I was a middle-aged porn addict… I’d sneak off to the toilets at work and even watch at home behind my girlfriend’s back
WATCHING porn may seem harmless – but experts say the pleasure surge it triggers in the brain can be addictive.
The number of middle-aged men seeking treatment for an X-rated fixation has soared, with an average of two over-50s a week turning to the UK Addiction Treatment Centre in London for help.
Danny Wolfenstein*, 45, of Watford, was viewing porn over ten times a day. Here, the software developer shares his secret with Georgette Culley.
*Surname has been changed
WHAT began as innocent curiosity quickly morphed into an all-consuming addiction, gnawing at the fabric of my existence like a relentless predator.
It all began when I started to work more from home.
On the days when I wasn’t in the office, I would spend several hours a day on free sites like Fetlife watching kinky lesbian role plays.
I spent every waking hour thinking about porn and when I could next watch it.
When I had to go into the office, I’d watch it in the work toilets on my mobile phone.
If my girlfriend was at home, I’d secretly watch it behind her back.
I’d tell her I was going for a shower, but I’d just turn the water on and sit in the corner of the room getting my next fix.
I felt bad about lying to my girlfriend.
But how could I tell her the truth? It would crush her.
She would think she wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t do that to her.
If truth be told, we had a very healthy sex life before my addiction started.
We’d have sex most days and I had no complaints.
But pornography became my drug of choice — a toxic refuge from the harsh realities of life.
At first, I enjoyed the thrill, but soon I was spiralling down a rabbit hole of perversion and excess.
My three-year relationship started to crumble beneath the weight of my addiction.
The intimate connection I once shared with my partner withered away when real sex became boring.
Insatiable obsession
She always suspected my porn addiction, but didn’t know the full extent of it until we broke up.
Sometimes she’d see the websites I’d accessed in my Google search history, but I always played it down.
My porn habit had warped my mind and I couldn’t get excited by trying new positions or locations. It wasn’t enough.
Eventually it took its toll on our relationship and we broke up in late 2022.
In the aftermath of our split, my days blurred together in a haze of arousal and self- loathing.
My insatiable obsession seeped into every corner of my life and I started to miss work deadlines.
My boss didn’t know what was wrong with me and I was too ashamed to tell him.
Colleagues flashed each other pity-laden glances every time I went to the loos to secretly watch it.
I spent so long in the bogs they thought I had some sort of embarrassing bowel condition, but the truth was far worse.
Physically, the toll was undeniable.
Sleepless nights spent in the clutches of addiction left me a mere shell of my former self.
Dark circles appeared beneath my eyes, a constant reminder of the hours I’d squandered in pursuit of fleeting pleasure.
Neglecting my health and wellbeing, I stumbled through life in a perpetual state of exhaustion.
But even as I teetered on the brink of oblivion, the allure of escapism proved too powerful to resist.
People think porn is harmless fun, but for some it can become highly addictive.
But unlike other addictions, it’s not taken as seriously.
If your weakness is alcohol, smoking or drugs, people take you more seriously, but I felt totally alone and broken.
It wasn’t until I hit rock bottom in autumn 2023 that I finally acknowledged I needed help.
Almost free
I couldn’t fight this alone any more.
My girlfriend had left me and I was hanging on to my job by a thread.
I finally opened up to a close friend about my secret demons.
I thought she’d laugh in my face, but she was incredibly sympathetic.
She helped me find Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous and, desperate to heal, I contacted them for therapy.
Their programme is similar to 12 steps for Alcoholics Anonymous.
Recovery is a slow and agonising process, fraught with setbacks and relapses.
But with each passing day, I reclaim a fragment of my former self.
Although the scars of addiction might never fully heal, I am slowly emerging from the darkness with a newfound sense of resilience.
I’m no longer a slave to my impulses and every day I get stronger.
Now, after nine months in therapy, I am almost free.
Of course, there are moments of weakness when I am tempted to surrender to the flickering screen in the dead of night, but I haven’t yet.
I’m determined to win this 7 war within — once and for all.
