What I Fear Part II

I deeply fear exposure. My family's about to find out about this, but I don't mean that level of exposure. I mean, sure, I am afraid of how it will change the family dynamic, but I'm fairly optimistic about it all. I have finally come to the point that I love myself just enough to overcome my fear of my family finding out.

Allow me to take a detour here. I'm actually very excited about my family finding out! I mean, I have Net Nanny on my phone. Every time a family member takes my phone just to check it out, as family members do, I freak out a little bit that they'll see that little N and instantly know I have Net Nanny and instantly know it's to protect me from accessing porn on my phone. I went to an APR Speaker's Meeting in November, and I preformed a song that I wrote. I was excited about it and mentioned on Facebook that I sang the song I wrote at a fireside. My mom asked me, in person, what fireside. What? What fireside? Who cares? I was terrified and I didn't even tell her, which made for an awkward few minutes. Well, now I can say, "oh, it was a Speaker's Meeting," and I can invite her to the next one! Very honestly, it's going to be a bit of a relief knowing that my family knows, not having to keep so many secrets.

Even so, it's still scary! I'm mostly afraid that they just won't get it. I'm the black sheep already. I drink caffeinated drinks, and I have pierced ears, and I have done a lot of "bad" stuff that no one else in my family has done. This is just going to add (exponentially) to that things-you've-never-done list. Of course, what do I know? Maybe I'm not as alone as I imagine myself to be.

Returning to my fear of exposure- I fear, deeply fear, exposing myself to . . . myself. Part of why I keep a hold of this addiction is to hide from my own self. It hides the little issues I don't want to see. It hides my past. It hides everything. Everything. Everything that I do, at this point, is about this addiction! I have allowed my addiction to be my primary self-definition. I have allowed this addiction to become who I am. I don't know who I am without it.

Now, I already know the addicted me. I'm not happy with my addiction, but I'm comfortable in it. The picture of me being free of addiction doesn't make sense. Oh, how I want it to make sense! But it doesn't. It's like that square peg in a round hole... it just doesn't seem like it can possibly ever work, or ever make sense. I don't know who I am without this addiction!

And maybe that's crazy talk anyway. Maybe the phrase "once an addict, always an addict" is a true statement. Maybe, in some respects, I will always carry this addiction with me. Maybe I can make it to a constant state of remission! Maybe Jesus can heal me enough so I'll be always in remission, in recovery, in redemption. But maybe I will always have something of an addiction with me.

And that's terrifying, too. Why work so hard if it's always going to be that easy to throw it all away?

But that lie is easy to send away. I know why I should work so hard, and I know that I will. However, exposing myself to myself-- that still scares me.

But. I'm just going to do it. I am who I am, whether I like it or not. Discovering myself sans addiction is going to be a scary process, but I'm going to do it anyway. I'm going to destroy the excuse that I can't let go of my addiction because I'm scared of what's hiding beneath it. That excuse just won't cut it anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll like what I find out.



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Lately, I haven't really been communicating with my bishop. We have this thing where I'm supposed to shake his hand every Sunday and give a quick, subtle recap of how I've been doing. We used to meet every other Sunday in his office. But then I was doing so well that he suggested the weekly handshake thing. I'm not doing as well anymore and I think I would benefit more from seeing him biweekly again, but how dumb will that sound? Hey, bishop, can I just take 15 minutes of your time every other week to talk about me? Yeah. Like I'm the most important member of the ward.

Oh well. I'm going to make an appointment for next week and ask him anyway, ask him if I can meet with him biweekly again. I need to pull out all the stops here.

Today, I went to shake his hand, and he asked me how I was doing. I said, kinda glumly, "Well, I've been okay for two whole weeks." In my head I was thinking, "wow, big deal, two weeks. Two weeks is lame. Two weeks is nothing. Two weeks is embarrassing." But he smiled big and said, enthusiastically, "Great! That's really good! Just keep it up!" and that kinda made my day.

Still Here!

The facilitator at the PASG meetings I attend usually says "My name is _______ and I'm a recovering sex addict and I'm still here." There's something about it that I like.

Well, I wrote the email to my family. I re-read it the next day and I think it's okay as far as these kinds of emails go. But I can't send it. I need to. I must. And I will. I think I'll wait till after our New Year's Eve celebration.

Once my family knows, I'll almost have no need for anonymity. My name is not Erin. But, I actually feel like remaining anonymous protects my children, and so I will still remain anonymous, publicly.

I've been thinking all day about what I'll write today and I still haven't come up with anything brilliant. I'm simply still here. I don't feel like I'm white knuckling anymore, but I do feel nervous, and I do feel fragile. I don't feel humble.

Humility is a key to recovery. How does anyone maintain humility? Humility is so fleeting. I know that gratitude is closely linked to humility so I do try to maintain gratitude. I try to, at all times, acknowledge the Hand which blesses me constantly. I have everything I need and I know where it comes from. But I still don't feel very humble. I feel out of touch.

But, I'm trying. Tomorrow's another day to get closer to the Savior, and further from the trap of addiction.

I have a clock in my bedroom that's broken. I hung it up on my wall anyway, thinking this clock will remind me that now is the time to choose. And, every time I look at it, I think, Now is the time to choose. And I make a choice for that moment.

That's it for now. Tomorrow maybe I'll be more eloquent. Tomorrow is the Sabbath! A day of miracles!

Looking Back

I've been reading my old posts because I'm thinking of telling my family about this blog, and I wanted to read the posts through their eyes.

I have decided to leave almost everything, unedited. Each post is an honest representation of my feelings at the moment. I'm not going to hide. What's the point of hiding at this point?

Anyway, I did notice that, for the most part, this here blog is pretty depressing! It's dark and sad. I didn't have readers for years. I had one or two here and there, but if I had 15 page views in any given month, that was a lot. This was more of a journal for me. I knew my readers were few, and I used that knowledge as a reason to write whatever I wanted. Someone recently commented that my blog was so open and honest. I don't know about honest, but it has been very open, and that's only because I figured it would forever be a blog in a tiny, obscure corner of cyber space, and I felt protected by both anonymity and obscurity.

Since I felt that almost no one was reading, I didn't write about many of the good things that have come into my life. I haven't written many of the miracles I've seen. Mostly, I wrote when I needed to vent, or work things out. And that's okay, but I wish I'd written the happy stuff, too.

I recognize that even with the few readers I have now, this blog still takes up a tiny, obscure corner in cyber space. But I feel more exposed. It's good for me. I feel more accountable. I'm going to write things of a more positive nature. I'll probably still be pretty negative, too, but I'm hopeful that as I progress and learn, I'll simply have more positive things to share.

I'm going to write a post a day for 30 days, beginning today. That's a lot of accountability! If I'm thinking, every day, that "today I'm going to write a post," I'm definitely not going to want to bring you a bad report. I think it will be good for me, and help me stay focused. That's my hope, anyway! If I have work, I'll begin each post at around 8:15 each night, after the kids are safely in bed, and before the night temptations usually scream at me. If I'm not working, the posts may be earlier.



Also, looking back, I can see progress. It's so slow! But it's there. I'm a little more realistic with recovery. I have learned a lot. I'm doing alright.

White Knuckling

It's only been 13 days since last I slipped. Two weeks is sometimes my limit. I mean, if I've been strong enough to last two weeks, it's usually at this time I slip again. Two weeks. It's not that long, but those two weeks of abstinence are extremely difficult. It usually gets a little easier once I make it past the 2-week barrier. So I have that to look forward to. Because I'm making it through this barrier this time if it kills me.

It kind of seems like it will kill me. But I know better. I'll make it through, and then, if my cycle proves true to form, I will have a short break, wherein the temptations will seem weaker and fewer. I can fortify my strongholds during this time and make preparations for the ambush that will likely occur at 3 weeks, and then again at 4 weeks. That will be the nigh on impossible one. I'll maybe be white-knuckling through that one like I am now.

Whenever I look in my mental mirror, I see myself gripping to tube things, gripping them as hard as I can, and my knuckles are white, and my face is in a horrible grimace, and I'm sweating cartoon drops of sweat, and I'm grr-ing. And sometimes I have to remind the real-life me to breathe.

Do you ever have an itch (literal) that you try to make yourself not scratch, just to see how long you can make it? I tried that today, while I was seeing myself white knuckling. I had this itch and I thought about not scratching it. Then another itch begged my immediate attention somewhere else. I concentrated very hard on not scratching either of them. But then an itch appeared on my leg. Then my ear, then my forehead. In a matter of moments, my entire body was itching! It was awful! My original itch was still there. None of them, in fact, had disappeared by ignoring them. They were getting stronger.

The thought came to me that instead of focusing on not scratching, I should do something else entirely. So I got up and moved, but in doing so, made sure to scratch every itch on the way. Ah, sweet relief! But I failed. Thankfully, scratching itches is not sinful.

But, I wonder if I'm focusing too much on not looking at porn, on not masturbating. Perhaps it's time to change my focus. Like that line in the ARP manual: focus on the solution rather than the problem. I think I do that, but I need to do it better. The problem grows if I focus on it, like my itches expanded when I focused on them.

Things have happened today that make my favorite sins appear even more attractive. I am heavily discouraged today. Discouragement is the fine garnishment on temptation that makes it shiny. I am so overwhelmed today. Being overwhelmed is the sugar on top of the temptation that makes it appear so tasty. I am fighting through negative thoughts "I am not a good mom, I am not a good provider, I am not trying hard enough, I am not enough..." I'm trying to change them because I know they are pointless. Whether or not they're accurate doesn't even matter, really. I mean, so what if I'm not a good mom? Does that give me license to sin? Um, no. But that's absurd. I'm not a bad mom, and I know that. I know that my kids are happy, healthy, safe, loved, and learning. Why am I buying into the lie when I know it's not true?

Hey, see what I did there? I just dispelled a lie by giving it a voice. I wrote out the lie, and now I can see that it is a lie. Writing is so cool!

Today, I'm beginning the email to my mom to tell her my biggest secret. As my new friend Dan W. pointed out today, abolishing the secrecy of addiction renders it weak! I can see that. I'm going to tell my mom, and probably the rest of my family. I can certainly use their prayers.

When I send it, my life will be different. I don't know what my family will do or say. I don't know what they'll think. I know they'll still love me and I think they'll encourage me, but I don't know what they will truly think. And that's not my business anyway.

I feel like I'm a newborn in recovery. I've been trying to recover all these years, but I feel like I haven't even learned to sit on my own, yet. I think that telling my family will help me move beyond this infancy stage. Yes, I'll have to mooch off their spiritual health, and lean on them when I'm learning how to walk. But I think they'll be willing to be there for me. That is my hope.

At the very least, knowing my family knows will get me past this horrible white-knuckling stage for now, I should think.

I'm so afraid of changing the family dynamic. I'm so afraid that I'll be seen even more as an attention hog.

Sigh. If I perish, I perish.

To my New Friends

Dear Sidreis (of By The Light of Grace), Dan W, Warrior, (of Battle Log of a Nephite Warrior), Dust (Of the Dust), and everyone else who has been commenting on my posts,

Your support is invaluable. I feel buoyed by you! Thank you for taking the time out to comment on my posts, to read my posts, to pray for me, to send me emails of encouragement. I'm so grateful I found Sidreis's blog several weeks ago. I don't remember how I stumbled on it, but it has yielded blessings in the form of supporters-- you! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for your love and friendship.

Most sincerely,
~Erin

Rock Bottom

What is that, anyway, really?

Over the past 18 months of attending ARP meetings, I have heard several stories of "rock bottoms." They are always dramatic. They are always a huge life event. One man shares his rock bottom story of how one day he woke in a pile of his own vomit over a decade ago when the ambulance arrived. He had his life flash before his eyes, and his family, and he knew he could no longer tarry in his alcoholism lifestyle.

And he's never had a drink since.

That's the part that gets me. The end of the story that every rock bottom seems to have. The "Never used since," "never acted out since," "NEVER DID IT AGAIN." Well, crap, where is my rock bottom? I want a rock bottom so I never do this again. I want a dramatic experience that will whip me into shape. I want Alma's angel. I don't care if I have be "racked with eternal torment . . . with the pains of a damned soul" for three days straight-- as long as it changes my brain enough to surrender my addictions for the rest of my life, that sounds like a heck of a deal!

There are stories of rock bottoms all around me. Some addiction experts say one must experience a rock bottom in order to recover. Well, what if there isn't one?

At one of my meetings, one fellow sex addict said "our rock bottom can be wherever we decide it is."

But that is not the norm of rock bottoms. A rock bottom includes some external event, some situation that the addict has encountered as a consequence of his choices-- not as an actual choice he/she made himself.

But, hold on a minute. Every "rock bottom" scenario ends with a choice. Every time someone "never drinks again" is a result of a choice, and another choice, and a series of daily choices. Rock Bottom isn't a magic button. Rock Bottom is that point in someone's life when they finally choose to walk a new path, when they finally choose to wholly depend on Jesus. What was stopping that alcoholic from continuing his addictive behavior? Nothing but choices! Nothing. Lying in vomit doesn't force one to stop drinking. He could have just as easily-- nay, more easily-- chosen to say "screw it. This is my life now. I'm pathetic and I'm a loser and this is who I am. I can't change."

So, maybe my sex addict friend was right. Maybe "rock bottom" is what/where we decide it is. Maybe it's not the event, but the choices following the event.

Right now, I fear God's wrath. I think that I am at the beginning of a very long and very complicated trial, and I think it's a result of my continued rebellion. I think this could be a rock bottom if I let it. I have refused to turn around on my own until this point, and God is letting the consequences follow. The way things are going, I'm going to have to depend on Him for everything, not just for healing of the mutilation I've done to my spirit with my choices. Suddenly, I may have health issues. Suddenly, I have severe financial issues. Suddenly, my children need special attention. Suddenly, I could lose my house.

Because I wouldn't humble myself, I fear that God is now compelling me to be humble. He's taking my health, my children's happiness, my money, and maybe my home. This is going to all but force me to depend on Him. I see what He's doing. He's angry that He has to do it. I now feel His wrath. I never have before.

But it's a beautiful wrath. I mean, it's so infused with love and hope that it can scarcely be frightening. And on the other hand, I'm so grateful that He thinks so much of me to pull out all the stops to get me back in His arms.

This is not the kind of rock bottom I want. I don't want to lose everything! I want an easy rock bottom. I'd rather recover from my addiction on my own than suffer through this rock bottom that I can see before me!!!

I wonder if it's too late. I wonder if I surrender now, will this path of losing so much continue? Or will miracles come into my life and save my health, my children, and my home?

I'm scared! No, Lord, please don't take away these blessings in my life that I have consciously tried hard to never take for granted! I think of myself as an optimist, but really I'm a fool. I deny the harsh reality of things. I try to make everything okay in my head because that's the best way I can function. If everything's okay, then maybe I'm okay.

But, this is reality! I could really lose my home! And then what? I could really have some serious health issues! And then what? My son might truly need medication so his teachers don't hurt him! And then what? I can't handle all this at once.

This is a crossroads for me. Either I choose to surrender my will and life to God, or I choose to continue serving myself. This is my rock bottom, and it's not a magic button. I have to make a choice. I have to work. I have to surrender. I have to decide if God's way is the best way. If I surrender to God, then the road will be hard. If I surrender to God, He may not spare the consequences of ignoring Him. If I surrender to God, I may still lose what I stand to lose temporally. If I continue my own path, however, I know I will lose what I stand to lose, and more. I will lose myself. I feel like at any time I can turn back to God, but that if I don't completely turn to Him to now, that it will be more difficult to find my way back in the future.

This is real. I want to write a letter to myself and explain that THIS IS REAL! Wake up, Erin! Come out of this stupor, this sleep, this fog of denial, and be real!

Oh, God help me. I can't do this alone. Calling all angels! Maybe it's time to bring in some reinforcements. Maybe it's time to tell my family my struggles, and beg them to pray for me.

fear...anger...guilt?

I'm afraid.

I'm angry.

But I think most of all I am so guilty. How can I recover when I feel so much guilt? How can I rid myself of guilt when I continue to do the things I hate about myself? The guilt is so heavy. It twists my insides and jumbles my brain. I can't feel okay when I have this guilt, but I NEED to feel okay, but I'm AFRAID to feel okay.

My house is a mess, always, and my kids probably think that's normal.
I don't teach them how to work.
I don't teach them service by example.
I don't exercise even though I pay for a gym membership that I certainly can't afford.
I spend too much time on Facebook, so my kids don't get as much time with me.
My kids don't have a good father figure. I chose so poorly.
I have everything I need, yet I give so little.
I'm fat.
I don't read scriptures every day with my kids.
I don't remember to make my kids brush their teeth every day.
I don't magnify my calling.
I think horrible thoughts. Horrible.
I don't walk my dog.
I haven't spayed my cat.
I haven't paid my power bill.
My kids have to dig for clean clothes in the laundry room because I rarely fold them.
I tell people I'm going to do stuff and then I don't do it.

This list is constantly on my brain. It's actually longer, but you've had enough, I'm sure. I can't tell when I'm being sincere. I don't know why I'm sharing this with you. Do I want pity, empathy, validation? I don't think I do but I don't know. I think I'm just sharing what's on my mind. The guilt creates anxiety and the anxiety forms a ball of detracting energy that spins inside my the front of my head just between my eyes. It sucks my eyebrows to it, and I think today I must look like I'm very troubled because whenever I think about it, my eyebrows are all squenched up together. lol.

The anxiety is because I can't change any of this today. The only I see to stop feeling guilty about it all is to stop DOING them all, and I can't change this all right away! I have no one to blame but myself. I'm the only one who can change or fix this. But . . . can I? No. It's too much. It's too impossible. I could take it one by one but I'd still have all this guilt for the other stuff till I got through the list, and by that time, I'd have a brand new list of guilt. And how on earth could I ever decide which issue is the most important one? How would I decide which to tackle first?!

Since I can't change it all, I want to change nothing. That does not make sense.

This guilt is not healthy. This guilt is not propelling me into resolution and change. It is propelling me into pointless anxiety and fear, and depression. It is not inspiring action, but rather discouraging progress. Sometimes a bit of guilt is healthy, but not this guilt. I need to become free of it. I need to forgive myself and be okay with my best efforts, even though those best efforts won't even come close to getting me where I want to be right away. I have to make myself be okay with not being okay.

It seems like I have too much to conquer. But I know that is not true. I know that I am blessed with choices and abilities, and I am blessed with the Atonement to cover where my abilities do not yet reach. As always, the way is Jesus Christ. So, once again, I turn to Him in hope.

What I Fear Part I

I keep saying things like "I don't know what I'm afraid of." But I think I do know what I fear, at least part of it, and I think it's silly, so I haven't given it a voice. I'm about to give it a voice. Here goes:

I have been this girl for my whole life. I have been the one who needs rescued. I need help. I can't do it. I can't keep my house clean-- my bedroom growing up was the same way. I can't stay on task-- it's always been the same story. I can't focus and I forget everything and I make commitments I don't keep. When I make them, I have genuinely good intentions. But I forget, or I panic, and I don't keep them. It's been this way for as long as I can remember. Don't get me wrong; I have plenty of good qualities, too. In fact, let's take a break to go over some of those things as well, just so this doesn't turn into a bash-Erin post:

I'm compassionate
Sometimes I judge people, but as soon as I realize it, I stop
I play hide and seek with my kids
I write pretty songs
I'm intelligent
I'm a deep thinker
I'm creative
I'm dang funny

So there's a few. Returning to the topic, disorganized, scattered and forgetful is how I've been my whole life! I'm predictable. People around me know they have to help me remember my purse/coat/keys. They know I need a hundred reminders for events. They know my house won't be clean if they come over. They know I need help to keep my head on. And they do help me, because they love me. I love that they love me. If I stopped needing them, would they still show me that love? I don't know. I guess they would, but it would be in a different way, and would I recognize it?

Similarly, my Father in Heaven knows I am the way I am. He knows I'll forget the lessons this addiction teaches me. He knows I'll forget I promised to feed the missionaries on Tuesday. He knows I have a hard time committing to anything at all. But, even so, He loves me. Even so, He's there for me, picking me up off the ground and dusting me off, every time I fall. I have been an addict for so long, and needed His constant, willing mercy for so long, that it's how I've come to read His love for me. And I feel it from Him, and my Savior, every time I stand again and turn to Them. They're there, every. Single. Time.

And, Friends, I know it sounds so crazy, but because I love to feel the love of Jesus, and the love of my God, I'm so afraid to lose that by giving up my sins.

Even as I type that, even as I give it a voice, I know it's false. But it's still scary.

When I'm in my bishop's office, confessing my latest slip, all I feel is love.

When I'm on my knees, saying to my Father, "Here I am again. My hands are soiled again. I'm sorry I hurt myself, my children, and my Savior," and when I'm bringing Him my breaking heart, all I feel is love.

This is what I know of God's love! This is almost all I know of God's love, because this is where I've been most my life. I believe His love is beyond this addiction, but I can't I know that's true, like I do know He will always welcome me back in His arms after every fall.

My addiction is how I've come to know Jesus Christ. My addiction is how I have seen the Atonement work in my life. I feel His great love for me every time I turn back to Him after acting out. It is a most beautiful experience and sacred experience, and I hope I am not making light of it. I hope I'm not taking it for granted. I hope it doesn't sound like I'm saying I choose to sin because I want to feel God's love. That's not really it. I choose to repent because I want to feel His love, but I do seem to have it in my head that I won't need to repent as much if I give up this sin-- and then how will I feel His love? This is what I know of God: He is merciful to me and long-suffering with me and eager to forgive me. This is how I know this: Turning back to Him after giving into the flesh.

Do you see? Why is God so good? If He wasn't so kind and patient with me, I know that I would be even less motivated to recover, so I do know that His love is not what's keeping me in this dark, addicted state.

I'm ashamed to say that this fear is real: Out there, out beyond this forest of addiction, where is God's love? How will I find it? Will I feel it the way I do now? Will He show me as frequently as He does now? Will He gather me into the safety of His embrace as He does now?

I think He will, but I don't know. And I don't know if I will recognize it when it comes.

It's a lie, you know- that I can't. I think I can't be organized. I think I can't do things myself. I think I can't stop my favorite sins. I think I can't, and I think that's my excuse-- that I can't. Well, it's all a lie, even though I've been that crazy, scattered person my entire life. It's not who I am; it's a weakness that I can reform.

It's also a lie that I can't feel God's love after I conquer this battle.

I'm asking for your help. Will you tell me when you have felt the sweet, sweet love of God, outside the realm of addiction and recovery? Will you testify to me that He bestows His tender mercies to those who are out of addiction?

**Update**
I just found this on my friend's blog By the Light of Grace. Thanks, Sidreis! It's perfect for my fears of the moment:

The will of God will never take you
Where the love of God cannot enfold you,
Where the mercies of God cannot sustain you,
Where the peace of God cannot calm your fears,
Where the authority of God cannot overrule for you.

Sigh. I guess it's about trust at this point.

All My Addictions

I have several addictions. To name a few:

sex
external validation
Pepsi
Facebook
control (most ironically)
self-loathing
cowardice
RUNNING AWAY

which is what I'm doing now. Right now. Running away. I'm only blogging because I have a ton of work to do. I don't even know where to start. Organization is not one of my talents. I don't think I've ever met anyone less organized than I am, and I'm not exaggerating about that. I can't think of where stuff should go, or in what order my thoughts should be... It's very overwhelming. I never know which important thing I should do first, so I freak out and do something like this, something unimportant (or, rather, something less urgent), and something that keeps me further away from accomplishing the things that I need to accomplish.

Maybe that makes sense to someone, but it makes no sense to me!! I don't know why I'm like that. Why won't I just face it?

It's so hard to un-train yourself. For decades, I have been scattered and unorganized. When I was in grade school, I'd ride my bike to my friend's houses but walk home, because I'd forgotten I rode my bike. Or, I'd walk to their houses with shoes, and walk home without shoes, because I had taken them off sometime and forgot that I had worn them. I'm all over the place, and I have been my whole life. I've always been untidy, unorganized and unusually forgetful. I was diagnosed with ADD just this year, but I don't want that to be an excuse for addiction. I have no idea what to do with that information, though, or if it's even factual. Maybe I'm simply forgetful and unorganized.

At any rate, organization is monumentally difficult for me. And it seems that I must be organized to conquer any of my addictions. If I could somehow acquire organization, many of my problems would be solved! I could manage my money better, I could remember to pay my bills on time (holy cow), I could make and stick to a schedule, I could abide lists, my house would be clean!

I wonder if Ether 12:27 could apply to organization. Being unorganized could be a weakness, right? Or is it a personality trait? I don't know. Well, if it's a personality trait, it's a weak one, heh. So maybe, just maybe, my Father in Heaven can make this weakness a strength. The idea of me being an organized and focused person seems so outlandish! Yet, it is something I would really like for myself.

Only, I don't want to wait. I want to be organized tomorrow.

Sigh. Okay. Well, I'm going to try to see if Heavenly Father will help me become organized. I am going to try to let Him help me on His time, and try to remember that He can't flip a switch, and that I have to work on it, too.

And now, I'm going to quiet my addict, and face my tasks which are growing by the minute.

Tomorrow is the Sabbath! Oh, sweet day of rest and love.

Listening to the Spirit

Last time I talked to my bishop, he told me that the Spirit will always give a warning before temptation takes over. This is something I had never before honestly considered. He challenged me to try to recognize the warnings of the Spirit.

It certainly didn't seem like I could have been warned every time. But maybe I just wasn't paying attention.

So, the last time I acted out, the day went something like this:

Super stress at work. I have this huge project I'm working on, and it just has to be perfect, and it has to be perfect by next Tuesday. This is the first time I've ever done anything like this and I feel a lot like a fish out of water who's expected to breathe air. Anyway, it's stressful. That day was particularly stressful because it's crunch time.

On my lunch break, I had this formless thought that caused me to wonder if I may be tempted more than normal that night. And then, the formed thought: "this is your warning."

Oh. Wow. Okay, so maybe I was being warned by the Spirit. Well,I thought, don't worry, I'll be fine.

When I got home, I remembered I didn't read my scriptures that morning. So I read something real quick. I fed the kids and put them to bed. At 8:00, I was almost falling asleep. I was so tired. I remembered that tiredness is a trigger, and maybe I should go to bed, but I thought, don't worry I'll be fine. I get to sleep in tomorrow, and I don't want to go to bed early when I get to sleep in.


Seriously, Erin??!

Suddenly, I felt lonely. Loneliness is becoming more and more frequent these days. I want to be married. Loneliness is becoming a trigger these days, and I remembered that. But I said to myself I'll be fine.

Well I watched a Lifetime movie. I could tell where my mind/desires were going. I had a short internal battle, but when I'm that tired, I don't fight well. I figured I should go to bed. Part of me said, "no, I'll be okay," and another part said, "no, I want this tonight! I need it." After that movie, I decided to watch another one! The movies didn't have inappropriate scenes. I had hoped they would, I admit.

Remember how I destroyed my iPhone in March? I got a new smart phone last month. I thought I was ready, and I knew I'd install a filter the second I got it. I did. Net Nanny. It costs, but I like it better than K9 for my computer, so I thought I'd buy another subscription for my phone. And it's awesome. Except that if I download a browser besides the one it comes with, Google, it doesn't recognize it, and I can have full internet access. There's GOT to be a way around this.

Anyway. I can't watch videos on my phone, so I settle for other forms of pornography. And, when the 2nd movie was almost over, I began browsing.

And the rest is history.

So my bishop was right. The Spirit warns. Next time, instead of thinking "Oh, I'll be okay," I'll think up a plan. I will trust that Voice. I will believe that Voice. I'll set a plan for the rest of the day into place and ask God to help me with it.

It's so hard to think I'll be in that spot, though, when I'm so not in that spot. I just need to trust the warnings!

Sometimes I get frustrated with how long it takes me to learn stuff.

PASG vs ARP

Recently, I began primarily attending my local PASG meetings as opposed to the general ARP meetings. The short version of why is that I needed to maintain an important, and nearly vital, relationship by keeping my Friday nights open. I still occasionally attend the Friday night ARP meetings, but my primary meetings are now the Tuesday night PASG meetings.

ARP stands for Addiction Recovery Program. PASG, I think, is Pornography Addiction Support Group. The ARP meetings are an hour long, and are not so well-attended. If there are six of us, that's a pretty good turn-out. The PASG meetings are 90 minutes, and there are often about 20 men there.

Yes, men. Once, there was another woman in attendance. It's awkward. It's slowly becoming less so. Being the one woman of about 20 men is intimidating.

But, here's what. I have never felt unwelcome. I have never felt like a burden or an annoyance. I am what they are, after all, a child of God who wishes to recover from this imprisoning addiction. I learn from these men. I don't like sharing as much at these meetings, though. I don't want to take up so much time since there are so many men. (Once I start talking, I can ramble on and on and not even realize how much time has passed.) Also, I do feel like I don't totally relate. Or, I feel like the men will feel like I don't totally relate, and I fear their judgement.

But know what hit me today? I'll tell you. We read Step 8, and one of the men pointed out a verse of scripture in the study section. There is no fear in love.

I have so much fear. The opposite of fear, I think, is love. Not fearlessness, but love. The opposite of love is fear. Not hate, but fear.

I need to work on replacing my fear with love.

After the meeting, the facilitator approached me and said he's always appreciated a "feminine approach" and he appreciates my attendance. He said he knows it must be awkward for me, and he's so glad I go anyway. I'm so glad he said so. That one comment validated me in a huge way! And it encouraged me, and emboldened me. I'm so grateful he stopped me! He said I'm on equal ground.

And he's right. We're all the same. We have different motives, different ideas, different triggers-- but we're all the same in that all of us there have addictions. We all have a desire to be free. We are each children of a loving Father in Heaven, and for all of us, Jesus atoned. We all must repent to return to our common Home.

Even though I understand that concept, I haven't fully realized it yet. I still separate myself from the men, and feel like they're in charge, and they're more important. It's weird. But I'll grow.




On a sad, sad note, the missionary for the ARP meetings passed away the day before Thanksgiving. Elder Squires was a man of unhindered love. It was like love just seeped from him. He was a safe place to land for us addicts. He was young, and left behind a still-growing family. If you're so inclined, join me in praying for his family's peace.

Vashti

Vashti is my new hero. You know her? She was the Queen of Persia, Esther's predecessor.

I'm searching for stories of courage. I want courage to be a word that defines me. I love the word courage. I long for it to be a part of my story. I want courage coursing through my veins.

I have a long way to go.

Esther is certainly a courageous woman. I love that she approached the king un-summoned, which could have been a death sentence. I love her fearless "If I perish, I perish." I need to say that myself. If I give my will to God and die, I die! I'm not going to die, but with the fear I have about doing it, death may as well be waiting. Sheesh.

Anyway, Vashti, friends! Vashti was courageous, too. Why don't we talk about her? I love her. I totally identify with her, that rebel. Allow me to summarize (with my own interpretations) the story.

So, here's the king, and he's got this big feast going on, for the men in the kingdom. Nobles, princes, servants, etc. They're all drinking and feasting and partying it up ancient-royalty style. So, Vashti's like, "Why he gets a party and I don't?" and so she throws a banquet for the women. Well, the men are drunk and they want something pretty to lust after, so they request to see Vashti. The scriptures say they want to see her because she's beautiful. Well, the king agrees, and sends for his wife.

Vashti says no.

Vashti says no to her husband! She says no to the king of 127 provinces! She was a woman, not a plaything; she was a woman, not a display! She was a woman, and she knew it, and she said no.

I am so proud of her. I imagine she knew that if she said no and publicly humiliated the king, that she would pay severe consequences. And she did. She lost her crown, her husband, her home. But she kept her dignity, and her integrity.

I love that woman! I want to be that courageous.



In other news, I have completed Step Four! FINALLY! And by "completed," I mean it has a beginning, a middle, and an end. It may never be completed, but for the purpose of Step Four, it's done. It took me over a year to face it!!

God is good. Recovery is possible. I'm going to it now. No more waiting for it to come to me.

Control

I'm an easy going, take-it-as-it-comes, mellow, laid back CONTROL FREAK. I want control. I need control. I need everything in my life to be in my control.

You wouldn't know it by looking at me, or my house. I do not look like a woman who's in control. I am untidy and confused. I'm scattered and hopelessly unorganized. But that's okay. That's my way. If it's my way, I'm good.

However, God has something else in mind. He wants me to do it His way. I have a problem with that.

In theory, I like His way best. I know His way is best. I know I need to succomb to His way.

I went to an ARP meeting tonight. A few weeks ago, I began attending the PASG meetings (which are for porn addicts, specifically) instead of the general ARP meetings. Some weeks, I attend both. The PASG meetings are on a night that works better for me, though. But, they're much more difficult to attend, since I'm usually the only woman out of about 20 attendees. It's a big group. A big group of men. They are good men and I think they're okay with me being there.

Anyway. We're on Step 7. Humility. As we read through the step, I was overcome with emotion. It was entirely unexpected. The whole step is about giving control over to God. The emotion, I think, was God telling me to pay attention. So I did. And... I need to give it up. I need to stop trying to convince God to do it my way. Who does that?! This is GOD we're talking about. I know His way is best, I do, but I'd like for Him to just let me be right. I want my way to be okay.

I'm excited about this because the Lord's nudges mean I'm ready. I have done this before. I have decided to turn my life over to Him before. Step 3. I need to do step 3 again, to DECIDE to turn my WILL to God. I need to do that again.

I'm so scared to reqlinquish my illusion of control. Some of the things I fear are:

-What if I do, and then I fail later?
-What if I do, and then succeed?
-Right now, Repentence is the way I feel God's sweet love. What if my need to repent becomes less frequent and I need to feel God's love?
-What if I give up control and then lose control?
-What if giving up control means becoming vulnerable? Exposed?

Maybe that's the biggest fear, my fear of being exposed. God already knows all my weaknesses, my sins. But, do I? God already accepts me as I am, but will I?

Courage, Erin, for the Lord is on your side!

I have so much to say! I'll have to save it for another post. Sleep summons loudly now. Until my next post, let it suffice to say that I know that God loves me. Tonight, He showed me that- both through the ARP meeting tonight, and through a new friend. He's here. He knows. He's going to love me back Home.

Saying Goodbye

I've never been fond of goodbyes. I guess that's a pretty universal sentiment. It's difficult to break off something that's been a part of your life. I was wondering today if I've ever successfully said goodbye to something destructive, and then never looked back.

Often, I say "NO MORE!" but then I'm back to whatever or whomever it is in short order. So, I wondered if I've ever truly successfully permanently ended a destructive relationship with someone or something.

I'm happy to report that yes, yes I have.

There was my first love. We met in college. We were going to marry. He was poisonous for me, and I for him. To this day, breaking up with him for good is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I broke up with him at the end of 2001, and it's been almost that long since I've spoken to him. Now, of course, I don't miss him. Goodbye, Thomas.

Then, hot dogs. Seriously! I used to eat them and feed them to my kids because they're so easy. But they're so bad for you! I stopped buying them. Now, I think they're gross. Goodbye, hotdogs.

Then, cutting myself. I used to cut my arm when I was frustrated at myself or at life. I was certainly addicted to the release of anxiety that cutting brought. Check out My Story for more on that, if you'd like. I haven't brought a sharp edge to my own skin since 2007. Goodbye, cutting.

Then, a few men that I talked about inappropriate things with every time I talked to them. I stopped all communication, and haven't sought them out.

Maybe there are others. The point is, I can do this! I've done it before. I've eliminated destructive elements in my life. I can do it again. I will.

The Lord has shown me how. I need to trust Him. I don't necessarily believe that what He says will cure me, will cure me. I feel like He keeps telling me over and over, "read your scriptures." "Have Family Home Evening." "Put me first." "Serve others." "Immerse yourself in good music." These are the things that I believe God is telling me will save me. They're easy. They're all within my ability to daily accomplish. It's like I keep thinking, "one more try at my way, God." But my way has never, ever worked. It's time to do it God's way.

I need to find out what I'm afraid of.

One thing I know is that I can overcome. I have. Others have. I will.

Today I'm going to clean and rearrange my bedroom. It's where my favorite sins normally take place. It'll be a small token of my readiness and willingness to change, to say goodbye. I'm going to change where I sleep on my bed. I'm going to try very hard to use my bed only for sleeping.

I'm also considering telling my family about this. I know they would not turn away from me. Chances are, they'll be a wonderful strength to me. Some may judge me, but I'm used to that, haha. I'm afraid they'll spy on me and ask me dumb questions. I'm afraid they'll look at me differently. But maybe it'd be worth the negative probabilities. I follow a blog, (Gay) Mormon Guy, and the writer just revealed his true identity after a long time of strict anonymity. It didn't turn out so bad for him. I admire his courage. All his friends and family know, now, that he struggles with Same Sex Attraction.

I'm considering it. Right now, it seems like a great idea. Tomorrow, it may not. We'll see.

I can say goodbye. I can come boldly to the Throne of Grace. I can come off conqueror. Jesus has freed me!

God Will Abundantly Pardon

Verse 7 of Isaiah 55 caught my attention just now. It says that if people repent and turn to God, that He will "abundantly pardon."

I write with soiled hands and a heavy heart, but I am filled with hope. Like Enos, I ask, "Lord, how is it done?" How am I permitted this great, enlightening hope, in the very midst of self-destruction?

When I really think about it, the mercy of God astounds me. The reality is, He is there every time I turn to Him. Every time. No exceptions. As an addict of around 18 years, I cannot even estimate how many times I have turned back to Him, after turning away from Him that many times. And yet, every time, there He stands! He stands ready, eager to pull me into His safe arms, eager to bestow upon me more mercy and grace, patient and gentle. I know that God will "abundantly pardon," because that's what He's done for me. That's what He's doing for me.

I feel like a prisoner. I am a prisoner. I have built walls around me that I cannot break down. But Jesus can free me.

I am ill. I have created my own illness that I cannot cure. But Jesus can heal me.

The scriptures tell us that the Lord will forgive "as often as my people repent." I think that means He'll forgive every time we repent. Every time.

Satan tells me that God is tired of my pleas for forgiveness. Satan tells me God does not want to hear it from me again. Satan tells me I am worthless for meeting this place yet again. He lures me here, then he mocks me here. He is no friend of mine. Satan tells me that since I've been an addict most my life, there is no hope for my recovery. Jesus says though my sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.

A tender and loving Father in Heaven miraculously led me to this talk, and I hope you will read it too, and find as much hope in it as I did:
God Will Abundantly Pardon

I am so thankful for the Atonement. I know that Jesus' sufferings were in my name, in my stead. I have hope that I can be healed.

As an update, I have been working on my actual Step Four. For a long time, I thought this blog was sufficient for my Step Four, but there are many things that I needed to write out that I shouldn't include in a public post. It has taken me quite a while, but I've finished a first draft, and I'm very glad to have gotten through it. Now I can finally move on through the remaining steps. It has been awful, frankly, just as awful as I thought it would be. But it has also been beautiful. I learned, again, that God has shown me His love all through these years, that He has rescued me all through these years, and that His love has never grown tired.

Here's to another long streak of abstinence!

no eloquence

i'm afraid to write this. I don't know why, for sure.

I haven't been doing well.

God has been blessing me enormously. I am getting prayers answered all over the place. I think this addiction is something I run to when I feel like I don't deserve good in my life. I'm not just addicted to sex, but also to the general experience, very much including the following melancholy and despair. It's a sure way I know to make me feel like crap. And if I feel like I should feel like crap, then guess what I do?

Such a lie. I mean, who do I think I am?

I have a lot of bad things happening now too. Family drama. Friend drama. I don't want to face it. I don't want to acknowledge that there might be something wrong with me, and that's why suddenly these people I love don't want to really be in my life.

Life is so good. Things are going so well. Why must I ruin it? I need to accept the fact that it's okay if stuff goes well. I'm allowed to be happy and have joy and have answered prayers.

God never gives up on me. I'm supposed to be working, specifically, on step 4 now. You know what? I know what will save me. Scriptures and Service will save me. Do not be slothful because of the easiness of the way.... I'm being slothful.

What's Step 4 supposed to do anyway? Find the roots I have? I do that all the time. I find the roots of my problem, which roots are numerous and seemingly infinite in number.

How do I do it? Once upon a time, I was a very young girl and I masturbated? I had no clue what I was doing and then I never really stopped, except a brief hiatus during marriage....? There's no way I'll ever remember every incident. It's a different kind of addiction than others because the affect on others around me isn't so great as an alcohol addiction or drug addiction. I am sure that the addiction has caused me to hurt others but what am I supposed to do? "Hey, I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention to you that one day, but I was thinking about sex....?" Am I minimizing my addiction right now? I don't know.

I don't like Step 4. I get the purpose of it I think but I'm not sure the purpose can ONLY be achieved by completing Step 4.

I know what I must do. I have to really study my scriptures. I have to go to bed on time. I have to listen to the Spirit. It's simple. I'll do it.

Jesus knows why

I heard recently that Jesus knows why I fail. Why.

So, hit me. Why do I fail? Why did I fail just now? Why?

With each recurrence, hope flies away, one chunk at a time. I lose who I am.

I must cling, though, to hope, which hope I do not deserve.

This is it. This has to be it. I'm going to write a letter to my daughter as if she were me. As if she was in this very very spot that I am now, what would I say to her? I think it'd be something like this:

My dear, dear daughter,
Oh how I love you. I do know that you are making efforts. I do know that you're trying. I believe you can try better. I believe you can give more. Perhaps you don't know how. I know that you are giving a lot right now. I know that you're trying, my dear, I know that you're trying. I wish you could see what I see. You see a failure. You see this one moment. I see a beautiful daughter of God. I see a beautiful soul, a kind young woman, a brilliant mind and a gentle heart. I see a good, good woman who makes mistakes.

You are not this moment. You are much bigger than this moment, better than this moment. Please, don't let this one moment decide who you are. Please repent, now. I know you think that it's impossible that He will hear your pleas of sorrow. How can He believe you're sorry, you wonder. But, the purpose isn't to convince Him of your sorrow. The purpose of repentance is to turn your heart to Him. Even if you don't think He can believe your repentance to be sincere, even if you don't believe your repentance to be sincere, the very act of asking for God's mercy turns your heart to Him.

Don't run. If I could beg you, I would. Please don't run. You are far from the Rod now, but it is within your reach. Oh, grasp it, my daughter! Grasp it now and cling to it as if your life depended on it. Indeed, it does. Do not tell yourself you don't deserve the blessings of obedience. Just obey. You can't change what you just did. You can't change what you've done. But you still have your future to decide.

Decide.

Where are you going now?

You are loved more than you can comprehend. Nothing you do can separate you from my love, or from God's love. He loves you still, and you know that, and He wants to rescue you still. You've forgotten that. He wants to gather you now into His arms and tell you to come Home. He wants you Home. He still wants you, because you're still His.

It's not about how many mistakes you've made in the past. It's not about how many times you've fallen. Be standing when He comes. Be standing when you meet Him. Arise, my daughter, and Shake thyself from the dust; arise, and sit down, O Jerusalem: loose thyself from the bands of thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion.

I love you. You will do this. You will conquer this. The blood of our Savior will set you free. Don't stop trying.

~Your Mother

I like that.

And I wish Jesus would tell me why I failed.

we all fall down

I scramble for excuses, but I haven't any. Not any real ones, anyway.

I've been working on Step 4 again. I feel like I haven't really done it. But, it triggers me. Maybe I'm doing it wrong.

That's an attempt at making an excuse. "I fell because I was doing my moral inventory and it triggered me. Not my fault. I was just doing what the Program says I should do."

"I'm broke and I'm stressed."

"It's because I didn't read the scriptures."

"It's because I didn't get enough sleep."

But, it's not any of that. It's because I chose to sin. I made a deliberate choice. I don't know when the choice was made; I can't quite pinpoint it. It wasn't necessarily a conscious choice. I don't know if I made it when I was on the computer looking at pornographic thumbnails because my filter won't allow me to go to pornographic websites, or if I made it earlier in the day.

Honestly, I'm very tempted to return to the sin tonight. I was nearly sixty days strong! I was so far! I was doing so well.

I'm not letting myself think mean things about myself. I'm trying to nurture myself back to health. Nourishment is how we get healthy. Nourishment and sometimes medicine.

The "reasons" I listed above are certainly contributors, but they're not excuses. If I'd been reading my scriptures like I should, I may have been spiritually stronger. If I'd gotten enough sleep, I may have been spiritually stronger. If I wasn't in the red, I may have been less stressed and less inclined to turn to a faulty coping mechanism. But, I can't blame my choice on any other choices, or any other circumstances.

I have to start my count all over, but I'm not starting from the beginning. Lessons haven't been erased by my choices. Growth hasn't been reversed. I'm still in a better place than I was two months ago. And I'm grateful to God for His grace and mercy that carried me the past two months.

It's just that my growth is so slow!!! How do I speed it up?

60 DAYS!

I'm not there yet, but I'm close, so close! I always told myself that when I make it 60 days, I'm going to buy myself a nice CTR ring. I've never had a nice one, and it would serve as a pretty reminder that I CAN choose the right because I HAVE chosen the right. And it would be a milestone marker that I could have forever.

I don't remember the exact date of my last incident. But on August 30th, if I'm still clean, I'll be beyond 60 days clean, and I will make that purchase.

I'm so grateful to my Father for standing by me, guiding me to Him, forgiving me, and ever, ever loving me. I haven't done a step of this alone.

I'm proud of my efforts, though, and grateful for God's constant grace, which far exceeds my efforts.

I still feel vulnerable. I still feel as though at any moment, I could throw this all away. I still feel like I'm IN it, in the middle of it, still an addict through and through.

But I'm a recovering addict.

I will continue to beg for God's guiding grace, and His mercy. I need Him, now more than ever, for I am in a crucial point of my recovery.

The Road Not Taken

I shouldn't reference a poem I dislike. Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" bothers me because the narrator did not make a good choice, nor a bad choice. The two paths before him were the same. The same. "And both that morning equally lay/ In leaves no step had trodden black." See? The same. The poem wouldn't bother me in the least if so many people didn't think it was a poem about making the right and difficult choice. Anyway. I digress.

Unlike the speaker of Frost's poem, I am taking, right now, a new road. I should say "The Road Not Previously Taken." I haven't been counting how many days I've been clean because I don't want to pressure myself. But, dear Reader, I know I've made it farther than I have in years. The last time I indulged in my favorite sins was in the middle of June. Therefore, it has been more than 38 days, my previous record.

I am not as interested in breaking records as I am in being clean.

I love this road. I love this path. I am lighter, happier, braver and much, much stronger. I don't know why, precisely, but I have been doing things a little differently ever since I changed my mind. I wonder if, in order to change your heart, you must first change your mind? I had been working diligently on Step 3 from the Church's recovery program, which is "the decision step." It says "Decide to turn you will and your life over to the care of God the Eternal Father and His Son, Jesus Christ." It just sounds like words when I type it out that way. But this step, when I finally actually took it, was a turning point. I studied the words in the booklet carefully, and as I did, my fear began to break. I began to see, really see, that it was okay for me to struggle. And of course I would struggle! I began to see myself as a member of the human race. I began to truly understand that maybe it was okay to try and then fail; that trying and failing was better than not trying. I began to stop lying to myself. I began to see that gradual change is okay. Eventual forsaking of this addiction is okay! I can't do it all now and I stopped expecting myself to do it all now.

So, I fearlessly decided that I would give my life and my will to God. My decision happened maybe only a few days before this post. I accepted that even so, I would fall. But He knows that. He doesn't need perfection this instant. He needs our will to line up with His, and He needs our efforts.

I now believe that effort is more important than follow-through. Previously, I feared committing because I knew I might break my commitments. But that's not the most important thing. The most important thing is that I'm willing to give my will to God, and that I honestly try to do that every day.

Besides, my ultimate commitment is to live my life in such a way that I will return to my Father's Kingdom, that I will fill the place that is prepared for me there. Because of the Atonement, failing to keep my commitments 24/7 will not permanently break my ultimate commitment.

My therapist helped me realize that I am black and white, all or nothing. I never saw it before, but she's right. It's a false way of perceiving life, and it's a dangerous way to live. I'm breaking free of that as well.

Instead of wanting God to walk with me, I've been seeking and trying to walk with Him. Instead of trying to get God to do things my way, I've been trying to do things His way. I have been repeating the Sacrament Prayers aloud every day. Finally, I have been taking the Sacrament! I feel its cleansing power every time I partake. Instead of praying for God to remove this addiction, I pray for Him to help me through it. I am willing, now, to change. I'm willing to give up my will.

When I look back on the past five or six weeks, I see that my changes have been very small. And I also see that my Father matches my efforts, and doubles my return! As I give a little, He gives a lot. The effort is worth it. I wish I could go back and tell the old me that the effort is worth it. Why did I fear?

I must keep learning and keep changing. I now believe that I will one day look back at this time and see these sins as something I used to do.

Do not misunderstand. This road has not been easy. It never will be easy. But I'm not so scared of work anymore. I know that I can do hard things! I know that the Lord will sustain me! He has shown me that He will reward my efforts ten-fold! One day I will be free. I can't wait to return to the temple. Soon. Soon.

I have been focusing on the solutions, not the problem. I have been getting porn out of my view. There are some Facebook groups that are anti-porn that I used to be a part of, but I don't even want to see the suggestion of porn, regardless of the intentions of the source. I've taken myself out of those groups. When temptations come, as they do, I'm able to see them for what they are and I kick the ideas out usually immediately. If the temptation keeps returning, then I pray, and then I listen, and then I act. Recently, I was so strongly tempted that I thought I would give in, but I prayed instead, and the idea came to repeat the Sacrament prayers that I'd been reciting morningly. And I did just that. I said those words over and over and over again and I didn't stop till I felt strong, till the Spirit was restored in my heart, and I was able to think of other things.

It saved me. My Father saved me! Jesus saved me.

I don't know if I'm done with this sin. I don't know if I'll slip again or not. Maybe I will . . . but maybe I won't! I hope I won't. But if I do, I will accept it and move forward.

Here's to moving forward.

Well...I did it.

I told the bishop what I didn't want to tell him. And I didn't die. And he agreed that it was a different version of the same sin.

I'm very frustrated because I don't feel better for doing it. I don't. I don't feel that lightness that I usually feel after confession. What is going on? If I didn't know God better, I'd think He was playing games with me.

But I do know God better. And I know that whatever this is, it's okay. I told the bishop because I felt like I should tell the bishop, and I'm no worse for it. I just really wish I felt better for it.

Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I think I did gain something from it. I was there, and I told my bishop I had to tell him something but I didn't know why and I'm sorry he has to know about it. I told him I hope he'll forget it the second I walk out the door. He told me that's about how it works. He told me he remembers the things he's told when he needs to, and doesn't really think about them otherwise. Bishop White from my other ward-- my favorite bishop ever-- had said something similar to me once. He said he doesn't think about all the rotten things I've done in my past when he sees me at church or anywhere else. He said when he saw me, he just feels the spirit.

So I'm going to try really hard to forget that the bishop knows this thing about me, all of this thing, that I'm a sex addict, that I look at porn and use my own body for my own pleasure. If he's not thinking about it whenever he sees me, then I don't need to worry about it whenever I see him.

Also, I did it! It was extremely difficult and took a lot of courage. Look at me, don't I look nice in this shade of courage? I can do hard things! I can make myself do stuff that's hard and get through it. I don't think I can accurately state that I'm a coward anymore.

So, I did learn good things from this. And isn't learning what it's all about anyway?

Working it Out

I just got off my knees where I'd been for maybe 30 minutes, talking to a God I know can hear me, but who didn't seem keen on answering me.

I have an appointment in less than an hour with my bishop. I have some things to confess. No new sins, but a new method. This new method is something I'd like to take to my grave. God knows. I've talked about it with Him. The thing is, to me, it's the same sin in a different way. And I don't want to tell my bishop about the different way because it's embarrassing. And I don't know if I need to.

If I'm a smoker, does it really matter whether I use a match or a lighter to light my cigarette? I should think no, no it doesn't matter.

If I'm a drinker, does it matter what glass I use? Does it matter what drink I drink, even? Would I have to tell the bishop that I got drunk from vodka verses wine? Wouldn't just "I got drunk again" be sufficient?

I feel like God isn't giving me an answer here. I have to tell the bishop or not tell the bishop in 40 minutes, and I'm not getting an answer.

I feel like it's not fair. If I don't have to tell him, I don't want to! If it's not important to my salvation whether or not my confession includes the details of my methods, then I don't want to include those details in my confession.

I never want to question this though. I mean, next week, when the trays of the Sacrament are placed before me, I want to partake! I want to partake knowing that I've confessed everything that I must confess. I want to partake without doubt that I'm doing the right thing. I do not want this new, unconfessed method haunting me from the cobwebbed corner of my mind as I chew the bread and swallow the water.

I thought if I wrote it out, an answer would come. But I'm still stumped. I don't want to tell him just because I MIGHT have to. You know? If I can leave this out and worthily partake of the Sacrament next week, that's what I want to do! This isn't as easy as a "just in case." I'm don't want to tell him "just in case" I should. I want to know.

Here's the thing. The Heavens are quiet. And all I can think of, really, is taking the Sacrament next week and wondering if it's okay, hoping I'm alright, wondering if I should have told the bishop. And that's not comfortable. I won't be comfortable in that situation. In other words, I know that my conscience won't be clear unless I tell my bishop. I was hoping, I guess, that God would clear it for me. But, He's not. He's not clearing my conscience. Maybe that's the answer. I guess that's the answer.

Okay. I'm going to tell him. I suppose it won't kill me, though I kindof think I'd rather die.

God's Love

For the billionth consecutive Sunday, I was unworthy of the Sacrament last week. Normally, I make it to church in time to miss the Sacrament. Lately, I've been telling myself I need to be present to all of church, to show God that I'm serious about repenting, so I take the kids to the back, on the hard chairs, in the overflow. It's embarrassing to pass up the Sacrament. I've written about this before. My kids don't even ask about it anymore. I want, so badly, to be a mother who can take the Sacrament with her children. How can I really teach them its importance when I don't participate in it?

Last week, the cultural hall was closed because they refinished the gym floor, and it needed to be free of feet for a time period. So the whole ward had to crowd in the chapel. I was early but only barely. The kids were at their dad's, so it was just me. Finding a spot for one body wasn't going to be difficult. But I was nervous to see that I was bound to the chapel. And since all the rows were filled, I was bound to sit next to someone. Or, I could walk out till the Sacrament was finished. I decided to face it. I looked around for someone who wouldn't be judgmental of me when I passed the trays on without partaking. I found my visiting teacher. She's wonderful. I approached her but then realized she was saving the row for her family. Of course. And she has a very large family. There was some room on the row behind her, right next to Sister Michaels. I don't know Sis. Michaels well at all. I do know she has a heart of love because she's my son's primary teacher, and she is so good with him. She's new in the ward, though. I thought I already looked awkward looking for a place to sit, and it would be just as well to sit next to her than anyone else. I asked if the spot was taken, and she said no. I sat, and we didn't speak to each other.

Before I went to church that day, I'd prayed to feel God's love while I was there.

Well. We sang the Sacrament hymn. I was becoming more and more nervous, trying to convince myself that it didn't matter what she would think, trying to remind myself that the fact that I was unworthy of the Sacrament was a much bigger issue than what Sis. Michaels would think, trying to comprehend the seriousness of my sins, praying that I could be forgiven, trying to make myself believe that this time, I was worthy. It'd been a few weeks, after all. But, I didn't feel worthy in my heart. These thoughts continued during the prayer as I listened to the words "to all those who partake" and knew that I was not among those blessed ones, not today. I have rejected the love and grace of the Savior, which I illustrate when I pass the trays of the Sacred Emblems.

I was hoping the deacon would deliver the bread and water on my side. Sis. Michaels, that way, may not know that I didn't take the Sacrament before passing to her. But it didn't happen like that. Instead, it was passed down the pew to Sis. Michaels and then to me. First the bread. She offered the tray after taking a piece. I wished that I could partake. I hoped she wouldn't gossip. I hoped she wouldn't sit and think about what I had done, trying to guess. I hoped she didn't think I was a bad mom. I hoped she didn't think I lacked a testimony.

Avoiding her gaze, instead of taking a piece of bread, I took the tray handle and passed it to the deacon to my left.

How humiliating.

I held on to a hymnbook, closed my eyes, and prayed. I tried not to worry about what Sis. Michaels was thinking.

I also passed on the water with shame, humiliation, and sorrow for my sins. I prayed some more as the deacons offered the water to the rest of the ward.

Soon before the deacons were finished, Sis. Michaels leaned in toward me, put both her arms around me, and told me, "You need to know that you are loved." Before my tears could swallow my voice, I told her "thank you." Soon, I was sniffling and wiping my face. She hugged me again, and as I wiped a tear, I smiled at her and said "you did this," jokingly, about my daggum tears. She whispered, "I was only following an impression, which is something I do often."

I reflected on that. He loves me, my reader, even as I am passing up the offering of His Son. He loves me so much that He will inspire a good and righteous sister to tell me, on a prompting, that I am loved, even while I reject the offering of His Son.

How humbling.

I was rewarded for being on time. I was rewarded for not running away. And now I will make every effort to never skip any portion of church to avoid the Sacrament, or for any other reason. I know that I won't experience something so incredible every week, but I never want to miss out on feeling God's love. If I'd run away, like I'd been tempted to, I would have missed that beautiful answer to my prayer. Sis. Michaels would have missed an opportunity to listen to the voice of the Spirit.

I'm so grateful for His astonishing, astounding love. I can't wait for church tomorrow. And I hope that the following Sunday, I'll be among the partakers.

Take It, Lord

For years, many many years, I have asked the Lord to take this away from me, take this tendency, this addiction, this desire for sin away from me.

I knew He could do it.

He's healed the blind, the deaf, the lame, the leper. He's changed hearts. I knew He could heal me, too. He could take my heart of stone and replace it with a soft heart. He could squash every temptation before it reached me. He could make me new.

Why wasn't He?

I figured there was something wrong with my faith. I just needed to change my faith, increase my faith, so that He could heal me. I knew that it was a righteous desire; I desire to be free of this addiction, and to take the Sacrament each Sabbath, and to go to the temple, and ultimately experience Eternal Life as my Father intended it! That is the desire of my heart; what desire has ever been more righteous? And so, I knew my desire was good. I asked in prayer, sometimes begging my God, soaking midst my tears, "Oh, Father, take it from me! Oh, take this from me, please! I hate it! I'm sick of it! I know You can take it, please take it!" And so it seemed the only ingredient left was faith. I thought I had faith, but I kept messing up.

How many scriptures promise that if we pray, in faith, we will be given our desires if the desire is good? I almost saw it as a checklist. Pray: check. I pray all the time. I pray and I ask Him to take it away from me. Good desire: check. I know the desire to be free from sin is a good desire. Those two are pretty solid- measurable. But faith? Well that was the only thing I couldn't measure. I concluded that my faith must not have been strong enough. Often were my prayers, "Help thou my unbelief."

But the thing is, sometimes He heals the sick. But, sometimes, He doesn't.

I had a good talk with my bishop. He explained that I didn't get in this mess alone. You see, I'd always said "I dug this pit myself and jumped in, now I need to get myself out." It didn't seem right that I should need a Savior to help me out of something I ran into, willingly. I didn't want to need Him. I wanted to show myself that I could get out of this mess, that I could take responsibility for my own mistakes. That's pride, really. But, the bishop helped me realize that I did not dig this pit alone. Indeed, without the Adversary, my sinful desires wouldn't be nearly as strong. I didn't dig this pit alone. I listened to the whispers of the devil and his helpers, and they were there digging the pit with me. I didn't get here alone and I certainly cannot get out alone. I need my Savior.

After my good bishop illustrated that for me, I went home and knelt just to pray, just to talk to God. During the course of our conversation, I realized that under no circumstance would He remove this from me at this time. He made it quite clear that I have to go through it get past it. This is my burden, this is the load I must carry. I am an addict. I may just be an addict until my dying day. This may just be a lifetime struggle for me.

The very idea that I will bear this my entire life was far too frightening for me to even consider for a moment, until that moment. Because even as He was saying, "I will not take this from you," He was also saying, "But I will help you through it. I won't take it away, but I'll be here when you need me, when you seek me. I won't eliminate this burden from your life, but I will help you carry it."

So, I have to do it, but I can do it.

If my son were to ask me to do his homework for him, of course I would not. To do so would be to cheat him of an education, to cheat him of valuable learning, to cheat him of self respect. Likewise, I think my Father looks at this situation in my life similarly. To remove it from me would be to cheat me out of incredible, valuable lessons.

However, if my son were to request my assistance on a specific problem, of course I would help him. I'd go over the steps with him, and remind him of the process. Likewise, God will help me when I ask Him to. He will help me with problems, but He won't take the whole lesson from me.

And, really, what a beautiful and tender act of mercy. That He would allow His Son to suffer for my arrogance, my pride, my constant repetition of this sin, just so I could learn some lessons? Sometimes it would be easier for me to do my son's homework for him than to sacrifice my time to help him with problems. But it would be a sacrifice I'd happily make for my boy. But if my daughter had to suffer in order for my son to succeed.... that would change things. I don't know what I would do. Father let Jesus suffer so I could succeed.

Now that I know that He won't take this out of my life, I am filled with relief. My energies can go somewhere more fruitful.

Dear Reader, I am learning so much. I feel like I am learning beautiful truths that I wouldn't be able to learn any other way, unfortunately. But I'm learning them. I hate this addiction. I hate it and I can't wait to be free. But in way, I love it because of all the truths I've found by it. The cost is too high so I need to find a better, more humble way to learn these lessons. But you know what? I'm learning how to do that, too.

I'll be alright.

Self Salvation

It's what I want. I want to be able to save myself. Maybe so I can have the glory? So I can say *I* did this. I got here alone. So I can have something to be proud of? Yes, perhaps that's it.

At any rate, I can't save myself. Yeah, I dug this pit. Yep, I jumped in, knowing full well I would be trapped. Yes, this is my doing, but I cannot save myself! This is what Step 1 means, I think- "Admit that you, of yourself, are powerless to overcome your addictions and that your life has become unmanageable."

I am powerless to overcome this addiction. I am holding on to power as though it is mine, as though I have it; but it is not, and I do not. *I* want to be the one to climb out of this pit! I want to be the one, the ONE. Because if someone else saves me, then I'm wrong. If someone else saves me, then I have to give up all credit.

But I'm wrong! I'm finally seeing how wrong I am. I'm finally seeing that the power to save me is in Jesus' pierced hands. I have to give it to Him, give to Him what is His. I am powerless because the power I think I should have doesn't belong to me. That's why I can't use it. I'm not God! I'm not Jesus Christ! I am not the One who paid for my salvation. I am NOT the ONE. Who do I think I am? D&C 122:8- The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?

It is time to give it up.

I read this today: Helaman 5:9 O remember, remember, my sons, the words which king Benjamin spake unto his people; yea, remember that there is no other way nor means whereby man can be saved, only through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ, who shall come; yea, remember that he cometh to redeem the world.

and it hit me hard. I remember a seminary teacher telling me that when the word "remember" is used twice in a row in the Book of Mormon, that I should pay attention! So I read that, and snapped out of my duty-reading. And I heard it, I heard the message to me. O remember, remember, my daughter, remember that there is no other way nor means whereby you, Erin, can be saved, only through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ, who shall come; yea, remember that he cometh to redeem the world.

And I heard "you cannot save yourself! I did not give you the power to do so; I gave it to Jesus. You are redeemed, but not by your hand. There is no other way nor means whereby you can be saved, only through the blood of Jesus. Now, stop trying to take that away from Him."

I've got to stop trying to save myself. It cannot be done. The glory of my redemption isn't mine! The power to save me doesn't belong to me.

Do you see how deep is my pride?

It's not I'm powerless because it's too hard; it's I'm powerless because I have NO POWER to save myself, to free myself from this addiction. Trying to take that power from my Savior is counterproductive.

So, now that I realize that I cannot save myself, the next step is to trust Jesus to save me.

Verses 10 and 11 of the Helaman 5: 10 And remember also . . . that the Lord surely should come to redeem his people, but that he should not come to redeem them in their sins, but to redeem them from their sins.

I'm still struggling with what this means. What does in my sins vs from my sins mean? I think it's just that I will not be saved WITH sin. I will be saved without sin. Rescued, really, from sin, from my sins. And isn't that beautiful? I'm not a packaged deal! These sins that I despise can be put off of me, because Jesus came to save me FROM them. They will not be a part of me, if I choose to partake of the Atonement. When I am redeemed, my sins will not be a part of me anymore. I think that's what it means to be redeemed from my sins.

11 And he hath power given unto him from the Father [Jesus' power-- not mine!]to redeem them from their sins because of repentance; therefore he hath sent his angels to declare the tidings of the conditions of repentance, which bringeth unto the power of the Redeemer, unto the salvation of their souls.

So repentance is MY choice. Salvation-- not in my control! But repentance is my key to the great door of Salvation, which Jesus has the power to open. Repentance is what brings the power of the Redeemer unto the salvation of my soul! When I think of the power that He has, and that by repenting I can have access to that power-- that's amazing. The power isn't MINE, but I can be affected by it, saved by it, if I repent.

I love this Gospel. I love my Savior. I am trying, now, to give up this power that never was mine, to admit truly and honestly that I am powerless to overcome my addictions. But that Jesus Christ is powerful to save me from my sins.

Onward! I'm a week clean right now, is all. But, I'm learning.

So Many Excuses

I work myself into a frenzy. I get a little crazy with all the things I have to do, and I wonder, did I put everything off till this moment so I would have an excuse to go nuts? So I would have an excuse to seek a distraction?

You know what, Erin? Look at it in the eye. Face it. Yeah, I did this to myself. Yeah, I should have done more last week. Yeah, that's right, this is MY FAULT; MY PROBLEM, and it DOESN'T give me license to sin. Moreover, seeking that pornographic distraction will only do more harm to the current situation, the very situation I'm trying to run away from. It will still be there after my "escape."

Oh. I see. I think that's why I prolong it so much. That's why I keep finding images and videos before the climatic conclusion. Often I wonder "If I want to masturbate, why not just do it instead of looking at all this trash? And yet I look and look. Maybe because subconsciously, I know that when it's done I have to return to reality. I still have tests and homework due. I still have a house to clean. I still have children to feed. But when I'm IN my sin, I don't think of any of that.

LIES.

I'm not crazy. I'm just WRONG. Getting myself to this stage of frenzy, of panic, doesn't do me any good. All my fears that control me-- they're just lies. I'm just WRONG. Panicking at a restaurant because I don't know whether to pay the cashier or at the counter isn't me being psycho, it's me being WRONG. It DOESN'T MATTER. I'm wrong that it's a big deal.

I'm overwhelmed now because I am very far behind in school. I want everyone to pity me and cater to me. I don't want to face it. Whenever I'm overwhelmed, my very first thought is porn. When I look to see how much longer the homework chapter is, and it's many many pages long, instead of taking a breath and plowing through, I think of turning to porn. This is counter productive in so many ways. It's NOT GOING TO MAKE IT GO AWAY!! When I'm finished with the sin, guess what, I still have many many pages of homework to do. And now I can't do it because I'm too depressed and I tell myself I don't deserve an A anyway so there's no point in finishing. I deserve to fail school because of what I just did.

And do I put myself in that lying depression on purpose? As an EXCUSE to FAIL? Do I WANT to fail?

I think perhaps that I feel right with failure. I feel like it makes sense to fail. It makes sense to be sad and lonely and depressed. Something about that just feels RIGHT. But that's wrong. That's where I'm wrong. Men are that they might have joy. I have this belief that I'm supposed to be sad. When I feel sorrow for my sins, I feel RIGHT. When I cry, it feels right!

Why is that? Why do I feel so good when I feel like hell?

Class is starting soon and today I'm going.

Never Felt Crazier

My addiction is progressing.

I'm all out of whack. I imagine this post will be odd and disconnected. I've been meaning to write for a long time but every time I get on here, I stare at the blank screen because what I want to say isn't formed into words. So today I'm just writing.

It's the fear, really. Today I have an appointment with my therapist. First time I'll see her since I ruined my Temple goal. I'll tell her everything and I wonder if she will be able to help me.

So much fear. My heart is seized with it. It encircles my heart and it's so big that it obstructs my lungs. It's like I can't breathe well. I don't even really know what I'm afraid of. I can't think of it. Failure I guess.

God never punishes me. MAYBE the reason I insist on punishing myself is because maybe it seems like if I punish myself, He won't punish me.

I should just let Him be God. I want to turn my life over to Him. But I'm afraid to. I don't want to admit that I can't take care of myself. I don't want to admit that I can't fix this.

I don't know what's real. I think I'm living my rock bottom. I hope I'm living my rock bottom. I keep waiting for a rock bottom. I think maybe my rock bottom is a string of events rather than one defining event. I'm so depressed right now and I'm tired of life. Tired of me. Tired of sinning.

That guy in my last post that I said I kicked out my life-- well I did but not then. I let him back in and then we did more bad stuff so I kicked him back out and now we never talk and I'm so glad.

I just get so crazy. I want to blame everything but me. I don't want to admit that I have a sex addiction. I have admitted it, I mean I've SAID it. But I haven't accepted it. I am a sex addict! I AM A SEX ADDICT. It fills me with such shame and sorrow. Who, ME? An addict? A SEX addict??! That just doesn't make sense. It makes NO SENSE that I'm a sex addict. I wasn't raised this way. My parents would probably think -- well I don't know what they'd think. They'd be ashamed and sad. Maybe blame themselves. But it's not them, it's me. My choices. I chose this. I didn't chose to be an addict but I chose all the things that led me to that addiction.

My addiction is getting worse! The images I choose to view are worse and worse. Oh I found a way to get past my filter on my computer. It was an accident. I've tried to find a way past it several times and couldn't. But, I accidentally did the other day, maybe yesterday, and I feel I wasn't strong enough to withstand the temptation that followed. I feel like it was too much for me to bear.

But the Bible says we are NOT tempted above that which we can bear. So. I must be wrong.

I'm scared. With the progression of my addiction, how bad will it get before I decide that the pain of the problem is worse than the pain of recovery?

I need to accept myself as an addict. I need to love myself as an addict.

But that's just it. I KNOW all the right answers. I know the right choices. I know how to overcome this. I'm just not doing it all.

David Ridley is always in my head. I have been remembering some things that he told me that I had forgotten about. I remembered something else he asked me. And it grossed me out. And that man messed me up but I still have my choices so as much as I want to blame him, I can't.

The only reason I'm blogging now is because I managed to convince myself that it's a good excuse to avoid homework.

I'M SO AFRAID!!!

Well I do't miss my iPhone. I miss it for texting. I don't miss the games or the porn or the constant checking of Facebook.

Last night I was looking at porn when the kids were awake. If I've ever done that before, it's been very rare. They weren't in the room of course. But when I think of what I could have exposed them to I want to die. Do I hate my children?

I was hoping that writing would purge my soul but I feel no less filthy.

Confession

It is Wednesday.

Last Wednesday I did very bad things. Yesterday I did very bad things. And almost every day between. I'm done now.

We're not even talking my normal-bad. I went above and beyond this time. All week. I am miserable. heavy, low, sick...

Yet I feel compelled to return to God. Compelled. Why? Why would He want me? I've made a mockery of this body and mind and agency He has given me. Why would He want me?

Yet.... it appears He does.

There was this guy, see. I felt powerless to resist his advances because I liked them so much. It could have been worse. It wasn't ALL the way bad. The funniest thing is, I thought he liked me for me. He was lying. Satan was lying. I was lying.

The guy is out of my life now but he left some things behind and he took some things with him. I can't believe I fell for the lies of a man again. Why do I keep doing that? why do I keep trusting till I can't trust anymore, giving the benefit of the doubt till all doubt is gone.... How many times will I have this lesson before I learn it?

But that's not the real issue. The real issue is the choices I made. He came over Wednesday night and I was sure we wouldn't do anything. I told him I just wanted to be friends and he agreed, so when he said he wanted to kiss me, I was surprised. I should have said no but what can a kiss hurt, right? And I love kissing, and it's been SO LONG. So I said yes. He was speedy. He kissed me a few times and then he went for my neck and I said he shouldn't kiss my neck and he did again and it didn't take long at all for us to behave like lust-struck teenagers.

It is rare that my addiction translates onto other in-the-flesh humans. I was ill-prepared for that night. I worried that night would ruin my June 2 goal. I hoped it wouldn't but I didn't know. I was going to talk to the bishop. But then on Friday, I ruined it for myself. Porn on the iPhone. It's the only way I access the stuff. I erased June 2nd with that horrible experience. So now when that day comes I'll want to cry. I will cry, probably.

God didn't punish me and I wanted to be punished I think so I went looking for punishment. Saturday after work I walked into a sex store and made a purchase. I will post a video poem below and from it is this line: "yes, I would like to pay to become the opposite of what I want to be." I think this marks the first time I have ever made an addiction-related purchase.

Then more porn on the iPhone along with the use of my newly-purchased sin.

I couldn't look myself in the mirror, couldn't think about me or my future or my kids or my Jesus. Just my flesh.

Then God still didn't punish me. My house didn't blow up. I didn't get into a wreck. My kids were fine. At their dad's for the weekend, but fine.

Later Saturday, the guy wanted me to meet him for a good time and I wanted to meet him too but instead I went with my friend to her friends' house and we played a game and they were all drinking, all but me. For a little while. Until, for the first time in my 30+ years, I did not decline when I was offered alcohol. I drank it.

Nothing about that makes sense. Well, actually, it does. I wanted to make God punish me.

Know what happened? Nothin. I felt tired but I was up till 3:30. I could walk a straight line, I could do anything, I didn't feel any different and I was SO MAD. I wasn't punished. Nothing happened.

Before I went to sleep, I watched some more porn on my iPhone.

I didn't go to church the next day. The last time I remember skipping church without being ill was in 2004, the day I found out I was pregnant with my 2nd child. That was almost eight years ago.

I skipped my recurring bishop's appt.

I talked to the guy on Sunday. We talked about things we shouldn't have talked about. I told him things I now regret with all my heart. I didn't care. I wanted to die, I wanted to make a reason for God to punish me.

I had about an hour of relative clarity on Sunday afternoon. I took my iPhone outside to the patio, dropped it to the concrete, and pounded it with a meat tenderizer. And a barbell. And a screwdriver. And I stomped on it. And I took it apart, layer by layer, and put it in the trash. Probably some shards of it still lay outside. I hate that stupid phone and now I never have to look at it again.

Monday I went to work and wanted to die and thought of some clever ways to die. But.... nothing bad happened.

Why isn't God punishing me?

Came home and talked online some more with the guy. We talked about sex. I kept telling him that I don't want to talk about sex. He kept telling me sorry. but it kept coming up. I told him if we had another conversation like that, that I wouldn't be his friend anymore. He said he will be a gentleman. He said he was in love with me. He's been saying that for a month or so now. I wish I never met him.

I kept making excuses for him. And for me of course.

So yesterday he called me and he said he just wanted closure. He was going to date this other girl he said. Okay. But we talked about sex, and on the phone it was somehow hotter than online and I just listened to him and he became my porn and I became his.

That was yesterday.

Today I asked him not to contact me again. 20 minutes later, he called. I answered and then hung up so he couldn't leave a voicemail. He never tried to call back.

That's the facts. I can't explain the feelings yet. I haven't quite faced myself, or God. But I can feel Him calling for me which kinda makes me mad because I just want Him to punish me. Why do I want that??

here's that video link. love this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=B28zpGQNm5k

"I don't do this because I enjoy it, I do this because I'm addicted to it." -- A Letter To Marsha

Here's what I know for sure doesn't work:
sex
making out
pornography
masturbation
drinking
cutting
hiding
lying
running away
eating
spending obscene amounts of money
Facebook

I know all this from experience. I experienced almost all of these over the past six days. None of this stuff works but man do I want it to. I keep believing the lie that tells me "masturbation will make this all go away today."

Have you seen the movie Mr. Brooks? It's a crazy movie about a man who is addicted to killing. He has this "imaginary friend" called Marshall. Marshall convinces him to kill. Marshall is the addict in him. In the movie, Mr Brooks says, "I don't do this because I enjoy it; I do this because I'm addicted to it." So.... I named my addict Marsha. We all know Marsha is me but it's interesting and sometimes enlightening when I separate me from my addict-self.

And today, I dumped Marsha in a letter. Here it is:

Hello Marsha,

I would like you to leave me now. You do me no good. When I oblige you, I want to die. You're not allowed in my house anymore; you're not allowed in my life. I never want to see you again. I never want to think about you again. I would beg you to leave but I think you would mock my desperation. And you'd use it against me.

The reason I've kept you around this long is because without you, I am lonely and anxious, and you always convince me that you will cure my loneliness, you will cure my anxiety! You lie to me! How do you always convince me that this time you're telling the truth, that this time you will take away all my troubles?

Instead of curing my loneliness, you intensify it. Instead of alleviating my anxiety, you exponentially multiply it. My life has nothing bad in it that you don't make worse; nothing beautiful that you don't taint.

But I don't know how to live without you. Maybe I can't handle freedom. Maybe I can't handle peace. Maybe I can't handle life without you. You came into my life without my notice, but I do remember a time without you, a very long time ago. And maybe I can't function anymore if you're not with me.

But I'd sure like to try. I'm tired of you; you make me sick. We are so close that it seems like the only way to eliminate you is to eliminate me. But there must be another way.

You will leave me now.I can't figure this out if you're here with me, lying to me about everything, tricking me, enticing me, harassing me, seducing me, destroying me. Leave me now. Go.

Sincerely,
~Erin

I don't think this will do any good but I enjoyed writing it.

This weekend (well, last Wednesday onward), I made more bad choices than I did in my entire adolescence. I'm trying to get God to punish me. I'm trying to find my rock bottom. I'm trying to pay the consequences for my behavior. I'm trying to be my own God. I'm in a very bad place.