Does honesty prevent slips/relapse?
No.
Does scripture study prevent slips/relapse?
No.
Does prayer prevent slips/relapse?
Yes, but only in the moment of praying.
Do meetings prevent slips/relapse?
No.
Does telling your family prevent relapse?
No.
Does getting a sponsor prevent relapse?
No.
Does communicating with a sponsor prevent relapse?
No.
Do ARP meetings prevent relapse?
No.
Nothing. Nothing does. All these things help, I suppose. Sometimes I'm just so certain that recovery is not in my stars. Sometimes I'm very sure that this is who I am, who I've always been, and who I'll always be.
I was thinking the other day about when this all really started. I thought it was when I was about 13 or 14. But I can go back further than that and I remember being very curious from a very very early age. Before I even knew what sex was. I remember playing with my barbie dolls in ways that would have alarmed my parents. I remember drawing pictures and then ripping them up so they'd never be found. I remember having nightmares... And I was very young.
And so I think this isn't fair. Why would God give me this weakness? Certainly I was born with an inclination to sexual sins, otherwise why would it have manifested so early in my life? I'm like that drinker who has alcoholism when her friends drank as much as she did but are not alcoholics. It's not fair. It's not fair that this stuck with me, despite my valiant decades-long efforts to uproot it. It's not fair that I have to try harder than anyone else just to get and maintain a temple recommend. It's not fair that even though I'm a good person who loves much and tries to serve my neighbors and be kind all the time, I don't get to take the sacrament. It's like a label. It says, "I'm worse than everyone here who gets to take the Sacrament or go to the temple." I may be trying harder than half the people there, but they get all the blessings. All because my weakness is bigger than theirs. "I give unto men weakness that they may be humble." It makes sense to me that I would need a bigger weakness because it definitely takes a lot to humble me. I wish I was someone who had a weakness that didn't keep them from the temple. Something like anger or unkindness or unable to forgive or something like that. Those people get to go to the temple. Their weaknesses are easily managed or just not big enough.
Maybe they really are better, though. Maybe they have worked harder than I ever have and that's why their anger hasn't turned to homicide or their inability to forgive hasn't turned to violent vengeance. My inclinations to sexual sin has turned into a powerful, powerful addiction. I did that. Me.
This has been a very difficult week and it's not getting better. I have made it so. I watched a Dr. Phil episode about a woman who tossed acid on her own face because she wanted to feel and because she felt so ugly. It was totally crazy but I found myself relating to her as I listened to her story. She's healthier now, though.
I have everything I need. I have the scriptures, the Atonement, a sponsor, the ARP meetings, my family, prayer, church, good music-- I have everything I need to recover.
Yet.... I'm not recovering.
I'm not done yet. I'm not healed yet. I haven't learned everything I need to learn yet. You know what? God will be here however long it takes. I have got to be patient with myself because He is so patient with me.
I think it's true that there isn't any behavior or thought that will prevent slips or relapse. There's no magic button. But that doesn't have to mean it's impossible altogether. I can only do this if I believe I can do it. I forgot that I believe that, for a minute. And that was too long. But I remember now that I believe that.
Getting up after a fall isn't almost as good as not falling, but it's infinitely better than staying down. Again I rise.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
It finally hit me that I've been hiding
I've been hiding from God. From my sponsor. From you all. From life. Life is rough. Total newsflash, right? It's hard and I should know that by now and I should expect that by now and I should know that running from it when it gets hard is stupid. And just makes it harder.
But it's what I do. I run. And when I run from one thing, suddenly I have to run from everything else. I shut down. I can't do anything because I can't do the one thing I'm hiding from. Because, I can't clean my house till I do that thing. I can't cook till my house is clean. I can't eat healthy if I can't cook. I can't save money if I have to eat out because I can't cook because I can't clean because I can't do that one thing. I can't write my novel because I need to pay my bills first but before that, I have to clean my computer desk, but really I should clean out my car first so I can get my oil changed so my car doesn't break down in the blasted middle of nowhere. Then how will I get to work? I can't get my oil changed till I go grocery shopping which I can't do because my kitchen is a mess because if I have time to clean my kitchen then I have time to face the thing I don't want to do. But I won't do that.
Do you see how crazy this is? I think this is the craziest thing about me. Maybe someone out there relates. Maybe.
Well I wasted this week doing nothing because I was all up in anxiety over not doing the thing I needed to do. It's been a very difficult week. I want to hide from all my responsibilities. I want to freaking disappear.
All I gotta do is face it. That's it.
This is a huge trigger!! This is what I've done before falling! Hide, isolate, fear and tremble, despair. This is what I do. So I must stop doing it. I must snap out of it.
Well, tonight, I talked to the person I was avoiding, so I hope tomorrow I can make up some lost time. I hope I can shut up this screaming anxiety and be happy and peaceful with myself again. Such is my goal.
Sorry for this totally crazy post. I needed to get it out there. Carry on.
But it's what I do. I run. And when I run from one thing, suddenly I have to run from everything else. I shut down. I can't do anything because I can't do the one thing I'm hiding from. Because, I can't clean my house till I do that thing. I can't cook till my house is clean. I can't eat healthy if I can't cook. I can't save money if I have to eat out because I can't cook because I can't clean because I can't do that one thing. I can't write my novel because I need to pay my bills first but before that, I have to clean my computer desk, but really I should clean out my car first so I can get my oil changed so my car doesn't break down in the blasted middle of nowhere. Then how will I get to work? I can't get my oil changed till I go grocery shopping which I can't do because my kitchen is a mess because if I have time to clean my kitchen then I have time to face the thing I don't want to do. But I won't do that.
Do you see how crazy this is? I think this is the craziest thing about me. Maybe someone out there relates. Maybe.
Well I wasted this week doing nothing because I was all up in anxiety over not doing the thing I needed to do. It's been a very difficult week. I want to hide from all my responsibilities. I want to freaking disappear.
All I gotta do is face it. That's it.
This is a huge trigger!! This is what I've done before falling! Hide, isolate, fear and tremble, despair. This is what I do. So I must stop doing it. I must snap out of it.
Well, tonight, I talked to the person I was avoiding, so I hope tomorrow I can make up some lost time. I hope I can shut up this screaming anxiety and be happy and peaceful with myself again. Such is my goal.
Sorry for this totally crazy post. I needed to get it out there. Carry on.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Learning the Spirit's Voice
You know those people who go around following the Spirit? They're always happy and they're always good and they always have stories in Relief Society or Gospel Doctrine about a time when they listened to the Spirit's voice? I'm sure they're not actually always happy and good, but it certainly does seem to me that people who are the happiest are the people who know the Spirit's voice well.
I don't know the Spirit's voice well. I get confused-- is that my own thought or the Spirit? I figure that trial and error is the best way to learn something like this. I have been praying that I'll learn the Spirit's voice, and Heavenly Father has blessed me with beautiful experiences in answer to those prayers.
First of all, my appointment with my stake president was amazing! I was so scared that he would be annoyed with me taking his time. I was so scared that it wasn't the voice of the Spirit that was prompting me to speak to him. I was so afraid that I was wrong, but I did it anyway, in case. And after our discussion, I'm certain I followed the Spirit. I was supposed to talk to him. I'm so thankful for that experience!
Heavenly Father blessed me with another experience. I had this idea that I needed to do some service, and that I could make dinner for someone else. Dinner, I can do. No problem. But for whom? When I asked myself that question, a name immediately appeared in my head. It was the name of a friend of mine. We're not super close but we probably will be soon. We hang out sometimes and talk on Facebook sometimes and she's in my ward and she's just lovely. I knew I could make dinner for her, and it wouldn't even be so awkward. I had a very specific day in my head as to when I would make this dinner. And I did. She has a husband and three kids, so I made enough for the family and went to deliver the dinner.
When I got to her house, her car wasn't there. Immediately doubt and panic filled my brain. Something like this: Oh, no, she's not even home, obviously I was wrong and I don't know the Spirit. Oh, no. This is so embarrassing. Heavenly Father, please help me to know who else I should give this to, because I'm not taking it home. I can't believe I did this wrong! Some neighbors are going to see me standing here and think I'm crazy!
Well, I parked in her driveway just in case. I walked to the door, just in case. I knocked. I heard nothing. I waited, just in case. And then, finally, her husband opened the door! I don't know him at all and I was sure he didn't know who I was. I said something lame like, "Oh, I'm glad you're home. I brought you dinner." And I gave him the food. I asked if my friend was home and he said she was out of town. So then I thought, are you kidding me? I made all this for one person? A married man who is home alone, even? That's so weird. I have to be getting this all wrong. I asked him when she'd be home, just for small talk, and he said in about an hour.
Oh! Perfect! I was so glad! Now she'd come home from a long-ish drive and not have to worry about dinner! I was so relieved that it made sense!
Later, my friend told me how much she appreciated the dinner because not only had she been driving for so long with three small kids, she'd also not slept well in a while and she was very tired. And she was so thankful that Heavenly Father knew what she needed without her even asking for it.
I know that not all experiences will be so cut and dry, but I think that God knows I need practice here. I have asked Him to please give me a few more experiences that will make sense, and then once I get the hang of listening, and once I trust myself to know His Voice, and trust Him enough, then I won't need so much feedback. He's so good to us!
I want to be an instrument in His hands. I want to be the kind of person who goes around doing good, and knowing just what good to do, because of following the Voice of the Spirit. I want to constantly be in the service of the Lord, constantly helping His children, constantly being God's instrument and doing His work. It's the least I can do after all He's done for me. He is pulling me out of Hell. He is freeing me from certain death and bondage. He is carrying me out of the filth of my past, and releasing me from the chains that I have so carefully tightened around my soul. He is lifting me above the darkness! And the least I can do is feed His sheep. It's also the only thing I can do. I can show Him my gratitude by serving His children.
Today, I read this in the book of Mosiah, chapter 23, verse 10: Nevertheless, after much tribulation, the Lord did hear my cries, and did answer my prayers, and has made me an instrument in his hands in bringing so many of you to a knowledge of his truth.
That is also my prayer. That is also what I hope He makes out of me. I want to be His instrument! I want Him to play His redeeming music through me.
I don't know the Spirit's voice well. I get confused-- is that my own thought or the Spirit? I figure that trial and error is the best way to learn something like this. I have been praying that I'll learn the Spirit's voice, and Heavenly Father has blessed me with beautiful experiences in answer to those prayers.
First of all, my appointment with my stake president was amazing! I was so scared that he would be annoyed with me taking his time. I was so scared that it wasn't the voice of the Spirit that was prompting me to speak to him. I was so afraid that I was wrong, but I did it anyway, in case. And after our discussion, I'm certain I followed the Spirit. I was supposed to talk to him. I'm so thankful for that experience!
Heavenly Father blessed me with another experience. I had this idea that I needed to do some service, and that I could make dinner for someone else. Dinner, I can do. No problem. But for whom? When I asked myself that question, a name immediately appeared in my head. It was the name of a friend of mine. We're not super close but we probably will be soon. We hang out sometimes and talk on Facebook sometimes and she's in my ward and she's just lovely. I knew I could make dinner for her, and it wouldn't even be so awkward. I had a very specific day in my head as to when I would make this dinner. And I did. She has a husband and three kids, so I made enough for the family and went to deliver the dinner.
When I got to her house, her car wasn't there. Immediately doubt and panic filled my brain. Something like this: Oh, no, she's not even home, obviously I was wrong and I don't know the Spirit. Oh, no. This is so embarrassing. Heavenly Father, please help me to know who else I should give this to, because I'm not taking it home. I can't believe I did this wrong! Some neighbors are going to see me standing here and think I'm crazy!
Well, I parked in her driveway just in case. I walked to the door, just in case. I knocked. I heard nothing. I waited, just in case. And then, finally, her husband opened the door! I don't know him at all and I was sure he didn't know who I was. I said something lame like, "Oh, I'm glad you're home. I brought you dinner." And I gave him the food. I asked if my friend was home and he said she was out of town. So then I thought, are you kidding me? I made all this for one person? A married man who is home alone, even? That's so weird. I have to be getting this all wrong. I asked him when she'd be home, just for small talk, and he said in about an hour.
Oh! Perfect! I was so glad! Now she'd come home from a long-ish drive and not have to worry about dinner! I was so relieved that it made sense!
Later, my friend told me how much she appreciated the dinner because not only had she been driving for so long with three small kids, she'd also not slept well in a while and she was very tired. And she was so thankful that Heavenly Father knew what she needed without her even asking for it.
I know that not all experiences will be so cut and dry, but I think that God knows I need practice here. I have asked Him to please give me a few more experiences that will make sense, and then once I get the hang of listening, and once I trust myself to know His Voice, and trust Him enough, then I won't need so much feedback. He's so good to us!
I want to be an instrument in His hands. I want to be the kind of person who goes around doing good, and knowing just what good to do, because of following the Voice of the Spirit. I want to constantly be in the service of the Lord, constantly helping His children, constantly being God's instrument and doing His work. It's the least I can do after all He's done for me. He is pulling me out of Hell. He is freeing me from certain death and bondage. He is carrying me out of the filth of my past, and releasing me from the chains that I have so carefully tightened around my soul. He is lifting me above the darkness! And the least I can do is feed His sheep. It's also the only thing I can do. I can show Him my gratitude by serving His children.
Today, I read this in the book of Mosiah, chapter 23, verse 10: Nevertheless, after much tribulation, the Lord did hear my cries, and did answer my prayers, and has made me an instrument in his hands in bringing so many of you to a knowledge of his truth.
That is also my prayer. That is also what I hope He makes out of me. I want to be His instrument! I want Him to play His redeeming music through me.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Two Weeks Later
Two weeks ago, I had my last slip.
I truly hope it was my last slip.
I am trying to not get cocky. I can see that I have grown because I am not sure if I've ever slipped once, and only once, and then made it more than a few days without falling again. And again and again. I am really quite excited about it! It's proof that the preceding 78 days were worthwhile. It's proof that I didn't start from the beginning again. It's proof that even though I slipped, I'm healthier now than I was two months ago! I'm so happy to see this in a way that is indisputable to me! God is so good. He wants us to be happy. He doesn't want us to dwell in constant misery, and that's exactly why He gave us His Son. We don't have to dwell in misery! I get to be happy if I so choose.
Anyway, it's certainly refreshing to see my new strength. It's like muscle training. If you work for three months on lifting weights and training your muscles, skipping out on a week won't put you back to day 1 two months ago. It'll be bad for you, sure, but it won't undo all the muscle growth you already have. Not all of it. Not even most of it, I should think.
I'm so thankful!
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to write tonight. I know I'm supposed to write something. I keep thinking it's time to post the song I wrote, but I don't know why. It has little to do with recovery. Well.... I'll consider it.
Tomorrow is my appointment with the Stake President. I don't even know what I'll tell him. I have nothing prepared. Nothing seems right. I'm so scared he'll think I'm wasting his time. I keep trying to comfort myself with the probability that in five or so years, he'll forget about meeting me and it just won't matter anymore. Okay. Deep breaths. Why did I do this?! What if it wasn't the Spirit telling me I need to meet with him, but just my own craziness?!
Okay, let's explore that possibility for a minute. What if it wasn't the Spirit? What if it was me? Um, so what? The worst thing that can happen is he'll be annoyed (which is highly improbable, I think, since I'm a member of his stake). If it was me and not the Spirit, then he'll forget about it in time. I can let it go. It will be awkward and embarrassing, but my life won't end, the Church will not cease to be true, God will not cease to be God. Everything will be just fine, even if it wasn't the Spirit. But, if it was the Spirit and I don't do it... Well, I'd rather do it just in case it's the Spirit than not do it just in case it isn't. And so, I will go.
I feel like this post is pointless. I hope it touches someone! It feels so empty to me! Oh well. I don't know what else to say.
Oh, I guess I'll post the video of the song I wrote. It's called Carry Me, Lord. I wrote it last April. Since then, I have written several beginnings to more songs, but few are completed. It's tragic. Anyway. Here it is. Please forgive the buzzing noises near the beginning- I had forgotten to turn my phone to silent from vibrate. Oh, and I really don't have a solo voice. So there's my disclaimer. :) OH. And I'm going to find the doc that has all the image credits and post it also. I found everything on Google Images though so from what I understand, I'm okay to post it.
Lyrics:
Carry me to bed, O Lord
I'm weak and afraid of the storm
I'm all grown up now, but if you would somehow
Lift me up, I won't fight
Hold me close, make me alright
Just this once, Lord, carry me tonight
Tuck me into bed, O Lord
Gently kiss my forehead before
This torrent overtakes, and again my heart breaks
But if You're here in my sight
And hold me close I'll be alright
Tuck me in and cover me tonight
And the storm is now conspiring against me
And it's me, only me, versus this night
The very gates of hell must be gaped open after me
And there's no sleep, no I can't sleep, but I will sleep if You
Sing me to sleep, O Lord
Your lullaby chases the storm
And Your voice, though I weep, at last leads me to sleep
Oh carry me to my bed
Tuck me in and kiss my head
Leave me Your peace and sing to me tonight
Just this once, Lord, carry me tonight
I truly hope it was my last slip.
I am trying to not get cocky. I can see that I have grown because I am not sure if I've ever slipped once, and only once, and then made it more than a few days without falling again. And again and again. I am really quite excited about it! It's proof that the preceding 78 days were worthwhile. It's proof that I didn't start from the beginning again. It's proof that even though I slipped, I'm healthier now than I was two months ago! I'm so happy to see this in a way that is indisputable to me! God is so good. He wants us to be happy. He doesn't want us to dwell in constant misery, and that's exactly why He gave us His Son. We don't have to dwell in misery! I get to be happy if I so choose.
Anyway, it's certainly refreshing to see my new strength. It's like muscle training. If you work for three months on lifting weights and training your muscles, skipping out on a week won't put you back to day 1 two months ago. It'll be bad for you, sure, but it won't undo all the muscle growth you already have. Not all of it. Not even most of it, I should think.
I'm so thankful!
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to write tonight. I know I'm supposed to write something. I keep thinking it's time to post the song I wrote, but I don't know why. It has little to do with recovery. Well.... I'll consider it.
Tomorrow is my appointment with the Stake President. I don't even know what I'll tell him. I have nothing prepared. Nothing seems right. I'm so scared he'll think I'm wasting his time. I keep trying to comfort myself with the probability that in five or so years, he'll forget about meeting me and it just won't matter anymore. Okay. Deep breaths. Why did I do this?! What if it wasn't the Spirit telling me I need to meet with him, but just my own craziness?!
Okay, let's explore that possibility for a minute. What if it wasn't the Spirit? What if it was me? Um, so what? The worst thing that can happen is he'll be annoyed (which is highly improbable, I think, since I'm a member of his stake). If it was me and not the Spirit, then he'll forget about it in time. I can let it go. It will be awkward and embarrassing, but my life won't end, the Church will not cease to be true, God will not cease to be God. Everything will be just fine, even if it wasn't the Spirit. But, if it was the Spirit and I don't do it... Well, I'd rather do it just in case it's the Spirit than not do it just in case it isn't. And so, I will go.
I feel like this post is pointless. I hope it touches someone! It feels so empty to me! Oh well. I don't know what else to say.
Oh, I guess I'll post the video of the song I wrote. It's called Carry Me, Lord. I wrote it last April. Since then, I have written several beginnings to more songs, but few are completed. It's tragic. Anyway. Here it is. Please forgive the buzzing noises near the beginning- I had forgotten to turn my phone to silent from vibrate. Oh, and I really don't have a solo voice. So there's my disclaimer. :) OH. And I'm going to find the doc that has all the image credits and post it also. I found everything on Google Images though so from what I understand, I'm okay to post it.
Lyrics:
Carry me to bed, O Lord
I'm weak and afraid of the storm
I'm all grown up now, but if you would somehow
Lift me up, I won't fight
Hold me close, make me alright
Just this once, Lord, carry me tonight
Tuck me into bed, O Lord
Gently kiss my forehead before
This torrent overtakes, and again my heart breaks
But if You're here in my sight
And hold me close I'll be alright
Tuck me in and cover me tonight
And the storm is now conspiring against me
And it's me, only me, versus this night
The very gates of hell must be gaped open after me
And there's no sleep, no I can't sleep, but I will sleep if You
Sing me to sleep, O Lord
Your lullaby chases the storm
And Your voice, though I weep, at last leads me to sleep
Oh carry me to my bed
Tuck me in and kiss my head
Leave me Your peace and sing to me tonight
Just this once, Lord, carry me tonight
Friday, March 15, 2013
If I Hadn't Slipped
It's good and all that even when I slip, I'm loved by the Savior. Even after a slip, I am wanted in His Kingdom. Even when I slip, I can choose better next time.
But, if I hadn't slipped two weeks ago....
I'd be going to the temple today. Maybe now. Maybe this very moment. It kills me. Dear past me, please don't do it. Please don't do it. Please don't do it. Please let future me go to the temple. The day will come. It's not fiction! It's real.
So--
Dear future me, please don't mess it up again. Dear now me, please be careful and cautious. Please allow me to attend the temple in three months. It's not that far. You can do it. I can do it.
Today could have been the best day of my life.
But, if I hadn't slipped two weeks ago....
I'd be going to the temple today. Maybe now. Maybe this very moment. It kills me. Dear past me, please don't do it. Please don't do it. Please don't do it. Please let future me go to the temple. The day will come. It's not fiction! It's real.
So--
Dear future me, please don't mess it up again. Dear now me, please be careful and cautious. Please allow me to attend the temple in three months. It's not that far. You can do it. I can do it.
Today could have been the best day of my life.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Recovery List
I was working the steps and finally did step 4 when I encountered my sponsor. She saved my life and then suggested that I start the steps over again, because doing them with the help of a sponsor is a different experience. I agreed.
This was three months ago and I'm still on step 1. It's not going well! I'm simply not doing the work. There's always something "better" to do.
I think it was Tuesday night at my PASG meeting that I realized I needed to decide to do something every single day, something toward recovery. At first I thought I was going to work out of my workbook each day but then I realized there's a lot of other things I can do with the direct focus on recovery- a lot of other things I should do as well. My goal is to at least once weekly open up the manual and dive in. At least. And now, I'm going to make a personal list for myself to use in case I get stumped on what I can do toward my recovery. These things will help me, and in case they'd help you, I post them:
Read a story of Jesus from the New Testament
Read a Conference talk
Clean my bedroom
Pay a bill
Make a phone call that I've been putting off
Memorize a scripture verse
Memorize an inspiring poem
Write a recovery-related poem or song
Write in my journal
Forgive a grudge
Make dinner for someone else
Return something borrowed
Return a phone call
Return an email
Return a text (I am terrible, terrible at returning things-- it feeds my addiction, too)
This list is subject to change. I believe that if I do one thing, every day, with recovery as my focus, that I'll become stronger.
Tuesday, I attended a meeting, and I counted that as being the thing I did toward recovery for that day. I don't get to count that again, though. I always attend those and it's not "extra." Yesterday, I made an appointment with my stake president. It was so hard to call the stake executive secretary! The phone call itself was excruciating! I'm not kidding. My anxiety was probably worse than the actual event, though. Anyway, I definitely count that as working toward recovery. (By the way, my appointment is Sunday, at 2:30, and I am exceedingly nervous.) Today, I haven't done anything yet. I don't know why, but I am resisting, like crazy, the idea of opening up my ARP manual!
Obviously, that's what I need to do today. I'll do it now.
But I'm so tired
But I can do it tomorrow; I'll have more time
But I really should sleep
But I haven't watched TV in two weeks and I have shows to catch up on
But I need to wash my dishes
But I'm blogging
But a friend might want to chat on Facebook
But I don't have the time to give it an honest effort tonight
SHUT UP, Satan. I'm doing it now.
This was three months ago and I'm still on step 1. It's not going well! I'm simply not doing the work. There's always something "better" to do.
I think it was Tuesday night at my PASG meeting that I realized I needed to decide to do something every single day, something toward recovery. At first I thought I was going to work out of my workbook each day but then I realized there's a lot of other things I can do with the direct focus on recovery- a lot of other things I should do as well. My goal is to at least once weekly open up the manual and dive in. At least. And now, I'm going to make a personal list for myself to use in case I get stumped on what I can do toward my recovery. These things will help me, and in case they'd help you, I post them:
Read a story of Jesus from the New Testament
Read a Conference talk
Clean my bedroom
Pay a bill
Make a phone call that I've been putting off
Memorize a scripture verse
Memorize an inspiring poem
Write a recovery-related poem or song
Write in my journal
Forgive a grudge
Make dinner for someone else
Return something borrowed
Return a phone call
Return an email
Return a text (I am terrible, terrible at returning things-- it feeds my addiction, too)
This list is subject to change. I believe that if I do one thing, every day, with recovery as my focus, that I'll become stronger.
Tuesday, I attended a meeting, and I counted that as being the thing I did toward recovery for that day. I don't get to count that again, though. I always attend those and it's not "extra." Yesterday, I made an appointment with my stake president. It was so hard to call the stake executive secretary! The phone call itself was excruciating! I'm not kidding. My anxiety was probably worse than the actual event, though. Anyway, I definitely count that as working toward recovery. (By the way, my appointment is Sunday, at 2:30, and I am exceedingly nervous.) Today, I haven't done anything yet. I don't know why, but I am resisting, like crazy, the idea of opening up my ARP manual!
Obviously, that's what I need to do today. I'll do it now.
But I'm so tired
But I can do it tomorrow; I'll have more time
But I really should sleep
But I haven't watched TV in two weeks and I have shows to catch up on
But I need to wash my dishes
But I'm blogging
But a friend might want to chat on Facebook
But I don't have the time to give it an honest effort tonight
SHUT UP, Satan. I'm doing it now.
Monday, March 11, 2013
New Truths
I went to a girls night movie party the other night, with some women I know from church, and some women they know. It was an interesting experience. They watched a movie that is PG-13 that I have seen before, and I knew what was in it, and I didn't like the movie or the questionable scenes. I said, "that movie's kinda naughty," at which point another sister immediately piped up, "it's really not that bad."
Before I realized the power this addiction had in my life, I would watch these types of scenes and think nothing of them. I had become so desensitized by the media and entertainment! Now, I'm quite the opposite. In active and determined recovery, I feel I am extra sensitive to these scenes. I don't want anything to do with them, unless I'm in that zone I referred to earlier. I went to a movie at the theater the other night with my best friend, who isn't LDS, and I could tell a sex scene was coming up. I closed my eyes before any clothes were even removed and didn't open them till the music changed. I know the best thing to do would be to avoid these movies altogether, but I'm happy with my choice to close my eyes- it's not a choice I would have made in the recent past.
Anyway, back to movie night. I didn't close my eyes there. They were all faithful LDS women like me and some were saying the scene wasn't "that bad." If my best friend had looked over at me during that scene in the theater, I know she would have just attributed it to my weird Mormon beliefs. But if those faithful LDS women saw me closing my eyes, or leaving, what would they think? It's strange that it's so much more difficult to leave or look away when you're with people who share your standards. I did spend a lot of time looking at my phone rather than the TV, though. I really don't like that movie, at all. Anyway. I've seen the movie several times (it's my previously mentioned best friend's favorite movie) and before, the sex scenes didn't bother me. Now, I find them insulting, offensive, and highly distracting to my goals.
Except, I stayed. Next time will be different. I have run through scenarios in my head and I know how I'll handle them in the future.
Isn't it interesting how, while in active addiction, we become so desensitized, but then in active recovery, we become hypersensitive? Has anyone else experienced this?
That same night, one of the women there whom I didn't know found out I was divorced. She has been divorced only since a few months ago, and had been married for many years. I felt for her heart and how it must be breaking! We shared some experiences briefly and then she looked at me and said incredulously, "My ex husband is a sex and porn addict" and she may as well have said "My ex husband is a serial killer." Some of the other women present reacted audibly, one of them saying "are you serious?!" I was seriously tempted to respond, "Well so am I!" ha, but that would have been wildly inappropriate. I do not mean to imply that porn and sex addictions are not detrimental to a marriage. I know they are. I am so sorry she had to deal with that as a wife. That level of betrayal is real and so painful, I know. But it made me feel hated, kinda, because so am I. So am I. And that reaction from the other women upset me because I know that in their eyes, my sins are quite nearly on the same plane as murder. And, well, in the scriptures we do, in fact, read that sexual sins are second in seriousness to murder. So there's that.
I don't know what I'm trying to get at. It was just a strange experience. I felt like fingers were pointed at me somehow.
______________________
As I mentioned before, I want to tell the world that I have this addiction, once I get further along in recovery. But, I've been thinking about it, and I realize this will be no small sacrifice. It's highly likely that I will lose friends over this. Some people will lose respect for me. Some will gain respect for me. Some will think I'm stupid for sharing. Some will gossip about me. Some will judge. People I love and admire will react in these ways, I imagine. People I wouldn't expect it from. And that's a risk I need to weigh. I don't need to now, since this is a ways in the future, but it's been on my mind. I believe most will be receptive and gracious. But some will simply be judgmental. And I'll have to be ready to accept that. And I will accept it because I know that if I can help just one sister, it will all be worth it.
_____________________
Lately, I have been mentally focusing on how my addiction affects my family. It's interesting how things have come into my life to probe me to consider this. My kids don't know about it, to my knowledge. My kids have never "caught" me, to my knowledge. But... This last week, I've been really thinking that it must affect my family in ways I can't see.
A fellow blogger invited me to read her blog. She's not an addict, but a spouse of an addict. I have never read those blogs because I have felt they don't apply to me. I am not married. I am not hurting a spouse. But her blog humbled me so much. I saw how someone's actions, similar to the actions of my past, affect so deeply another human being.
Then, it all came to a head tonight. I saw, first hand, directly, how my addiction is affecting my children. It broke my heart. I spent hours in sorrowful study of things of the Spirit. I needed the Spirit in this home. My wise sponsor told me, after I texted and explained to her the experience, ". . . . remember that when you view or act out you are inviting those types of spirits into your home. They will whisper to your kids the same messages they whisper to you."
When I read that, I may has well have been knocked over by moving vehicle. It hit me. I am hurting my children. I am inviting harm upon them when I engage in this stupid addiction. I am responsible for their spiritual well being, and when I am engaged in sin, I put up blocks for their spiritual progression. How dare I? This is legitimate. This is not me beating myself up. This is what it is and it is awful. Repentance is my best friend here, but what about the damage I've already done?
When I'm acting out, the Spirit flees. I am the head of this household. I am in charge of what comes in and what doesn't. When I invite evil in, the evil doesn't come and rest in my heart and leave my children alone. No. It comes into my home, where my children live.
I'm so glad she told me that. I am realizing a new level of responsibility. Maybe I should have seen it before, but I didn't. Maybe I wasn't ready to. Oh, my sweet babies, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.
God, help me protect them.
Before I realized the power this addiction had in my life, I would watch these types of scenes and think nothing of them. I had become so desensitized by the media and entertainment! Now, I'm quite the opposite. In active and determined recovery, I feel I am extra sensitive to these scenes. I don't want anything to do with them, unless I'm in that zone I referred to earlier. I went to a movie at the theater the other night with my best friend, who isn't LDS, and I could tell a sex scene was coming up. I closed my eyes before any clothes were even removed and didn't open them till the music changed. I know the best thing to do would be to avoid these movies altogether, but I'm happy with my choice to close my eyes- it's not a choice I would have made in the recent past.
Anyway, back to movie night. I didn't close my eyes there. They were all faithful LDS women like me and some were saying the scene wasn't "that bad." If my best friend had looked over at me during that scene in the theater, I know she would have just attributed it to my weird Mormon beliefs. But if those faithful LDS women saw me closing my eyes, or leaving, what would they think? It's strange that it's so much more difficult to leave or look away when you're with people who share your standards. I did spend a lot of time looking at my phone rather than the TV, though. I really don't like that movie, at all. Anyway. I've seen the movie several times (it's my previously mentioned best friend's favorite movie) and before, the sex scenes didn't bother me. Now, I find them insulting, offensive, and highly distracting to my goals.
Except, I stayed. Next time will be different. I have run through scenarios in my head and I know how I'll handle them in the future.
Isn't it interesting how, while in active addiction, we become so desensitized, but then in active recovery, we become hypersensitive? Has anyone else experienced this?
That same night, one of the women there whom I didn't know found out I was divorced. She has been divorced only since a few months ago, and had been married for many years. I felt for her heart and how it must be breaking! We shared some experiences briefly and then she looked at me and said incredulously, "My ex husband is a sex and porn addict" and she may as well have said "My ex husband is a serial killer." Some of the other women present reacted audibly, one of them saying "are you serious?!" I was seriously tempted to respond, "Well so am I!" ha, but that would have been wildly inappropriate. I do not mean to imply that porn and sex addictions are not detrimental to a marriage. I know they are. I am so sorry she had to deal with that as a wife. That level of betrayal is real and so painful, I know. But it made me feel hated, kinda, because so am I. So am I. And that reaction from the other women upset me because I know that in their eyes, my sins are quite nearly on the same plane as murder. And, well, in the scriptures we do, in fact, read that sexual sins are second in seriousness to murder. So there's that.
I don't know what I'm trying to get at. It was just a strange experience. I felt like fingers were pointed at me somehow.
______________________
As I mentioned before, I want to tell the world that I have this addiction, once I get further along in recovery. But, I've been thinking about it, and I realize this will be no small sacrifice. It's highly likely that I will lose friends over this. Some people will lose respect for me. Some will gain respect for me. Some will think I'm stupid for sharing. Some will gossip about me. Some will judge. People I love and admire will react in these ways, I imagine. People I wouldn't expect it from. And that's a risk I need to weigh. I don't need to now, since this is a ways in the future, but it's been on my mind. I believe most will be receptive and gracious. But some will simply be judgmental. And I'll have to be ready to accept that. And I will accept it because I know that if I can help just one sister, it will all be worth it.
_____________________
Lately, I have been mentally focusing on how my addiction affects my family. It's interesting how things have come into my life to probe me to consider this. My kids don't know about it, to my knowledge. My kids have never "caught" me, to my knowledge. But... This last week, I've been really thinking that it must affect my family in ways I can't see.
A fellow blogger invited me to read her blog. She's not an addict, but a spouse of an addict. I have never read those blogs because I have felt they don't apply to me. I am not married. I am not hurting a spouse. But her blog humbled me so much. I saw how someone's actions, similar to the actions of my past, affect so deeply another human being.
Then, it all came to a head tonight. I saw, first hand, directly, how my addiction is affecting my children. It broke my heart. I spent hours in sorrowful study of things of the Spirit. I needed the Spirit in this home. My wise sponsor told me, after I texted and explained to her the experience, ". . . . remember that when you view or act out you are inviting those types of spirits into your home. They will whisper to your kids the same messages they whisper to you."
When I read that, I may has well have been knocked over by moving vehicle. It hit me. I am hurting my children. I am inviting harm upon them when I engage in this stupid addiction. I am responsible for their spiritual well being, and when I am engaged in sin, I put up blocks for their spiritual progression. How dare I? This is legitimate. This is not me beating myself up. This is what it is and it is awful. Repentance is my best friend here, but what about the damage I've already done?
When I'm acting out, the Spirit flees. I am the head of this household. I am in charge of what comes in and what doesn't. When I invite evil in, the evil doesn't come and rest in my heart and leave my children alone. No. It comes into my home, where my children live.
I'm so glad she told me that. I am realizing a new level of responsibility. Maybe I should have seen it before, but I didn't. Maybe I wasn't ready to. Oh, my sweet babies, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.
God, help me protect them.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Codependency
The term "codependent" used to refer to spouses of alcoholics. As I understand, the term was first introduced in the AA book. Now, it encompasses much more. I feel that this article does a great job explaining it. Read it and see if YOU'RE codependent.
When I was married, and before, I was completely codependent. I needed to be liked in order to feel like I was worth anything. I needed to be liked by my husband, or I wasn't worth anything. I sacrificed my own happiness, my morals, and my beliefs to make and keep him happy. He is a sociopath, and he seeks out relationships with people like me. I fed his ego, willingly, and he expected that and made sure I felt like crap if and when I acted as if my feelings mattered also. When that happened, I would end up being the one to apologize just to get him to calm down.
After four years of emotional abuse, I couldn't handle it anymore and began calling him out on his lies. I stopped pretending to believe them. I demanded respect. So he found someone else (and thank goodness).
Now, six years later, I am stronger. I believed that I had completely shed my codependent traits. I have healthy relationships now, equal relationships, which I don't have to sacrifice who I am in order to maintain. But, making friends has always been difficult for me in adulthood. And I just realized why.
It's because I'm still a freaking codependent, in many ways! It's because I know subconsciously that if I get close to someone, I will need them to validate me and assure me and STAY MY FRIEND BY MY TERMS or I will FREAK OUT!
So. It's much, much easier to NOT have friends. Because then I won't go all psycho on them and put these ridiculous expectations on the relationship.
I have been getting closer to a new friend and I thought I was doing everything right and that it was a healthy relationship. He's a wonderful person (and wouldn't ever be a romantic interest, fyi) and a wonderful father and a wonderful friend. I have been keeping him at a safe distance, not really letting him in fully because my subconscious mind was smarter than me. But then I let him in just a little further and now I'm all freaked out that he won't like me anymore, that he will think I'm nuts, that he will judge me, etc. It's stupid because A. he's not like that and I know that, and B. So what if he does? I don't NEED him to like me. I don't NEED his approval. He isn't my ticket to happiness. What's the big deal?
I'm very sad to learn this about myself. I thought I was over this, but I have just been keeping it at bay by not letting people in.
Now I'm all depressed and thinking there's no way I'll ever be married as long as I'm like this, and discouraged about how many issues I have to work through in order to be a whole person.
Hey, you know what? Oh well! This doesn't make me less human. This isn't insurmountable! I can overcome this, too. Tomorrow's a new day.
When I was married, and before, I was completely codependent. I needed to be liked in order to feel like I was worth anything. I needed to be liked by my husband, or I wasn't worth anything. I sacrificed my own happiness, my morals, and my beliefs to make and keep him happy. He is a sociopath, and he seeks out relationships with people like me. I fed his ego, willingly, and he expected that and made sure I felt like crap if and when I acted as if my feelings mattered also. When that happened, I would end up being the one to apologize just to get him to calm down.
After four years of emotional abuse, I couldn't handle it anymore and began calling him out on his lies. I stopped pretending to believe them. I demanded respect. So he found someone else (and thank goodness).
Now, six years later, I am stronger. I believed that I had completely shed my codependent traits. I have healthy relationships now, equal relationships, which I don't have to sacrifice who I am in order to maintain. But, making friends has always been difficult for me in adulthood. And I just realized why.
It's because I'm still a freaking codependent, in many ways! It's because I know subconsciously that if I get close to someone, I will need them to validate me and assure me and STAY MY FRIEND BY MY TERMS or I will FREAK OUT!
So. It's much, much easier to NOT have friends. Because then I won't go all psycho on them and put these ridiculous expectations on the relationship.
I have been getting closer to a new friend and I thought I was doing everything right and that it was a healthy relationship. He's a wonderful person (and wouldn't ever be a romantic interest, fyi) and a wonderful father and a wonderful friend. I have been keeping him at a safe distance, not really letting him in fully because my subconscious mind was smarter than me. But then I let him in just a little further and now I'm all freaked out that he won't like me anymore, that he will think I'm nuts, that he will judge me, etc. It's stupid because A. he's not like that and I know that, and B. So what if he does? I don't NEED him to like me. I don't NEED his approval. He isn't my ticket to happiness. What's the big deal?
I'm very sad to learn this about myself. I thought I was over this, but I have just been keeping it at bay by not letting people in.
Now I'm all depressed and thinking there's no way I'll ever be married as long as I'm like this, and discouraged about how many issues I have to work through in order to be a whole person.
Hey, you know what? Oh well! This doesn't make me less human. This isn't insurmountable! I can overcome this, too. Tomorrow's a new day.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Les Mis: An Addict's Story
Before my last slip, earlier in that same day, someone said something to me about "always" or "never." I can't remember what, exactly. It was about my addiction, and she said something to the effect that I'll "always" have to fight it. It made me so mad! I wasn't mad at her, necessarily, but at the idea that anything can "always" be a problem. I have refused to believe it all this time.
I'm an incurable optimist. I like this about myself. I'm not always in a state of optimism, but I usually don't stay away from optimism long. And, so, statements like "once an addict, always an addict," and "this will always be a problem for you," and "you'll never be totally free of this addiction," upset me because they couldn't be true, to me. I couldn't handle the idea of always being in some way a slave to this addiction my whole life. If that's true, then why even try to get out of it? I refused to believe such statements. No, I will NOT always be an addict, thank you very much! And I didn't appreciate people implying that I will be. Even at APR meetings, when people would say something to that effect, I would mentally roll my eyes and know that they were wrong.
I don't like never/always statements at all. Especially in regards to me and my addiction.
So I kinda carried around that always statement and my irritation with it over the next few days. Then, I listened to the Les Mis soundtrack. As I listened, I found more and more elements of Jean Valjean's story that fit so well with mine. Please allow me to tell you the story from this addict's perspective.
First, he's in prison for 19 years. Nineteen years ago is when I first began participating in the sins that would lead me into addiction. I don't know any addict who would say that addiction is not like prison. So, I have been in prison for 19 years, also. Valjean stole a loaf of bread for a starving child. I, as a mostly innocent child, experimented with behaviors that I didn't even realize were wrong. Neither of our initial "crimes" were enough to warrant a 19-year sentence. Valjean tried to escape several times and by so doing added time to his original sentence. I tried to escape the normal hardships of life, and by so doing strengthened my addiction. Valjean is finally released from prison. Javert is the merciless investigator who resolves to catch Valjean in a crime and bring him back to prison as a slave. Javert is like Satan. Javert sees Valjean as a prisoner number, 24601, not as a human being. And that's all we are to Satan. He doesn't care about us. His one goal is to make us miserable, eternally miserable.
Very, very shortly after Valjean is freed, he steals again! How many times have I returned to my sins after being forgiven? He is caught and returned to the owner of the stolen silver, which owner tells the police that, actually, he gave Valjean the silver. And he even gives him some more silver. By telling the police Valjean did not steal the silver, he saves Valjean from returning to prison.
This incredible act of love and mercy is so very like how my Jesus has delivered me from darkness, and healed me.
Valjean chooses to be healed by this love, and totally changes his life and does good. This is what I am in the process of doing now. How difficult it must have been for him to change!
Here's where the soundtrack really taught me something. Javert never, and I mean never, stops hunting Valjean, not until the day he dies. Valjean has moments of peace and joy in his life, but it is always ever so slightly tainted by Javert being after him, except when his life was hugely impacted by Javert finding him again. And again, and again.
Valjean, though he repented and chose a life of service and love, never escaped his past. Never. Javert was always in his mind. Valjean never gave up on pursuing his own freedom, but Javert never gave up on ending Valjean's freedom. And so it hit me that Satan will never give up. This addiction has been a part of my life for nearly 20 years-- 2/3 of my life! Of course it's how he'll try to get me back to prison as his slave! It has worked for 20 years! I will always have to deal with this. And not because I'm being a pessimist, but because Satan is powerful. He wants prisoner number 24601 in his custody, simply to make me miserable. He will never give up, and so I will always have to work at keeping this addiction out of my life.
There is a fine line between optimism and denial...
Coming to accept this has been a long road. But it's liberating! I will always be an addict, and that's okay. I can be okay with that. I hope I will always be an addict in active recovery.
I thank God for teaching me through inspired music and literature. I thank Victor Hugo for being a literary genius.
How do you like my blog's facelift, eh? I'm particularly fond of the new title. Offering my heart is how I will remain in recovery. And in this blog, I share with you pieces of my heart. So there you go.
I'm an incurable optimist. I like this about myself. I'm not always in a state of optimism, but I usually don't stay away from optimism long. And, so, statements like "once an addict, always an addict," and "this will always be a problem for you," and "you'll never be totally free of this addiction," upset me because they couldn't be true, to me. I couldn't handle the idea of always being in some way a slave to this addiction my whole life. If that's true, then why even try to get out of it? I refused to believe such statements. No, I will NOT always be an addict, thank you very much! And I didn't appreciate people implying that I will be. Even at APR meetings, when people would say something to that effect, I would mentally roll my eyes and know that they were wrong.
I don't like never/always statements at all. Especially in regards to me and my addiction.
So I kinda carried around that always statement and my irritation with it over the next few days. Then, I listened to the Les Mis soundtrack. As I listened, I found more and more elements of Jean Valjean's story that fit so well with mine. Please allow me to tell you the story from this addict's perspective.
First, he's in prison for 19 years. Nineteen years ago is when I first began participating in the sins that would lead me into addiction. I don't know any addict who would say that addiction is not like prison. So, I have been in prison for 19 years, also. Valjean stole a loaf of bread for a starving child. I, as a mostly innocent child, experimented with behaviors that I didn't even realize were wrong. Neither of our initial "crimes" were enough to warrant a 19-year sentence. Valjean tried to escape several times and by so doing added time to his original sentence. I tried to escape the normal hardships of life, and by so doing strengthened my addiction. Valjean is finally released from prison. Javert is the merciless investigator who resolves to catch Valjean in a crime and bring him back to prison as a slave. Javert is like Satan. Javert sees Valjean as a prisoner number, 24601, not as a human being. And that's all we are to Satan. He doesn't care about us. His one goal is to make us miserable, eternally miserable.
Very, very shortly after Valjean is freed, he steals again! How many times have I returned to my sins after being forgiven? He is caught and returned to the owner of the stolen silver, which owner tells the police that, actually, he gave Valjean the silver. And he even gives him some more silver. By telling the police Valjean did not steal the silver, he saves Valjean from returning to prison.
This incredible act of love and mercy is so very like how my Jesus has delivered me from darkness, and healed me.
Valjean chooses to be healed by this love, and totally changes his life and does good. This is what I am in the process of doing now. How difficult it must have been for him to change!
Here's where the soundtrack really taught me something. Javert never, and I mean never, stops hunting Valjean, not until the day he dies. Valjean has moments of peace and joy in his life, but it is always ever so slightly tainted by Javert being after him, except when his life was hugely impacted by Javert finding him again. And again, and again.
Valjean, though he repented and chose a life of service and love, never escaped his past. Never. Javert was always in his mind. Valjean never gave up on pursuing his own freedom, but Javert never gave up on ending Valjean's freedom. And so it hit me that Satan will never give up. This addiction has been a part of my life for nearly 20 years-- 2/3 of my life! Of course it's how he'll try to get me back to prison as his slave! It has worked for 20 years! I will always have to deal with this. And not because I'm being a pessimist, but because Satan is powerful. He wants prisoner number 24601 in his custody, simply to make me miserable. He will never give up, and so I will always have to work at keeping this addiction out of my life.
There is a fine line between optimism and denial...
Coming to accept this has been a long road. But it's liberating! I will always be an addict, and that's okay. I can be okay with that. I hope I will always be an addict in active recovery.
I thank God for teaching me through inspired music and literature. I thank Victor Hugo for being a literary genius.
How do you like my blog's facelift, eh? I'm particularly fond of the new title. Offering my heart is how I will remain in recovery. And in this blog, I share with you pieces of my heart. So there you go.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Not Special Enough/My name is Stephanie
I believe this is a common self perception among addicts- that we're not special enough. Conversely, I believe many of us often also think that we're more special than others, that we deserve more slack, that we need more attention. I'm not writing about that today, though.
I have this feeling that I need to talk to my stake president. It seems so dumb to me! Why does he need to know? Is this all just me, trying to find another way to get attention? Or is it the Spirit? I have been feeling this way for several months now. I'm afraid that I'm ignoring the Spirit. But, seriously, the stake president? He's so busy! Why would he want to hear from me, when there are others in the stake with real issues? Why should I talk to him when I already have my wonderful bishop? Won't he think I'm strange to make an appointment with him? Won't I be interrupting his very busy schedule? What if he thinks I'm just wasting his time? What good could talking to him possibly do either of us? Besides, I'm not special enough to talk to the stake president.
I'm just me. Just the Relief Society pianist for one of his wards. Just a music teacher at an elementary school. I can't possibly be worth his time.
When I put it out in words like that, it hits me that I'm being ridiculous. Of course I'm worth his time! I'm worth God's time, right?
I've thought this way for many years. I find it an incredible honor whenever anyone expresses interest in spending time with me. I usually think they're lying or just trying to be nice. Just recently, a friend of mine knew that I was going to attend a musical in my area next month. She was going too, and said she wanted to know what day I was going so we could go together. This stuff just doesn't make sense to me, so I was about to believe that she was just trying to reach out and cross her daily service task off her list, but then I considered the possibility that she might actually want to be with me.
I don't know if this is as crazy and self-loathing as it sounds. I don't doubt that she likes me. I can understand that people like me. But it's very difficult for me to grasp when someone wants to hang out with me. This has caused issues with my best friend and me because I sometimes make myself scarce, thinking I'm doing her a favor, but she actually wants to spend time with me! Honestly, how could I be special enough to earn time with her?
Wow, this sounds like a major inferiority complex. Maybe it's worse than I think. I have a few theories why I'm this way. Many incidents of childhood taught me that the only thing I was good for to my peers was as an object to make fun of. I was also married to man who would rather do anything than spend a dedicated moment on me. Six years after the divorce, and that still hurts. I wanted to be special enough to my husband, and never was.
Another theory is maybe I'm not special enough to myself. Maybe I don't get why people want to be with me because I don't really want to be with myself. That would make more sense if it was true. I actually like my personality. I think I would hang out with me if I was someone else! I'm super fun! Anyway. Enough self-analysis.
I finally realized it's a lie. I am too special enough to talk to my stake president. It was so hard to for me to ask my bishop if I could see him regularly every two weeks to help me with recovery, because I didn't want to take his precious time. And I wasn't special enough to fill that time. But that's a lie. And it's pride. Who do I think I am?! I am a member of my bishop's ward, and therefore, I am entitled to his time and attention. In my sick mind, every other member of the ward is "special enough" to seek whatever help they need from him. Every member but me. Really? No. Stop being so selfish, Erin!
And if I was talking to a sister in my ward who said she felt like she needed to talk to the Stake President but didn't feel special enough, I would tell her something like this: "What do you mean, not special enough? Are you kidding me? Of course you are! If you feel like you need to talk to him, then set up that appointment. I'll help you. He's not going to send you away. He's not going to think you're stupid or annoying. He loves you simply because you're a member of his stake. What will it hurt? Just do it."
So why can't I tell me that?
I'm special enough for my bishop's time. I'm special enough for my stake president's time. I'm special enough for Jesus' Atonement.
That I'm not special enough is another lie of Satan that is very, very effective with me because it's so silent and subtle that I barely notice it's there. And it feels like I'm being humble, when really I'm being very prideful for letting something like that get in the way of accessing tools for my recovery. Jesus is my goal, and I will stop using "I'm not special enough" as an excuse to deviate slightly from my goal. I will consciously make an effort to stop those prideful, lying thoughts as soon as I notice them. I can't let that lie halt my recovery any further.
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So now I'm on day 5. I really, really, really, really, really wish I hadn't slipped the other night. I didn't have to! It wasn't worth it. It wasn't anything I hoped it would be. It didn't fill the holes in my heart that it promised to fill. It wasn't very exciting. I wish I could appear to the March 2nd Me and beg her to go do something else. I wish I could tell her I would be really sad if I can't go to the temple this month. I wish I could tell her God can save her if she'd just call out to Him again!
---------------
I will tell you who I am. I'm not afraid anymore. My name isn't Erin. I chose the name Erin because Erin means "peace," and that's what I seek. When I first started this blog, it was called "Erin's Quest for Peace." Anyway. My name is Stephanie, and I'm recovering from sexual addictions. I live in Nampa, Idaho, which is about 25 miles or so from Boise (I honestly don't know which direction- I suck at directions! ha). This is my home, and I love it with all my heart. I grew up in Taylorsville, Utah, which is not my home, and which I do not love with all my heart. Haha. I have also lived in Tooele and Ephraim (both Utah), and Rexburg, Idaho. Oh, and Mt Vernon, Washington! You know, just in case any of you readers can relate. :)
I have two kids. My daughter is 9 and my son just turned 8. They are both geniuses, and they are both incredible. I've been single for six years this month and I'm happy with being single, but I really want to be married. I just turned 32 last month. I love to play the piano and sing, and I love to write.
I am a music teacher at a local elementary school. It's a most fulfilling job. I love my sweet students, and I love music, and I love my job. My Father blesses me so richly every day of my charmed life. I have a wonderful life and I can't wait till I'm able to enjoy it fully by getting this horrible addiction out of my life.
God bless. :)
I have this feeling that I need to talk to my stake president. It seems so dumb to me! Why does he need to know? Is this all just me, trying to find another way to get attention? Or is it the Spirit? I have been feeling this way for several months now. I'm afraid that I'm ignoring the Spirit. But, seriously, the stake president? He's so busy! Why would he want to hear from me, when there are others in the stake with real issues? Why should I talk to him when I already have my wonderful bishop? Won't he think I'm strange to make an appointment with him? Won't I be interrupting his very busy schedule? What if he thinks I'm just wasting his time? What good could talking to him possibly do either of us? Besides, I'm not special enough to talk to the stake president.
I'm just me. Just the Relief Society pianist for one of his wards. Just a music teacher at an elementary school. I can't possibly be worth his time.
When I put it out in words like that, it hits me that I'm being ridiculous. Of course I'm worth his time! I'm worth God's time, right?
I've thought this way for many years. I find it an incredible honor whenever anyone expresses interest in spending time with me. I usually think they're lying or just trying to be nice. Just recently, a friend of mine knew that I was going to attend a musical in my area next month. She was going too, and said she wanted to know what day I was going so we could go together. This stuff just doesn't make sense to me, so I was about to believe that she was just trying to reach out and cross her daily service task off her list, but then I considered the possibility that she might actually want to be with me.
I don't know if this is as crazy and self-loathing as it sounds. I don't doubt that she likes me. I can understand that people like me. But it's very difficult for me to grasp when someone wants to hang out with me. This has caused issues with my best friend and me because I sometimes make myself scarce, thinking I'm doing her a favor, but she actually wants to spend time with me! Honestly, how could I be special enough to earn time with her?
Wow, this sounds like a major inferiority complex. Maybe it's worse than I think. I have a few theories why I'm this way. Many incidents of childhood taught me that the only thing I was good for to my peers was as an object to make fun of. I was also married to man who would rather do anything than spend a dedicated moment on me. Six years after the divorce, and that still hurts. I wanted to be special enough to my husband, and never was.
Another theory is maybe I'm not special enough to myself. Maybe I don't get why people want to be with me because I don't really want to be with myself. That would make more sense if it was true. I actually like my personality. I think I would hang out with me if I was someone else! I'm super fun! Anyway. Enough self-analysis.
I finally realized it's a lie. I am too special enough to talk to my stake president. It was so hard to for me to ask my bishop if I could see him regularly every two weeks to help me with recovery, because I didn't want to take his precious time. And I wasn't special enough to fill that time. But that's a lie. And it's pride. Who do I think I am?! I am a member of my bishop's ward, and therefore, I am entitled to his time and attention. In my sick mind, every other member of the ward is "special enough" to seek whatever help they need from him. Every member but me. Really? No. Stop being so selfish, Erin!
And if I was talking to a sister in my ward who said she felt like she needed to talk to the Stake President but didn't feel special enough, I would tell her something like this: "What do you mean, not special enough? Are you kidding me? Of course you are! If you feel like you need to talk to him, then set up that appointment. I'll help you. He's not going to send you away. He's not going to think you're stupid or annoying. He loves you simply because you're a member of his stake. What will it hurt? Just do it."
So why can't I tell me that?
I'm special enough for my bishop's time. I'm special enough for my stake president's time. I'm special enough for Jesus' Atonement.
That I'm not special enough is another lie of Satan that is very, very effective with me because it's so silent and subtle that I barely notice it's there. And it feels like I'm being humble, when really I'm being very prideful for letting something like that get in the way of accessing tools for my recovery. Jesus is my goal, and I will stop using "I'm not special enough" as an excuse to deviate slightly from my goal. I will consciously make an effort to stop those prideful, lying thoughts as soon as I notice them. I can't let that lie halt my recovery any further.
----------------
So now I'm on day 5. I really, really, really, really, really wish I hadn't slipped the other night. I didn't have to! It wasn't worth it. It wasn't anything I hoped it would be. It didn't fill the holes in my heart that it promised to fill. It wasn't very exciting. I wish I could appear to the March 2nd Me and beg her to go do something else. I wish I could tell her I would be really sad if I can't go to the temple this month. I wish I could tell her God can save her if she'd just call out to Him again!
---------------
I will tell you who I am. I'm not afraid anymore. My name isn't Erin. I chose the name Erin because Erin means "peace," and that's what I seek. When I first started this blog, it was called "Erin's Quest for Peace." Anyway. My name is Stephanie, and I'm recovering from sexual addictions. I live in Nampa, Idaho, which is about 25 miles or so from Boise (I honestly don't know which direction- I suck at directions! ha). This is my home, and I love it with all my heart. I grew up in Taylorsville, Utah, which is not my home, and which I do not love with all my heart. Haha. I have also lived in Tooele and Ephraim (both Utah), and Rexburg, Idaho. Oh, and Mt Vernon, Washington! You know, just in case any of you readers can relate. :)
I have two kids. My daughter is 9 and my son just turned 8. They are both geniuses, and they are both incredible. I've been single for six years this month and I'm happy with being single, but I really want to be married. I just turned 32 last month. I love to play the piano and sing, and I love to write.
I am a music teacher at a local elementary school. It's a most fulfilling job. I love my sweet students, and I love music, and I love my job. My Father blesses me so richly every day of my charmed life. I have a wonderful life and I can't wait till I'm able to enjoy it fully by getting this horrible addiction out of my life.
God bless. :)
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Charted Territories
Yesterday was day 78! I had been on new ground for nearly 20 days. I had never been clean that long since I started counting. I dare say I hadn't been clean that long in six years.
Today would have been day 79, another day in new territories.
Today is day 1. Ah. This is familiar terrain.
I have many mixed emotions, all of which I am going to try to capture. I want to remember everything about this. Forgive me if this is too detailed or too open. Forgive me if it's too anything. This is going to be more for me than for you, but in the event anyone can learn or relate, I publish it.
I'm afraid of judgment. I am afraid that you will judge me. But it doesn't matter if you do- not for me. It's not even my business what you do with your thoughts. I'm trying not to care what you'll think.
I'm angry that all those people who told me "if you slip...." were right, those statements that I wrote about here. I did slip. I wanted to prove them wrong. But they were right.
I wasn't going to write about it. I was going to maybe wait a few weeks before I mentioned it here. No one needs to know. I was going to be late to church today. I was going to mope all day because I deserve misery. I was going to isolate myself. I was going to tell myself that I am worthless and of course I slipped because that's what I'm good at. I was going to hide.
I'm not going to do that. God is still whispering. He's telling me not to do that. I don't have to make myself any extra consequences. I only have to take responsibility for the natural consequences and work past them and move forward. So I'm trying to be positive.
Here's the good:
-I MADE IT 78 DAYS!! That is nothing to sneeze at! That is amazing! For 78 days, I trusted God enough to allow Him to lead me through it. For 78 days, I said no to the countless temptations that flew at me. For 78 days, I chose freedom. I made it longer than I ever have before, carried by the grace of God. I am grateful to my God for that, and I refuse to look at the last 78 days as a waste. No. It was a miracle. It was a period of much learning and growth, and this one slip does not erase what I learned in that time.
-Because of what I learned in that period, I know that today doesn't have be the norm. I know that I don't have to have a full on relapse. In my past, a slip meant a relapse. It would be another few months before I found the strength to embark on another long-ish period of abstinence. That's not going to be the case this time. It doesn't have to be. Because I gave in yesterday, it will be so much easier to also give in today. And tomorrow. But I don't have to! I can make it through this day. Just one day. Just one day at a time, just like before. This slip isn't the end of my recovery; it's a part of it.
-Even though I was divulging last night, I strangely had limits. I mean, my limits should have been much, much tighter. But I didn't throw all my boundaries away. I confess that pornography was a big part of my slip, but I "limited" myself to written porn rather than images or videos for the most part. I'm not saying this is great, but I am saying it could have been worse. I didn't let myself go back to where I left off. I worry that this is hard to read or it's too detailed. It's also hard to write but I do want a record. Maybe I was just justifying it since I wasn't looking at actual human beings-- I mean, I most likely did use that as a justification, but I'm also really really glad I didn't seek out worse things because then I would have felt even worse today than I already do. I didn't allow myself to seek out worse things like I used to do, and that's a good thing. I'm counting it as a good thing. I could also count it as a bad thing because I know if I can limit myself to what porn I use, then I can limit myself to not using porn at all. But here's the thing: it is what it is and it could have been worse, and it's a good thing that it wasn't worse.
-Even though I can't go to the temple this month anymore, I know that that doesn't mean I can't ever go to the temple. Last time I had a temple goal and broke it, I totally gave up on the idea of ever making it to the temple! I'm not doing that this time. It's still a goal. And that's a good thing.
-I'm still here. I'm still in this. I'm still progressing in the big picture.
Here's the bad:
-Yesterday was a very special, spiritual day for my family. A family member was baptized. That's the day I chose to slip? I'm disgusted at myself. I should have been on a spiritual high. My thoughts should have been on things of the Spirit. I can't believe I let the Adversary in on such a great day.
-I can't take the Sacrament today. That fact alone brings sorrow unmeasured.
-It's day 1!
-I have to face my bishop today. He was so proud of me. He had such confidence in me.
The biggest truth here is that this sucks. This is a bad day. I am not free. No one really knows me and I'm all alone. That's how it feels. That's how it's been feeling and that feeling contributed to my weakness. I look back to see where this started and I think it started weeks ago. Little lies here and there, planted into my subconscious where I can't even see them till it's too late. Satan doesn't play fair, you guys. He is not a graceful loser. He kicks his victims while they're down. He kills his victims while they're down. He's not a lighted match that will burn your hand if you touch it. He's a raging and endless massive forest fire that will devour your soul if you so much as look at it.
I woke this morning wishing I could cease to exist. But there's no such thing.
And God has granted me another day to live and to repent. He is merciful. I will turn to Him. I will move forward. I will strive to ensure that this slip will remain as such and not turn into a relapse. Will you pray for me? I know you have your own battles, but I could use all the help I can get.
Sigh. Yesterday I had access to help that I ignored. You know-- that reminds me of something else I was going to here note. I had forgotten how powerful that zone is. I can't think straight in it! It took almost no time at all from idea to thought to desire, and once I was in the desire mode, I couldn't get out! Not on my own. I was stuck- even before I typed the first inappropriate search term. It's this horrible zone of darkness and forgetfulness. I could remember that I wanted to go to the temple, but I couldn't remember why. I could remember that I didn't really want to do this, but I couldn't remember why. I couldn't see! If you're an addict, then I think you know this zone I'm referring to. Once I'm there, I'm gone. It's like I can't really choose anymore. I'm not just saying that as an excuse-- it's true! It's how it is. It's how addiction works. Nothing makes sense except getting that fix. The trick is to avoid that zone. I know how to do that. I have done it before. I will do it again. But, in that zone-- even before the actual sin-- it's almost hopeless. My brain stops working right. It's like the world disappears and there is only me and my drug and I have to get to it. It's bigger than me. It's bigger than my own power. That zone takes over my choices. My choices get me there, yes. It's like this- it's like a roller coaster. I buy my ticket- my choice. I get in line- my choice. I stay in line- my choice. As I get closer to the roller coaster car, my choices are to keep going with the line of people, or turn back and try to get away from the throng of excited roller coaster patrons. Turning back would be difficult. But it's still possible. But it doesn't make sense at this point to turn around. I get in the roller coaster- still my choice but it feels like I don't have another option at this point. Then the bars snap into place and I'm stuck. I haven't even begun the ride yet, but I'm stuck and I have no more power to choose-- even though the ride is still stopped and nothing has happened yet. That's what it's like. There's time before acting out that I have lost power to stop it from happening. Sometimes it's a long time. Sometimes it's not. Then the ride begins and the whole time I'm thinking, why am I doing this? I hate roller coasters! I'm going to be sick afterward. I wish I wasn't doing this. Why am I doing this? I don't want to do this! And then after the ride, I'm throwing up and crying and feeling horrible, knowing it wasn't worth it, cursing myself for buying that stupid ticket again. Buying the ticket was really my last choice. The rest was going with the flow.
Again I'm not making an excuse. I'm trying to make it make sense for the non-addict. I take full responsibility for making that decision- for buying that ticket. Sometimes it's so hard to think of the moment when I actually purchased the ticket. Sometimes I buy it while buying other tickets for rides that are good and worthy, and I hardly realize it, and I put it in my pocket thinking I won't be using it, and I walk around the park doing good things till I remember the ticket is there in my pocket. Oh yeah, I gotta throw that away. But I get distracted and forget the ticket and forget to throw it away. But I'm fine, you know. I'm doing great. Then I walk by the roller coaster and it looks so fun and I only remember the thrill of the descent and forget the illness after the ride. But then I shake my head and continue on my way. Sometimes it takes a long time from the moment I purchase the ticket to the moment I board the ride, and it's hard to remember when I actually got it.
I don't really think that life is like an amusement park, and I actually love roller coasters. But I don't remember the exact moment I bought this ticket. Again, I think it was a few weeks ago.
Today is the Sabbath. Today I am alive and healthy and have much to be grateful for. Today I will choose repentance.
Thanks for reading. Please don't judge. :)
Today would have been day 79, another day in new territories.
Today is day 1. Ah. This is familiar terrain.
I have many mixed emotions, all of which I am going to try to capture. I want to remember everything about this. Forgive me if this is too detailed or too open. Forgive me if it's too anything. This is going to be more for me than for you, but in the event anyone can learn or relate, I publish it.
I'm afraid of judgment. I am afraid that you will judge me. But it doesn't matter if you do- not for me. It's not even my business what you do with your thoughts. I'm trying not to care what you'll think.
I'm angry that all those people who told me "if you slip...." were right, those statements that I wrote about here. I did slip. I wanted to prove them wrong. But they were right.
I wasn't going to write about it. I was going to maybe wait a few weeks before I mentioned it here. No one needs to know. I was going to be late to church today. I was going to mope all day because I deserve misery. I was going to isolate myself. I was going to tell myself that I am worthless and of course I slipped because that's what I'm good at. I was going to hide.
I'm not going to do that. God is still whispering. He's telling me not to do that. I don't have to make myself any extra consequences. I only have to take responsibility for the natural consequences and work past them and move forward. So I'm trying to be positive.
Here's the good:
-I MADE IT 78 DAYS!! That is nothing to sneeze at! That is amazing! For 78 days, I trusted God enough to allow Him to lead me through it. For 78 days, I said no to the countless temptations that flew at me. For 78 days, I chose freedom. I made it longer than I ever have before, carried by the grace of God. I am grateful to my God for that, and I refuse to look at the last 78 days as a waste. No. It was a miracle. It was a period of much learning and growth, and this one slip does not erase what I learned in that time.
-Because of what I learned in that period, I know that today doesn't have be the norm. I know that I don't have to have a full on relapse. In my past, a slip meant a relapse. It would be another few months before I found the strength to embark on another long-ish period of abstinence. That's not going to be the case this time. It doesn't have to be. Because I gave in yesterday, it will be so much easier to also give in today. And tomorrow. But I don't have to! I can make it through this day. Just one day. Just one day at a time, just like before. This slip isn't the end of my recovery; it's a part of it.
-Even though I was divulging last night, I strangely had limits. I mean, my limits should have been much, much tighter. But I didn't throw all my boundaries away. I confess that pornography was a big part of my slip, but I "limited" myself to written porn rather than images or videos for the most part. I'm not saying this is great, but I am saying it could have been worse. I didn't let myself go back to where I left off. I worry that this is hard to read or it's too detailed. It's also hard to write but I do want a record. Maybe I was just justifying it since I wasn't looking at actual human beings-- I mean, I most likely did use that as a justification, but I'm also really really glad I didn't seek out worse things because then I would have felt even worse today than I already do. I didn't allow myself to seek out worse things like I used to do, and that's a good thing. I'm counting it as a good thing. I could also count it as a bad thing because I know if I can limit myself to what porn I use, then I can limit myself to not using porn at all. But here's the thing: it is what it is and it could have been worse, and it's a good thing that it wasn't worse.
-Even though I can't go to the temple this month anymore, I know that that doesn't mean I can't ever go to the temple. Last time I had a temple goal and broke it, I totally gave up on the idea of ever making it to the temple! I'm not doing that this time. It's still a goal. And that's a good thing.
-I'm still here. I'm still in this. I'm still progressing in the big picture.
Here's the bad:
-Yesterday was a very special, spiritual day for my family. A family member was baptized. That's the day I chose to slip? I'm disgusted at myself. I should have been on a spiritual high. My thoughts should have been on things of the Spirit. I can't believe I let the Adversary in on such a great day.
-I can't take the Sacrament today. That fact alone brings sorrow unmeasured.
-It's day 1!
-I have to face my bishop today. He was so proud of me. He had such confidence in me.
The biggest truth here is that this sucks. This is a bad day. I am not free. No one really knows me and I'm all alone. That's how it feels. That's how it's been feeling and that feeling contributed to my weakness. I look back to see where this started and I think it started weeks ago. Little lies here and there, planted into my subconscious where I can't even see them till it's too late. Satan doesn't play fair, you guys. He is not a graceful loser. He kicks his victims while they're down. He kills his victims while they're down. He's not a lighted match that will burn your hand if you touch it. He's a raging and endless massive forest fire that will devour your soul if you so much as look at it.
I woke this morning wishing I could cease to exist. But there's no such thing.
And God has granted me another day to live and to repent. He is merciful. I will turn to Him. I will move forward. I will strive to ensure that this slip will remain as such and not turn into a relapse. Will you pray for me? I know you have your own battles, but I could use all the help I can get.
Sigh. Yesterday I had access to help that I ignored. You know-- that reminds me of something else I was going to here note. I had forgotten how powerful that zone is. I can't think straight in it! It took almost no time at all from idea to thought to desire, and once I was in the desire mode, I couldn't get out! Not on my own. I was stuck- even before I typed the first inappropriate search term. It's this horrible zone of darkness and forgetfulness. I could remember that I wanted to go to the temple, but I couldn't remember why. I could remember that I didn't really want to do this, but I couldn't remember why. I couldn't see! If you're an addict, then I think you know this zone I'm referring to. Once I'm there, I'm gone. It's like I can't really choose anymore. I'm not just saying that as an excuse-- it's true! It's how it is. It's how addiction works. Nothing makes sense except getting that fix. The trick is to avoid that zone. I know how to do that. I have done it before. I will do it again. But, in that zone-- even before the actual sin-- it's almost hopeless. My brain stops working right. It's like the world disappears and there is only me and my drug and I have to get to it. It's bigger than me. It's bigger than my own power. That zone takes over my choices. My choices get me there, yes. It's like this- it's like a roller coaster. I buy my ticket- my choice. I get in line- my choice. I stay in line- my choice. As I get closer to the roller coaster car, my choices are to keep going with the line of people, or turn back and try to get away from the throng of excited roller coaster patrons. Turning back would be difficult. But it's still possible. But it doesn't make sense at this point to turn around. I get in the roller coaster- still my choice but it feels like I don't have another option at this point. Then the bars snap into place and I'm stuck. I haven't even begun the ride yet, but I'm stuck and I have no more power to choose-- even though the ride is still stopped and nothing has happened yet. That's what it's like. There's time before acting out that I have lost power to stop it from happening. Sometimes it's a long time. Sometimes it's not. Then the ride begins and the whole time I'm thinking, why am I doing this? I hate roller coasters! I'm going to be sick afterward. I wish I wasn't doing this. Why am I doing this? I don't want to do this! And then after the ride, I'm throwing up and crying and feeling horrible, knowing it wasn't worth it, cursing myself for buying that stupid ticket again. Buying the ticket was really my last choice. The rest was going with the flow.
Again I'm not making an excuse. I'm trying to make it make sense for the non-addict. I take full responsibility for making that decision- for buying that ticket. Sometimes it's so hard to think of the moment when I actually purchased the ticket. Sometimes I buy it while buying other tickets for rides that are good and worthy, and I hardly realize it, and I put it in my pocket thinking I won't be using it, and I walk around the park doing good things till I remember the ticket is there in my pocket. Oh yeah, I gotta throw that away. But I get distracted and forget the ticket and forget to throw it away. But I'm fine, you know. I'm doing great. Then I walk by the roller coaster and it looks so fun and I only remember the thrill of the descent and forget the illness after the ride. But then I shake my head and continue on my way. Sometimes it takes a long time from the moment I purchase the ticket to the moment I board the ride, and it's hard to remember when I actually got it.
I don't really think that life is like an amusement park, and I actually love roller coasters. But I don't remember the exact moment I bought this ticket. Again, I think it was a few weeks ago.
Today is the Sabbath. Today I am alive and healthy and have much to be grateful for. Today I will choose repentance.
Thanks for reading. Please don't judge. :)
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