was furloughed.

I had no direction, responsibility or commitment. It was like the go-ahead from the Government to do whatever. 

It started to bleed out outside of pornography to the point where I was interacting and talking to other women online. I guess the pornography just wasn’t really working anymore. 

It was sexting, exchanging photos and videos, sometimes phonecalls and voice notes.

I was watching porn while talking to them, for several hours a day.

I could be talking to someone and watching porn form 10am until 3pm, or until my wife would finish work and come home.

It was cheating through virtual means. 

I wasn’t continuously masturbating, but trying to prolong orgasm as long as possible so that dopamine high is maintained.

I guess, comparing it to other addictions, it’s like going from being a binge drinker to someone who drinks all day, to maintain drunkenness. 

It was escapism from reality more than sexual gratification – but obviously, there was an element of that. And it was video games too. 

Coupled together, it was just a complete and utter disconnection from reality.

I never paid for anything – this was pre OnlyFans. Before that, there were forums for people who were, I guess, dealing with the same issue.

When I was younger I had tried out a paid webcam service but as soon as I recognised the human behind it, I struggled to have that sexual desire, because the facade and illusion had shattered.

I guess that is why it’s so insidious and nefarious: it is free and so readily available. You don’t need it to have financial consequences for it to be a problem in your life.

Struggle with intimacy

Ultimately, I was seeking intimacy but I didn’t really know how to navigate it or give it to people in my real life.

When talking to these women, I was living in a virtual fantasy of what I believed I wanted to be like. But the reality is, that wasn’t me.

I knew from a teenager I had a fear of intimacy. I always felt I was defective, broken… Like something was fundamentally wrong with me.

Those are sort of feelings I’ve had about myself for as long as I remember.

When I was around six years old, I hung out with a boy a little older than me. He would put me in situations that I didn’t feel comfortable in.

It culminated in my dad finding me naked with him. I remember the vivid memory of him just turning around and walking away. It was something that was never discussed. 

I just remember the feeling of shame, thinking that I’d done something bad, even though I was led into it by someone else. 

That stifled my intimacy and my sexual expression. I didn’t really connect with that side of me.

Another time, when I was three years old, my grandma discovered the same child sat on my chest, strangling me.

Even when I was watching porn, it fuelled a shame that I had around my sexuality through circumstances that happened in my childhood.

Through my teenage years, I didn’t see my use of porn as anything other than normal and what others were doing.

Porn wasn’t my first or only addiction. It was a bit like spinning plates – once one thing started to wobble, I’d turn to the next, whether it be binging on food, alcohol or smoking weed.

Desperate to be found

But it was porn and sexual addiction that it evolved into, that was the one that had the negative consequences.

I was in denial, in terms of my belief that I needed help. It was always something I believed I could manage.

I had moments of clarity when I’d delete everything – the apps, the second email accounts – and quit cold turkey, only to return to it weeks later. 

After six months of it worsening, I felt completely at my wit’s end, I had no hope or idea of where to go from here.

I felt like I was at the bottom of the pit and couldn’t figure out how to get out. I didn’t even attempt to get out of it, I just wallowed in it.

I didn’t like who I had become. I chose complete isolation and neglect.

It culminated in my wife finding out by seeing text messages on my phone when she picked it up.

I wasn’t necessarily hiding it. I think maybe it was somewhat intentional, subliminally. I wanted her to find it so that I could confront it, but I didn’t know how to do that myself.

We talked about everything. I just said that I needed help.

I laid it all out to my sister and mum, too. Coming clean was the first stage of acceptance.

I was fortunate I was furloughed at the time because it afforded me the luxury of time to draw a line in the sand.

I had e treatment for six weeks at Delamere in June 2020. I didn’t have my mobile phone. I didn’t have the stresses of work or family. I found is very freeing.

I had group therapy, one-on-one, arts and crafts sessions, reading and meditation.

It’s about finding that connection with your inner self and accepting who you are.

Addiction is a scale. I think that within all human beings, it’s there because it’s ultimately a survival mechanism. It’s a trauma response. 

The solution is always the same – grounding yourself, connecting with yourself, accepting who you are and loving yourself.

When I came out of treatment I knew who I was, but I was not ashamed. 

My marriage is not perfect, because ultimately, it takes time to identify and deal with these things.

But I would say that our communication and trust is significantly better. I don’t hide any part of myself anymore.

I’ve definitely had situations where I’ve watched pornography. But it’s just an acceptance of, ‘that happened’, rather than it being a complete derailing of the journey.