As quoted in my last post, recent research suggests that indulging in cybersex makes you depressed.

“BitchBuzz” founder and self-described sex expert Cate Sevilla rejects the implications of the study:

“I think that there are a lot of men out there that look at and watch porn online that are perfectly healthy - it’s just a part of their sexuality.”

Cate accepts that problems arise for those who are “depressed and have problems with sex addiction, where the Internet becomes their playground.”

“They use it as a way to unwind, to destress, and many of them may not even realize that they have a problem.”

“Using sex or masturbating as a way to destress isn’t unhealthy - it’s when it becomes your only way and you’re a bit obsessive about it that’s the problem.”

Cate reminds us that despite the startling statistics, it’s important to keep the issue of porn addiction in perspective. This is a valid point.

However, I’m not so sure that the Australian study attempted to prove that all men who look at porn inevitably suffer. It did highlight that the connection between an obsessive porn habit and depression should not be underestimated.

Does trawling for online porn lead to depression, or does depression drive us to the stuff? It’s a chicken and egg question, and it seems that both could be true.

Guys who seek out online sex have “alarmingly high” rates of depression, anxiety and stress, according to recent research.

Surveying 1325 American and Australian porn and cybersex users, the study revealed:

• 27% were moderate to severely depressed on the standard depression scales
• 30% had high levels of anxiety and 35 per cent were moderately to severely stressed, which is of course extremely high
• They spend an average of just over 12 hours on the sites each week - mostly chatting, participating in cyber sex with webcams, downloading video and images, or sending erotic emails.
• The more heavily they engaged in online sexual activity, the higher their level of depression and anxiety

Marcus Squirrell, a doctoral student at Swinburne University of Technology in Melbourne, said it was possible that depression levels were high because the men were spending so much time online and not engaging with people socially.

“But there’s also a chance that depressed people are spending time on these sites to help lift their mood or reduce stress.”

I’ve just returned from a few days holiday and this news item caught my attention:

In a world first, the Australian Centre for Addiction Research (ACAR) at the University of Sydney is developing an innovative approach to effectively assist people to manage their depression, anxiety and alcohol consumption by correspondence.

To summarise, participants fill out a questionnaire to assess their symptoms, concerns and level of addiction. They then receive personalised feedback based on their responses, and fortnightly mailings containing advice and tips to help them manage their moods and reduce alcohol consumption. It is generally accepted is that these people are often highly reluctant to seek help for their problems; a major reason for this is because of the stigma attached to the illness.
Professor Sitharthan Thiagarajan, director of the programme, explains:

“The advantage of delivering the treatment by correspondence is that people can be treated in the comfort of their own homes and with relative anonymity.”

Although this treatment programme is targeting alcohol addiction, I’m really looking forward to reading the results. The nature of porn addiction is quite distinct from alcoholism, but the issues of stigma and denial are just as applicable. The link between porn addiction and depression raises similar questions too: whether a compulsive porn habit causes depression and anxiety, or whether it is a soothing mechanism for an already depressed state.

As part of a porn addiction recovery plan, I have no doubts about the benefits of seeking personal treatment from a counsellor or therapist, or engaging in a face-to-face support group. However, I’m acutely aware that because of stigma and embarrassment, many people feel unable to take this step and their long-term recovery is less likely to succeed. This correspondence approach offers both anonymity and personally tailored advice, which could prove to be a highly effective combination.

Right now, I’m in the process of developing some online support programmes for porn addiction recovery. They will eventually be offered on this site, but I have to get the balance right to ensure that they are as beneficial as possible to a wide audience. I’ll certainly be taking the results of this Australian trial into account.