Pornography and how it has ruined me.

I can easily say I hate it. I consider some images in which people are clothed to be pornography. My experience with pornography has poisoned me and tainted my thinking. I am no longer as accepting as I once was. It is like a snake that has bitten me and has left a poisonous venom to run through my veins and cause my very being to be poisoned. I feel that people do not understand my extreme feelings concerning porn. I get very angry at the images and at John. When I see something that reminds me of porn I remember how I felt at the moment I discovered he was a porn addict. All the feelings come rushing back as if the moment were happening all over. I almost feel as ill as I did that day. The only difference being that I stop short of actually vomiting. On most days I can forgive him for the past and be proud that he has been over 2 years in recovery, but then on other days... It is like I don't care that he has worked at his recovery so hard. I see something and I know it is the almost innocent thing that gently lures and convinces people that taking a look isn't so bad. Then before long, if they are the right kind of person, they are addicted. And those things remind me of the pain porn has brought to me. There once was a time when I wasn't bothered by porn. I didn't really think it was a big deal. I would have even participated in it at one time in my life. I was a real slut. I had no respect for myself and my self esteem was low. I searched for acceptance through sex. Then I dug myself out of that and I met a man that I fell so deeply in love with. I began to feel beautiful when he looked at me. I began to like myself. Then one day I discovered that my husband was sneaking to look at porn. Not a little porn here and there. He was spending hours upon hours looking at porn. I never understood why absolutely nothing got done around the house when I wasn't home. It was because the minute I left John was running to his addiction and getting lost in it until he heard my car pull into the driveway. In the moment I discovered it I felt crushed. I felt ill. I felt fat, old, ugly, disgusting. I felt that when he made love to me I was no more than a sex toy for his fantasies. I struggled to get through every day. I hated myself. I hated him and I wanted to die. There are days I still fight this feeling. I do fight though and I fight hard. I hate myself for the days when I, myself, was guilty of similar things. For a while I hated men. I really had to tell myself that men aren't all bad. (and they aren't) Actually, if it weren't for one particular man with a dear heart and a worn out ear I don't know where I would be. He has listened to a lot of very hard to hear stuff. He has picked me up when I was so low I could hardly move. He has reminded me of how much I really do love my husband. He has reminded me of how much my husband really loves me and how hard he tries. He has been a dear friend to me. Tony, thank you. You can never know how much you have helped me and I know it has not always been easy on you. I know the way I think is distorted. I just can't help that it is right now. I have gone to support meetings, but I always came away from them feeling so much worse than before I would go. They made me feel hopeless. And because of our health coverage issues counseling was out of the question. So, I bent Tony's poor ear. I know I need some counseling and I will get some but for today I feel crappy. I feel like withdrawing from the world today and locking myself away. Most everyone out there sees me as a freak. The way this has affected me has made me a freak. It's hard being a freak. I guess for now I am just stuck with it.