Tonight, I attended my weekly ARP meeting. I wanted to stay home and sleep, as I haven't slept well in several weeks. However, I recalled that sleeplessness had been a contributor to my last several slips, and maybe the meeting would give me that extra spiritual boost.
There was no maybe about it.
I had planned to complain when it was my turn to share. I had planned to speak my fears and sorrows. But, when it was my turn, I could do no such thing, because the Spirit took that time to remind me of where I'd been, where I am, and where I'm going. My God, through the Spirit, reminded me that, even though I feel like recovery is taking me way too long, it really wasn't all that long ago when I was in a place so dark and hopeless that I mostly believed I could never recover; that I was stuck forever in sin and despair; that I would never make it Home. I remembered a poem I'd written several years ago, and I remembered it verbatim. I have posted it on my blog before, but this is the one I'm talking about:
God, O God, my Father,
Can't You feel my inside screams
Bursting outward, upward, forward
Through a megaphone of sin?
Can't You see my face discolored
By my heart's unending tears
Do You not hear the desperation
of my crumbling, wearied soul?
I'm tired of this! Tired
of the constant, blunt reminders
Uninvited invitations
to my chosen mortal vice
God, O God, my Father
Is there more hopeful a conclusion
Than -- Why give to Thee this day
When tomorrow I must fail?
Now, it's been several years since I wrote that. Seven years, actually. But I felt just that way for years. I felt like failure was inevitable, that I wasn't good enough to ever be free, that my efforts toward healing would never be sufficient, and so how could my efforts of today matter at all when tomorrow I was just going to act out again? I felt totally and eternally trapped. Tonight, as I recalled the poem, I also recalled very vividly the feeling. And the truth is, I'm not there anymore. Even when I take some steps backward, I cannot stay in a place of misery and hopelessness, because I know too much. I know my Savior too well. I cannot know Him and love Him like I do and stay down! No! Because of Him, I can rise each time I fall, and I can rise immediately each time I fall. He will pick me up the moment I reach for His hand, every time. And so, I cannot stay down anymore, and my stumbles are ever becoming less frequent and less drastic. I am His miracle! My pride and unwillingness have slowed my progress, to be sure, but I have most certainly progressed, which is evident by my hope, I believe, which hope comes through my Jesus. My progress is a miracle.
I am in a much different place than I was then. The difference is enormous. Then, hope was a light through a pinhole way in the distance. Now, hope is as "bright as the noonday sun," and constant. Oh, sweet hope, Oh, sweet Jesus! I cannot lie in despair when I know such hope.
When it was my turn to share, I did not speak my fears and sorrows, as I'd previously planned. I spoke my hope and gratitude. I spoke my testimony of His love and His healing. As I remembered how far I've come - even if it has taken a long while - I couldn't talk about the negative pieces of my life. The miracle of the Atonement is far more important than the day's irritants.
I'm so thankful I attended tonight. I'm so grateful that the Lord has provided His children with so many tools of recovery, of help, of repentance, of hope. How He loves us! How He loves me.
Showing posts with label progress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label progress. Show all posts
Friday, September 25, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
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 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.
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.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
A Mark of Progress
Numbers:
58 days since my last slip
298 days since I first began enjoying abstinence with recovery
About 21 days (estimate) till I can get my temple recommend back
Whoa! 298 days ago was when I began climbing out of active addiction. I haven't been active in addiction since! I have had three slips since then and one mini-relapse. That's what I call it. It was a series of slips (like four maybe) over a period of about 2 weeks. That was my last one. That was a horrible one. Anyway, notwithstanding the minor setbacks, this is remarkable progress!! Before 298 days ago, making it two weeks without indulging was a miracle. Now, I've had only a few slips in 298 days. And that is a miracle!
This has been a joint effort between me and Heavenly Father. I walk a step, He carries me fifty steps. I step, He carries. And so it goes. And so I know that as long as I keep moving forward, walking toward my Savior, I will keep finding this success.
The past two months have been exceedingly challenging. I'll spare you the details (you're welcome), but just know that challenges have been piling on top of me, one after another, week after week. And they're not petty challenges, either, but big ones.
It's hard.
I have been tempted on many occasions to give up hope. I've been tempted to give up trying to get out of this circumstantial mess. I've been tempted to rush back to my old comfort, my Marsha, and escape for a moment in the secret delight of counterfeit pleasures. Daily, I think about Marsha. Daily, I think about giving up. Daily, something tries to convince me that it's too hard, that I can't do it, that I must rely on my addictions.
But, daily, I turn to the True Source of my comfort. Daily, I reject lies that I am worthless. Daily, I am reminded that I am not in this alone. My God hath been my support! He hath filled me with his love unto the consuming of my flesh! I know in whom I have trusted. Oh, Lord, I will trust in Thee forever.
My point is, with all these trials happening, with varying challenges every single day, I have not given up. I have not given in. God has granted me grace according to my faith and efforts, and daily, He is saving me. He is keeping me afloat in this sea of burdens. A year ago, these circumstances would have sent me into a spiraling, lasting relapse. I know that. I know that a year ago, I couldn't have handled these happenings the way I am now. It's a beautiful and inspiring mark of progress. I know that I have come a long way, and so I know I that I can go a long way still.
With God as my Father, and Jesus as my guide, I will not fail when I trust in Them.
I am ever-grateful for the ongoing rescue on my behalf. My eternal life and immortality are God's work and glory-- and that is incredible! I mean so much to Him. And so, to Him, I return.
58 days since my last slip
298 days since I first began enjoying abstinence with recovery
About 21 days (estimate) till I can get my temple recommend back
Whoa! 298 days ago was when I began climbing out of active addiction. I haven't been active in addiction since! I have had three slips since then and one mini-relapse. That's what I call it. It was a series of slips (like four maybe) over a period of about 2 weeks. That was my last one. That was a horrible one. Anyway, notwithstanding the minor setbacks, this is remarkable progress!! Before 298 days ago, making it two weeks without indulging was a miracle. Now, I've had only a few slips in 298 days. And that is a miracle!
This has been a joint effort between me and Heavenly Father. I walk a step, He carries me fifty steps. I step, He carries. And so it goes. And so I know that as long as I keep moving forward, walking toward my Savior, I will keep finding this success.
The past two months have been exceedingly challenging. I'll spare you the details (you're welcome), but just know that challenges have been piling on top of me, one after another, week after week. And they're not petty challenges, either, but big ones.
It's hard.
I have been tempted on many occasions to give up hope. I've been tempted to give up trying to get out of this circumstantial mess. I've been tempted to rush back to my old comfort, my Marsha, and escape for a moment in the secret delight of counterfeit pleasures. Daily, I think about Marsha. Daily, I think about giving up. Daily, something tries to convince me that it's too hard, that I can't do it, that I must rely on my addictions.
But, daily, I turn to the True Source of my comfort. Daily, I reject lies that I am worthless. Daily, I am reminded that I am not in this alone. My God hath been my support! He hath filled me with his love unto the consuming of my flesh! I know in whom I have trusted. Oh, Lord, I will trust in Thee forever.
My point is, with all these trials happening, with varying challenges every single day, I have not given up. I have not given in. God has granted me grace according to my faith and efforts, and daily, He is saving me. He is keeping me afloat in this sea of burdens. A year ago, these circumstances would have sent me into a spiraling, lasting relapse. I know that. I know that a year ago, I couldn't have handled these happenings the way I am now. It's a beautiful and inspiring mark of progress. I know that I have come a long way, and so I know I that I can go a long way still.
With God as my Father, and Jesus as my guide, I will not fail when I trust in Them.
I am ever-grateful for the ongoing rescue on my behalf. My eternal life and immortality are God's work and glory-- and that is incredible! I mean so much to Him. And so, to Him, I return.
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