The ocean slaps against the bottom of your vessel. The blue green water beckons you to swim. It looks enticing; cool, especially on this hot summer day. You look around. No one on the ship will know you’re gone. A quick jump in the water, maybe a few underwater excursions, and you’ll be back on the ship in no time. Almost every ship passenger does it. In fact, diving off a ship is practically commonplace. There have been a few rumblings about possible dangers — getting left behind, or hitting the water too hard — but not enough to provide more safety nets for the crew.
Without another moment’s thought, perhaps even compulsively, you dive into the water headfirst. What fun! You splash around the water, allowing the liquid to cool you off. A quick dive underwater allows you to see things you’ve never seen before. So you do it again, and again. Each time you rise up out of the water you notice the ship moving farther and farther away.
After one last dive, during which you dove deeper than ever before, you find yourself getting tired struggling to reach the surface. The deeper you go, the darker the world becomes until all you can see is blackness. Your lungs grow tired, depleting your ability to hold your breath. Pain follows …
With one last desperate kick, you push yourself to the surface and see several crewmembers, including the captain, looking at you from the bow of the ship. They do nothing to help your situation; though you see them add security precautions so that others don’t follow your actions. You are left alone. Adrift in the sea with no help, and little more than slight council from passing ships, all of who proclaim, “You shouldn’t have fallen in.”
Why don’t they help me, you ask. How was I supposed to know how dangerous my actions were? What can I do to survive?
Unfortunately, the above story reflects the minds of those poor souls currently addicted to pornography. The helplessness one feels when trapped in the bonds created by this addiction mirror being stranded at sea, surrounded by lifeboats, none of whom it seems are keen to help you with your problem. Instead, an addict continually hears how pornography should be avoided at all costs.
What does one who has already become addicted to pornography do? Who do they talk to? Where do they go?
It’s for this reason that “Mending the Armor” and “Star Guides” was created by “Therapy Associates” — to help those souls already adrift, or weighed down by their addiction — not just pornography, but video games, technology, cell phones, internet, etc. — find a path back to dry land.
This does not negate what religious and civil leaders say about pornography. In fact, porn addiction is a disease. Those who have yet to partake of explicit material are best to steer clear, especially in this day and age where filth corrupts the world around us like a growing virus.
Yet, many often overlook the problem at hand: pornography is not simply a growing epidemic. In point of fact, it’s been a problem for quite a while. Rather than brush the problem away as though it were pesky fly, we need to promote treating this addiction for what it really is: a life-sucking disease that requires love, support and professional help to overcome.
At “Therapy Associates,” our aim is to help those trapped in an addictive cycle break free from their present path and find happiness down a new road. We are the ship that, rather than ignorantly demining you for your actions, floats out to give you a hand. We’ll pull you into our ship, sail you to safety and then do our best to keep you from making the same irrational decisions.
We’re here to help.