Procrasturbation and Using Pleasure as a Delay Tactic

It started innocently enough during the pandemic. Alone in my tiny apartment, with endless hours of solitude stretching ahead, I found myself caught in a strange cycle of stress and escape. Like everyone else, I was trying to cope with the world turned upside down. ‘Procrasturbation’—the mix of procrastinating with masturbating—quickly became a way to ease my growing anxiety.

What started as an occasional distraction morphed into a near-daily habit. Now, years later, even though the world feels much more normal, I find myself still leaning on it when stress creeps in.

Procrasturbation: An Unexpected Coping Mechanism

The first time it happened, I was sitting at my desk, staring at an unfinished work project that felt impossible to even start. My chest was tight with anxiety, and nothing I did could shake the sense of overwhelm. I needed relief—something to snap me out of the mental spiral. Before I knew it, I’d stepped away from my laptop, retreated to my bed, and let myself get distracted by the brief mental reprieve that masturbation offers. It wasn’t planned, but it worked. The tension melted away, and for a brief moment, I felt okay.

As the days turned into weeks of isolation, procrasturbation became my secret stress reliever. Any time a task felt too daunting, or I couldn’t shake the loneliness of isolating for weeks on end in my apartment, I turned to it. The instant dopamine rush brought a much-needed break from the chaos of my thoughts. But over time, I started to notice a pattern; it wasn’t just the big, overwhelming moments that triggered it. Even small tasks—answering emails or cleaning the kitchen—felt like enough of a reason to indulge.

The Comfort of Control in a Chaotic World

In hindsight, I think procrasturbation became such a lifeline because it was one of the few things I could control during a time when everything else felt completely out of my hands. The pandemic took away so much—our routines, our social lives, our sense of safety—and left me grappling with uncertainty at every turn. Masturbating was private, reliable, and comforting in a way that few things were back then.

I also realized it wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about reclaiming a moment for myself, away from the constant demands of work-from-home life and the guilt of feeling unproductive. When I procrasturbated, I could shut out the world, even if only for a few minutes. It became a ritual of sorts, a way to mark the time in days that otherwise blurred together.

Even now, with life moving forward and isolation no longer a daily reality, the habit remains to some degree. I’ve found myself turning to it in moments of extreme stress, when a big deadline looms or when I’m really struggling to focus. It’s as if my brain has hardwired the connection between anxiety and this quick release.

The Double-Edged Sword of Procrasturbation

While procrasturbation helped me survive those early pandemic days, it’s not without its downsides. There’s a moment of bliss after the act, after the orgasm—a calmness that makes everything feel manageable. But then comes the crash. Instead of feeling accomplished or relieved, I’d often find myself riddled with guilt. The task I’d avoided was still waiting, and now there was the added pressure of time lost.

I noticed how procrasturbation began to interfere with my productivity. What started as a quick ‘break’ to reset my mind would sometimes spiral into long stretches of avoidance. I’d tell myself, just this once, but the habit was hard to break. Even when I was in the office, I’d sneak away to the bathroom for five minutes to take the edge off.

It wasn’t just about time; it also affected how I viewed myself. There’s something vulnerable about admitting that your go-to coping mechanism feels a little...taboo.

The impact didn’t stop there. My intimate relationships were subtly affected, too. During the pandemic, when human contact was scarce, masturbation became my primary outlet for release. Even now though, when I’m with my partner, I sometimes feel a sense of detachment. It’s not that I don’t want to connect with them—it’s that procrasturbation is such a private ritual that it feels separate from my shared intimacy.

Trying to Break the Cycle

Breaking the procrasturbation cycle hasn’t been easy. I’m still figuring it out, but one of the first things I’ve tried is recognizing the triggers. Stress is the biggest one for me—especially when I’m overwhelmed by tasks that feel insurmountable. Instead of immediately retreating to my bedroom, I’ve started experimenting with other ways to relieve the tension. Sometimes it’s as simple as stepping outside for a walk or doing a quick breathing exercise to reset my focus.

I’ve also started being more intentional with my time. During the pandemic, I fell into the habit of letting days bleed together, but now I try to create structure. Setting small, achievable goals for my day has helped me feel less overwhelmed, reducing the urge to procrasturbate as a way of escaping.

Finally, I’ve started to reframe how I think about procrasturbation. Instead of seeing it as something shameful, I remind myself that it’s just one way my body and mind try to cope. It’s not inherently bad—it’s just not always the best solution. Giving myself grace in this process has made it easier to address the habit without feeling like I’ve failed.

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Procrasturbation is such an interesting habit, one that speaks to the way we seek comfort and control in times of stress. For me, it was born out of the isolation and uncertainty of the pandemic, and while it served a purpose then, it’s not something I want to rely on long-term. Learning to recognize my triggers, explore alternative coping mechanisms, and approach the habit with curiosity rather than judgment has been a powerful step toward breaking the cycle.

If you’ve found yourself procrasturbating, know that you’re not alone. It’s a deeply human response to stress and overwhelm, and there’s no shame in acknowledging it. The key is understanding when it’s serving you and when it’s holding you back—and giving yourself the space to explore healthier ways to manage life’s challenges.