I was born in 1987 and am now 27 years old, raised in a southern coastal city. I grew up during China’s era of reform and opening-up, witnessing the transition from a time when TVs were rare to one where smartphones like the iPhone became ubiquitous. While technological progress brought material comforts, my life took a darker path.

Like many struggling with addiction, I’ve harbored compulsive sexual urges since childhood—almost innate. After outgrowing toddler pants, these urges began festering. By age 9 (1996), I’d already started fixating on women’s bodies. One vivid memory haunts me: in a crowded market, I squeezed a woman’s buttocks from behind. When she screamed, I scurried away, our eyes briefly locking. Though young, I knew it was wrong. To that stranger, I offer a belated apology here. This twisted mindset defined my youth. (pron/pronsex/pronhub/prone bone​/giantess pron​/91 pron/giantess pron​) Throughout elementary school, I fantasized about female teachers and touched myself upon waking. At 15 (2002), during middle school, I discovered masturbation. That first orgasm, both startling and pleasurable, hooked me instantly. I spiraled into daily sessions—sometimes multiple times a day—neglecting studies until I dropped out. Supported by my mother’s small business income, I idled away days gaming in internet cafes, watching porn, and masturbating even after exhausting semen, chasing dry “gas-like” releases. This self-destructive cycle—all-nighters, chain-smoking, and compulsive masturbation—continued for seven years. My body withered: stunted at 160cm, yellowed skin, rotting molars, and the energy of a ghost.

A wake-up call came at 22 (2009) after catching my girlfriend cheating. In the ensuing brawl, my weakened body collapsed within minutes—chest heaving, lips cracking, near-fainting. Terrified, I crawled away while others fought. Quitting smoking soon after was surprisingly easy, but I ignored the root issue: masturbation. Instead, I drowned sorrows in food, ballooning to 159 pounds with worsening urinary symptoms from chronic prostatitis.

A fleeting success came at 24 (2011) when I opened five thriving bakeries and bought a car. But wealth amplified my vices: I chased women relentlessly—through WeChat, bars, even Dongguan brothels. Arrogance blinded me to business mismanagement. By 2012, shops closed, debts piled up, and my car was repossessed. A rebound relationship crumbled within months, leaving me sobbing on a rooftop, grasping the truth of “what goes around, comes around.”

Rock bottom arrived with failing health: obesity, erectile dysfunction, hair loss, and pre-diabetic thirst. Desperate online research finally revealed the culprit—11 years of masturbation had poisoned my body and life. The realization hit like lightning: every consequence—career crashes, ruined relationships, physical decay—stemmed from this addiction.

Now, I share this raw account hoping others escape this hell. My story isn’t unique, but its lessons are universal: compulsive behavior chains you to suffering, while self-awareness offers the only key to freedom.

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