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.
-------------
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.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Saturday, December 29, 2012
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!
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!
Friday, December 28, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
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.
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
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
Saturday, December 15, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
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.
sex
external validation
Pepsi
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)