In Your Face, Marsha!

As you may recall, I named my "addict" Marsha. She came over to play today.

I want to document this victory for my own self. I actually sort of doubt it will be very helpful to anyone else, but just in case, I share.

I've been single nearly 8 years. I dated a fellow about 3 years ago for about 3 weeks, but other than that, nothing remotely serious has happened since my divorce. Needless to say, I get very lonely sometimes. I long for the companionship of a worthy, kind man. Sometimes the longing is unbearable.

I've made some very risky, very bad choices with men since my divorce. I've kissed more men after my marriage than before. I have been unable to resist when a kiss becomes an option.

It always feels like kissing will mean I'm loved. It always feels like being sexually desired by someone will mean I'm important.

Only, today I know better.

Knowing better is hard. Knowing better bears with it an annoying responsibility. Knowing better is ultimately freedom.

The security guard at work thinks I'm cute. "I see you come in," he said the other day, "and I think you're so cute. I'm . . . I'm not very good at this. I hope I'm not being creepy. But I'd like to get to know you better. So . . . here's my number, and you can text me. If you want."

It made my day. Me? Cute? HECK YES! YES YES YES! A MAN THINKS I'M CUTE!

Naturally, I texted him a few hours later, on my first break.

We chatted a little about relatively normal stuff. We discovered we have a 7 year age difference; he being younger. He thought I was 25! YES YES YES! I'll be 34 next month, so, that was fun. He said he would like to still get to know me. Okay.

Eventually, today, he invited me to see a movie at his house. He said something about "snuggling" and getting to know me better.

Marsha exploded into 40 Marshas doing cartwheels in my head and chest, shouting for joy and glory. The Marshas painted this wonderful picture of cuddling and making out and . . . the game. I was planning a game before I consciously realized it. I would lead him on. I would let him think I was as into him as he seemed to be me, and I would have a manfriend who would hold me and kiss me. Just for a while! Just till I was tired. I knew I could get him to kiss me. I could probably have someone to kiss this very weekend. Easily. I was planning. Plotting. Conniving.

Justifying. Rationalizing. Salivating. I wanted it. So much. I wanted to lean against him while watching a movie. I wanted to stop watching the movie. I imagined what it would be like. I imagined some of the innocent-but-not-really things we might do. So delightful! So nice!

It would be alright. I haven't even kissed a man in over a year. It's high time! It's not like I'm going to sleep with him.

Marsha was thrilled. Finally! Another kiss! For me! I'm important!

Oh, dear. I am so broken. I am so broken because it really does truly really feel like being in the arms of a man, and being kissed by a man, is the same thing as having worth. But, as I said, I know better. So when the Marshas kept on screaming at me that this was the best choice- to plan and conspire and lead Security Guard along till I was ready to discard him, or at least just for one night enjoy his physical presence- I actually heard their lies as lies. I was actually able to envision the truth. If I go to his house and watch a movie, I will kiss him. And, instead of that being incredibly exciting, it's dangerous. I know me! I know I will get carried away at the first opportunity! I know I will shut off my mind and throw my judgment out the car window on the way to his place. I know I will not be able to think right. I know I will make choices that I will deeply regret in the future.

[This future thinking stuff is so foreign. It feels amazing and terrifying.]

Then I thought about my children. I thought about my temple recommend. I even thought about my reputation! I thought about him and his worth, and I thought he deserved respect. I remembered that my body is a masterpiece. I thought about my Jesus.

I considered my options, friends! This is something rational people do! I considered the amazing moments I could share with the security guard. I considered how I greatly miss physical affection. I considered how I greatly long to be important to a man, and here was a chance to feel that. I considered everything I have learned over the course of recovery. I considered that what I really want is something he can't provide me, and that what I really want can't be found in superficial affection.

It became apparent that I would make the right choice, and I had a period of grieving. It's not fair. It's not! It's not fair that I have to steel my lips and hands and heart till someone who will honor them comes along, when that someone may never ever come along. It's not fair that if I honor myself, I must respect myself and others, and not use my body as a plaything. It's not fair that I have to be single and alone and lonely. It's hard to say no- it is so hard to say no- but I understand that I must say no because I know better.

And so, I told him I'm on a journey of no sexual contact, not even kissing, for the foreseeable future, but that I hoped we could still be friends. He said sure, and asked why would I do such a journey?

I will show you what I told him.

And, dude. I'm so proud of myself. I feel powerful, like I can do anything I need to do. And, the love that I feel like I need from men when I behave recklessly, I gave it to myself. And it actually filled some of the holes that making out with men never fills.

This is a huge mark of progress. It's a huge indicator of the healing that I have done. I'm so thankful to my Savior for healing me. Look! Look at this! I stopped a disaster before it happened! I saved myself from profound regret, which is never worth the pleasure! I chose to keep my temple recommend, and to be worthy of the Sacrament on Sunday! I chose my kids, I chose my heart, I chose my God.

I'm Almost Certain I Won't Slip Again

I'm a little scared to write this post. The reason I decided to is because my favorite posts to re-read are the ones in which I'm totally honest, holding nothing back. I get annoyed with myself when I re-read a post and I know I was holding back what I really felt. I think, why didn't I just lay it all out there? and I realize that it would have been a more helpful post if I had been totally forthcoming.

And so, I write you this confession. I confess that, in this moment, I feel quite sure I will never slip again. Considering my last slip was 9 days ago, I realize I may be delusional. For example, let me tell you about my experience when I'm eating chips out of a bag. After I've had a few, this happens:

This is my last chip. Okay, well, after this next little handful, I won't have anymore. I'm sorta sick of the chips, anyway. I've had enough. Oh, now that I finished that little handful, I suddenly want more, so I think I'll just have another one. This is the last one for sure. No more, I've had enough. Hmm, now that I've finished that one, I may as well have another one- what's the difference between one more and two more?"

I figure that as long as I have a salty, delicious chip in my mouth, I can fathom not having another one. But as soon as I swallow it, I feel like I want another one! My point is, with my last slip being so recent (relatively), perhaps it's like a chip is still in my mouth.

Or, perhaps, it's something more.

Really, I don't know if I'll slip again. I don't know what I'll choose tomorrow, or next week, or next month, so it's impossible to predict. And I get that.

But, today, for right now, I feel like I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the life that Marsha -- Addiction -- offers. I'm sick of the excuses I have to make and the lies I have to believe (or pretend to believe) in order to keep her alive. For today, it feels like addiction and lust and hopelessness are utterly incompatible with my current life. Additionally, I know just how not to slip. I know all the things I need to do to avoid that pitfall. And I believe I will do them. I believe I will continually do them, and do them better than I do them now. I believe I will do more and learn more as I follow the Spirit and keep the commandments. I know that if I continue on the right and righteous path that the scriptures point me to, that I cannot fall into the grasp of Satan long enough to slip.

Also, as I look back on my last slip, it feels different. It feels like it was more out of rebellion and apathy than compulsion. I'm not saying that's a good thing, not remotely. In fact, I think it makes it worse. However, if I'm right, it means that I am not imprisoned anymore by addiction.

There is only one way out of hell, and that's Jesus. There is only one way to Salvation and Eternal Life, and that's Jesus. I was in Hell, and He has carried me out. I was alone and scared in a dark, cold forest, surrounded by beasts of terror who wished to devour me, and Jesus came after me and I finally decided to follow Him out. I'm following Him out. With Him, I am safe. With Him, I can withstand all of life's trials. He will take my arrows of unfair circumstances and my bullets of personal weakness. He will stay the beasts that come to attack me and destroy me. All I have to do is stay by His side, and walk with Him.

If I do that, and as long as I'm doing that, I won't ever slip again. Not in this addiction. I will continue to make mistakes, daily! I will continue to succumb to other weaknesses. But not this one. This one, I can be free of every day that I chose to be free of it.

And . . . I believe I will so choose, which means, I will never slip again.

We'll see, I guess! I hope this isn't arrogant, because if I am arrogant, I'm prideful, and pride is a breeding grounds for temptation. But if I trust my Jesus, that is not arrogance.

Regardless of my journey ahead, I know that I am of great worth to my Father and my Savior. Regardless, I know that They will continue to hold out their open arms to me, ready to fight my battles and guide me to happiness.

I'm hate addiction! I hate pornography! I love freedom and serenity. I can have freedom if I choose it, and serenity if I want it.

When Serenity is Scary

Most addicts in recovery are well-acquainted with the oft-quoted adage above, known as the Serenity Prayer. Google's definition of Serenity is "a state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled." Oh, sweet serenity! Serenity is trust in God, a trust that because He is God, everything will be alright.

My last slip happened on my 123rd day. It happened on a day after I'd enjoyed many consecutive days of abstinence, as well as straight-up peace; serenity. I had been so happy. On Christmas Eve, I posted the following on Facebook:

"All month my heart has been soaring with happiness. I don't know why, really, but I'm not gonna overthink it. I'm just so happy and so grateful and so covered in love. Even with the stress and busyness of the prison program prep, my ex calling CPS on me and having them in my house, the stress of Anna's birthday party, of her choir program that I accompanied, of worrying about sufficient income for mortgage and bills and gifts- even with all the unpleasant goings-on- I just feel I have been blessed beyond my ability to begin to capture in a FB post. I feel a beautiful calm in my heart, a peace, a serenity, a reassurance to the point beyond doubt that everything will be okay always.
I'm just happy."

And it was true. I had experienced an insane amount of continuous peace. My trust in my Savior was carrying me insomuch that I felt like I was floating.

But, I began to fear the peace. Peace is something I'm still not so familiar with. I'm much more familiar with continuous torment. I am much more intimately acquainted with fear and self-loathing, with the uneasiness of the sin-afflicted soul. I'm familiar with feeling like life is crap with moments of joy, rather than life is joy with moments of crap. I look back and see so clearly that the consequence to sin is misery! I was miserable- I drank misery because it's all that was available, as far as I could see, and it was abundant in a steady stream. Serenity came sometimes! Serenity was dear and fleeting, like a first backyard butterfly of the summer. And, because Addiction was my lifestyle, serenity rushed away quickly- every time.

I had taught myself that serenity was fleeting. But, it wasn't serenity; it was my own repentance that fled so readily. My own obedience.

Even so, I think my last slip, on my 123rd day the other week, was in some way a self-sabotage. This long-time serenity became bewildering, and even suffocating in my untrained heart. I couldn't handle the peace of trust, because it suddenly began to feel foreign. I withdrew trust, and, not so surprisingly, surrendered my sobriety. I had no such intention! Truly, I didn't. I regret it wholeheartedly.

But, I'm lying right now. Sort of. I mean, serenity isn't foreign. Serenity feels like home. It's secure and warm and safe. It feels like a hug from a loving, accepting, fully-invested parent. It feels like a memory- a memory of pre-mortal eternities. Nothing feels more right than serenity. What's foreign is my acceptance of it, my desire for it, my commitment to it. The truth is, I became overwhelmed by being too far away from my old friend Marsha. I became frustrated that serenity and Marsha are utterly incompatible. There is no and! There is only or! Sin or serenity. (Incidentally, I recommend the movie Into the Woods,) Serenity is infinitely better but sin is easier. 

So, I guess if I'm being honest with myself, serenity isn't scary at all, ever. What's scary, when I withdraw my trust in Jesus, is the idea that choosing serenity means choosing a lifestyle of repentance, and of giving up forever the lusts (sexual and otherwise) of the flesh. 

I chose momentary pleasure and escape over serenity and good favor with God. That's it. That's what I did. I am so grateful that I understand the Atonement well enough to know that my choices are not sure damnation as long as I turn back to Him and walk His path. I am grateful to understand that my worth remains unaltered by this slip! I am grateful that I am now wise enough to stand up quickly and dust myself off, rather than rolling in the mud for a few days like I used to do. I'm deeply grateful for a Savior, who has covered me for even this, again. I'm so sorry He had to.

I'm also grateful serenity isn't a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I'm grateful that I can choose it now. And I am choosing it now.