Last night, I was looking at porn

I can't remember what, or why; I can't remember enough to subject the experience to any kind of useful analysis.

I do remember that part of me was battling the will to act out. I remember wondering if the fact that I had looked was ok, as long as I didn't then masturbate - a pretty wierd reversal of my former opinion, thanks to the Inner Addict...

And I remember the enormous sense of relief when I woke up and realised it was just one of those annoying porn-dreams, an irritating hangover caused by the withdrawal.

I kind of wish I remember it a bit more vividly, in case there was some handy hint my subconscious was trying to give me, but I take that feeling of relief instead; to have lost the last eighteen days when I'm feeling this good about quitting would have been the trigger to an enormous spiral, I suspect...