The Grace Experiment: A Memoir (Day 1)

True to form, I woke this morning with my regular litany of accusations, all of which I would declare myself guilty. I stayed up too late, how could I? Well if I'd have done the dishes earlier, if I'd have spent less time on Facebook and done more good stuff, if I'd have done ______, then I'd have been worthy and probably would have been responsible to make it to bed on time. If, if, then, then.

But then I remembered grace. I remembered the experiment.

The word "grace" on its own is so powerful to me. I mean, the instant I hear it, or see it spelled out across my consciousness, I feel a calmness and a power. An exhale. Grace. It's a beautiful word. So, when I remembered grace, I felt calmer, and I shut up the guilt. I rejected the normal guilt of the morning and focused on readying for work.

I listened to a conference talk on the way to work and donned myself with an attitude of grace- of one who accepts the grace that is always, always there. And I had an amazing, happy day at work. I came home and did a few things and then headed off to my ARP meeting, and as I was driving, I remembered, with a 20-lb dumbbell of guilt and another 20-lb dumbbell of self-judgement, that I hadn't read the scriptures after work like I had planned to. So I hadn't read at all today. And those familiar voices, "seriously, Stephanie? How could you forget that?! Why are you always forgetting everything?" and just so much guilt over missing a simple duty and promise.

And then I remembered grace. And I smiled because grace makes me smile. And I hushed my frantic critiques and reminded myself the day's not over and that whether or not I read scriptures has no bearing on my worth. And I let it go.

And then I had a beautiful meeting where I actually tried to connect to the others in attendance which was awkward and bumbling but I had a wonderful time and it was a wonderful meeting. And I love those ladies, all of them.

So now I'm suuuuper tired and I'm going to bed with grace instead of guilt and maybe instead of all the worries I will think of all the blessings, and maybe I'll sleep better.

I hope tomorrow is as happy as today was.

The Grace Experiment: A Memoir (Embarking)

The other Sunday, I slipped. I spent the entire week, until last Monday, in a funk. It was a funk of self-loathing born of anger and frustration. How can I keep doing this when I know better? Why is this still a problem? I HATE THIS! I hate it! Why do I continue to indulge in something that I fully hate?

I was angry to the core and I covered my anger up with extreme guilt and self-loathing. And I was tired of fighting it. I didn't want to fight the negatives. I just wanted to wallow in them because, dang it all, I deserved that.

Anyway, I don't want to focus on that. Finally I pulled myself out of the sludge somewhere around yesterday. Today I had an appointment with my amaaaaaazing therapist, Soni, and gave her a bit of a rundown.

*******I interrupt this program to tell you the story of how I found my therapist. Last August, I made seriously horrible choices with a manfellow, and I therefore forfeited my temple recommend, which I'd only had for a few months after several years of not having it. I realized then that I was sicker than I had been admitting, because, I tell you what, I resisted almost nothing. I couldn't believe I was so weak especially after working so hard for so long. Anyway, I decided I needed counseling again. My last therapist had been the previous year, with LDS Family Services, and she was really great, but she said I was her healthiest client, and I didn't feel healthy at all, so I thought she thought I didn't need her. ALSO, she was all the way in Boise, and too expensive. So I prayed that I would find someone local, and someone who could really help me, and someone I could afford. At the time, I wasn't even employed! But I felt it was important, even so, to find a therapist. So do you know what I did? I Googled "Nampa counselors" and followed links till I found a website that had a long list of licensed therapists in Nampa.

Now, this was terrifying in a way. I was out there all by myself, referring myself, and I was terrified to find someone like David Ridley who would just ruin me further. I knew I would be looking for a woman for sure (because David Ridley poisoned me against male therapists- not that I believe all or even most male therapists are predators, but I figured my chances were better with a female, and that I could relate better anyway). And I read through the bios of several women therapists on the website. When I saw Soni's picture, I knew I needed to contact her. I hadn't even read her bio yet. I saw her picture and I felt that swoosh in the heart- you know what I'm talking about? I went to read her bio and hoped for some indication that she was LDS. She wasn't, but she was forthcoming about her Christianity, so we had that in common. And, she also didn't say anything about sexual addictions in her bio. I was slightly disheartened, but I emailed her right away, and she responded almost right away, and we set up an appointment, and I was humbled and impressed and inspired by her knowledge and her understanding and her compassion. And she is PERFECT. Well, perfect for me anyway. And isn't it awesome how God places people in our paths? She has certainly contributed to my healing, and continues to do so, and I feel so blessed to have been guided to her. ***********

Back to my post! So, I went to therapy today and told Soni what was up, and what was down, and she just guided the truth that I already knew to my consciousness. Grace. She talked a lot about grace. And you know what? I really feel like we LDS folk undermine grace. We say "faith without works is dead" like it's more important than "Come boldly to the throne of grace." There seems to be a cultural focus on works over grace. And we say the traditional Christians have it all wrong when they say all you have to do is accept Jesus into your heart as your Savior and you'll be saved.

But, here's the thing. If I truly and daily and completely accept Jesus as my Savior; if I accept His grace always, if I surrender my will to His, then I will be saved. I am saved. Every day. When we accept one thing, we, of a necessity, surrender another thing. If I accept that I am not 18 anymore, then I surrender the idea that I'm 18 still. You know? When I accepted that my marriage was over, I surrendered the idea that it would last forever. When I accept Jesus as my Savior, then I surrender myself. And when I surrender myself; my will, I will do whatever He wants me to do, and therefore, I will do good works, because I will do His works. We Mormons sometimes talk like works comes before grace, but I really think it's quite the opposite. Grace inspires good. Grace is what heals us and emboldens us, and enables us to do good. I was reading in Romans where Paul said, essentially, that belief is what inspires us to do good... but now I can't find the verse. I'll find it later. :)

Anyway. Grace abounds . . . always. And I'm going to work to stop rejecting it. Every day, I live in a place of guilt and fear. I make all my choices based on guilt or fear (or duty). I wake feeling instantly guilty for my upcoming failures and my last night's failures. I retire to my bed listening to the lullaby of the failures of the day. Guilt, guilt, guilty, every dang day, every dang moment. I'm so afraid that I won't hold myself responsible, that I make sure I beat the crap out of myself. It's not doing it for me anymore, so I'm trying an experiment; a trial, if you will. At Soni's brilliant suggestion, I'm going to work hard to start off my days with grace and not guilt. Can you imagine how different my morning will be tomorrow, when I welcome myself to the day and take notice of the grace around me? And then partake?

It's there. Always.

I'm going to work hard to reject guilt instead of grace. I'll give myself permission to take on my responsibilities, but without guilt. Without my own punitive sports announcer in my head. I free myself of tomorrow's guilt! I permit myself to see and invite and accept God's love for me, all day!

I kinda feel like tomorrow is going to be awesome. I shall report.

The Sensation of Temptation

Right now, it's like that biting itch you sometimes get, and you feel that you must scratch it immediately or you will surely die. It comes on suddenly, without warning, and then it's just there, powerful and strange and very, very needy. It MUST be stopped, and it must be stopped immediately, and the only way to stop it is to scratch the heck out of it. You know that itch I'm talking about.

It's like unto the itch of addiction, especially to the newby. At least it was for me. When abstinence was this new thing I had hope for, and this new thing I was trying out, denying myself of the coping methods I had grown accustomed -- addicted -- to, that itch was there. It was powerful. It was needy. It called for my immediate and full attention. It was physical, like an itch. After time, the itches became emotional. After time, the temptations to indulge in my addictions were due to emotional triggers. That crazy, intense physical need wasn't any longer a daily struggle. Occasionally, after a slip, I feel that intense physical need again. But it's easier to deny as abstinence becomes more than norm than indulgence, and after a few days, it's gone.

Except for the past two weeks. I feel like I'm just now starting to climb out of active addiction for the FIRST TIME. I am feeling those intense physical itches demand my immediate attention just like before. FOR TWO WEEKS. Oh my gosh. I can't believe I've survived, for real.

Hmmmm. On that note . . . I have survived. I have been receiving a physical beating from Satan for two consecutive weeks, and I haven't given in, not even a little. I haven't opened up a search window with sketchy intentions. I haven't entertained inappropriate thoughts. I haven't started up a questionable conversation with an old dude-friend. I haven't opened the door- haven't even reached to scratch that damn itch.

Well, what do you know. A victory I hadn't thought to acknowledge.

Do you know what this means?!?! It means Heavenly Father is helping me so much. It means that my regular scripture study and praying, following promptings, making myself available for service-- it means these things have paid off; are paying off. Satan is seeing my efforts and trying so hard to undermine them, but I am relying on my Savior more than I am on my flesh. This means progress. This means that doing more of the things I've been working so hard to do are even more important that I realized. And that I need to do them with more urgency to keep me continually safe.

I don't feel exhausted from Satan's buffetings, but I'm very annoyed by them. However, I'm also grateful for the strength God has mercifully granted me in this time. I have kept Him in the loop. As these itches, these temptations, vigorously seize me, I call out to Him.

I know I'm not immune. I know two victorious weeks does not mean I've won the war. I know I must still fight, and fight I will. I'm encouraged, now, because Satan can try his hardest, and as long as I'm keeping the commandments and holding tight to the Savior, I will not fall. Not after two weeks of constant buffetings. Not after a year of ceaseless enticings. Jesus is my Savior and my brother and my friend, and He is my rock, a foundation upon which if I build, I cannot fall.

At the beginning of last week, I kept getting this impression that I needed to ask for a blessing for help with my addiction. I didn't want to because it's sorta embarrassing. And I felt like I could handle it. (ha!) Well I finally decided that I didn't want to NOT ask and then find out consequences, so I asked my brother and he obliged. I think that the combination of the Priesthood blessing and my obedience to a prompting gave me enough power to make it through-- along with my trying to do those daily important spiritual boosts.

I'm grateful! I'm grateful I wrote this because by so doing I realized that by asking for it, I received the strength I needed from my Father in Heaven.

Tonight, I'll pray again for power to overcome. Because even now, I feel the buffetings of the Adversary. Even now, I feel him taunting, inviting, daring. In the words of the prince in one of my favorite movies, Ever After, "I will not yield!" Because I don't have to. Because Jesus is my Savior, and He can and will save me from this.

Gratitude as a Cure to Situational Anxiety?

My bishop challenged me to get a little notebook and, every day, write three good things that happened that day, or three good things I'm grateful for that day.

Honestly, I have mostly failed at this. I usually forget (thank you, ADHD). However, purchasing the notebook and sometimes remembering I have it have helped in reminding me to think of things I'm grateful for.

Recently, I've had a crossroads of sorts, and I didn't know which direction to go. It was stressing me out so much. Then I remembered that verse in Proverbs 3. "In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." And I wondered- if I acknowledge God's hand, will He help me see which path I should take?

The bishop's suggested exercise helped me to be more aware of my blessings. And, guess what? After a while, it was like a lamp shone on one of the paths, and that's the one I took. And it feels right and I'm no longer freaking out about it.

Hang on with me here. I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.

So, every single Monday, I get a little panic attack because Tuesday I have to start my work week. I could go into a great long list of why I just don't want to go to work, but I won't. I have Sundays and Mondays off and Mondays are the only day I get with my kids every week (they're with their dad every other Sunday). I should enjoy and cherish my Mondays, but always, that dark cloud of what's coming robs some of my enjoyment. Dread. Anxiety. Since I don't work till 1:00, I get the same dread and anxiety all Tuesday, too. It's thick and horrible and happens weekly.

So, today, I was sitting in my car after dropping my son off at school and in crept that familiar panic. My chest tightened, my heart began to race, my face flushed, I became hot, and tears stood ready to burst through. I decided to take a moment and not just push it down. I took deliberate, conscious breaths (because in those moments, it's almost like I've forgotten the right way to breathe). I told my heart "Shhhhh."

And then something weird happened- almost as if being directed by another force. I began thinking about all the things I have. I began consciously acknowledging my wonderful life. I acknowledge my home, my car, my daily food and water, my health, my children, my working body and mind, my Jesus, my dear friends-- I just started listing things I have. And then I acknowledged the Hand from which all my blessings flow. Soon, acknowledgement turned to gratitude. Genuine gratitude. And then, with my thoughts on my blessings, I remembered that in my past, God has always taken care of me. Everything has always worked out. It's ALWAYS been Okay. And then I realized that if He has taken care of me all this time, then He will continue to take care of me, and everything will always be Okay. Even though I legitimately hate my shift, and I'm allowed to hate my shift, and even though my circumstance are not ideal, and even though my kids and I are suffering because of those circumstances, God, my Father, will continue to take care of us! So I needn't fear. And then I stopped for a second because I realized something. I realized my heart rate was dropping back to normal. I realized the vice on my chest was loosening. I realized my blood flow wasn't all up in my face. And then I realized that my heart felt warm. Like, peaceful. Like, the very opposite of anxious.

And so I'm going to try this again, next time I get that little attack of anxiety. I know it's cliche to say "be grateful," but I really think that consciously acknowledging my abundance of blessings brings about a consequential peace, which destroys anxiety. I mean, anxiety is the very opposite of peace. I don't imagine there's room for it when peace comes in.

This is so important because anxiety is addiction-fuel. Marsha loves it. She uses it against me and lures me to her comforting arms, promising freedom from this plaguing anxiety. I've recognized those promises as lies, but now I think I'm finding antidotes. "In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." Even if my path is clear, even if I know I have to drive to work and clock in and do the work that is a greenhouse for the anxiety in the first place, even if the path before me is already known- I sure would like God's direction on it. And today, acknowledging my blessings and His hand in my blessings gave me peace in a time of anxiety.

It's weird. Gratitude is so powerful. I am going to practice it more. I can't force gratitude, but I can force myself to acknowledge.

For real, I can't wait to try this next time my anxiety rises up and constricts my airways. I hope today wasn't a fluke!

On Triggers and Reaching Out

I used to think that a "trigger" was something that tuned you in immediately to your addiction. Like, maybe a pornographic billboard, or an open beer, or the smell of pot- depending on your addiction. So, I would avoid triggers to the best of my understanding. I would avoid driving by the sex shops in town, avoid billboards I know are around, avoid sex talk, etc. And, I guess those can all be triggers too, but the ones I need to really look out for are the ones I hadn't previously identified as actual triggers.

Some recovering addicts say things like, "I'm triggering bad right now," when they want to reach out. So I would always equate that to, if they have sexual addictions, them having to fight off lustful fantasies, or having to fight the temptation, or as my dear friend Annette calls it, the "crave." I have up till a few days ago equated "trigger" with "current temptation."

When I'm in a mode of focusing on sin, and hoping that I won't indulge but ultimately knowing that I will, I have zero desire to reach out. I'm not going to tell anyone when I'm currently in the zone, the zone of rare return, the "I'm-going-to-type-this-pretendingly-innocent-search-term-in-the-search-bar-and-it's-not-like-anything-will-happen" zone; the "if-I-accidentally-see-an-image-or-heading-I-know-I'll-be-okay," zone; the "just-one-look-won't-hurt" zone; the "I-got-this" zone. I'm already too far gone then. I have already bowed to idol of stone pride, then. And I always wondered, how the heck do people reach out when they're "triggering?" When I'm triggering, I'm already too far gone, and ain't no way I'm letting anyone in then!

But then I realized that the zone I'm in at that point is not a trigger zone. It's beyond the trigger zone. At that point, the trigger zone has been hidden by dust and distance.

I need to be better at reaching out when I'm experiencing real triggers. Before I let those triggers lead me to a path of certain regret, I need to acknowledge them as triggers and talk to someone about them. I think a trigger is something that, if allowed to fester silently, will come out roaring in the form of a fix. Some of my common triggers include:

Feeling overwhelmed
Counting my failrues
Self-laothing
Tiredness
Hormonal changes (PMS, etc.)
Stress
Sadness (though this one is becoming less and less a trigger as I learn to appreciate it, love it, and let it live)
Fear
Indecision
Confusion
Feeling rejected/insecurity

I think my biggest triggers are feeling overwhelmed, fear, and insecurity. So, now, when I notice that I'm feeling overwhelmed, I send a text to a friend and let her know I'm feeling overwhelmed. It doesn't have to be a dramatic scripting of where I think this will take me if I continue on this road, but just a simple, "I'm feeling overwhelmed. There is so much to do! I can never get it done. I know I'm not a failure, but today I'm feeling it." And then she'll respond with something kind and normal, and since I've given VOICE to the trigger, it holds less power. And since I've become ACCOUNTABLE by letting someone in, the trigger holds less power.

It's difficult for me to reach out because I still want to be my own Jesus. I still want to show . . . someone- myself? . . . that I can make it on my own. I still don't want to ask for help. But I do it now because it's important to me to stay away from sexual sin. And now that I have a better understanding of what my own personal triggers are, I can talk about them. I can let people in. It's difficult to train my brain to take stress and feeling like a failure as a huge warning. But, I'm doing it. Slowly, but surely, I'm recognizing these emotions as triggers. All of us experience these emotions, but addicts cope with them by using their addiction. I am learning better methods of coping, and I am learning courage.

Giving up Perfect

One of my many false beliefs is that in order for me to be good enough, I have to be the best. If I'm not the best mom, I'm not good enough. If I'm not the best employee, I'm not good enough. If I'm not the best student, I'm not good enough- the best friend, best Mormon, best woman, best everything. In my early teens, I was the best pianist in most of my groups. It helped me feel good enough. And being the best = good enough = perfect, in my head. But, the older I got, the more pianists I met, and I was almost never the best. If I wasn't the best pianist, I figured my talent was good for nothing. If someone else has it, better than I do, what does it matter if I know how to play?

This concept, certainly, would have been a foreign one:

I am aware of it, now. I am becoming aware of how it is based in pride and fear. I am becoming aware of how it damages myself and others. Somehow, in my mind, being the best means being perfect. And I must be perfect! And being perfect means being the best. And being anything other than perfect means being a total failure. Why am I this way?!

Recently, something in my head clicked. I have been defining perfection all wrong all this time. Perfect has meant a clean house; always happy kids; no addiction slips; being esteemed highly by all around me, all the time; flawlessness as an employee; the best at my calling; the favorite everywhere; thin; all the time knowledgeable; wise- ETC. I felt like I had to be ALL the good things, ALL the time, but even beyond that, that everyone had to believe that I was doing all the good things all the time. 

I shake my head at myself, but I try to remember self-love because these thinking errors are so hard to identify and even harder to change. 

But, now, perfect means something different. We are commanded to be perfect, but whose version of perfect? Certainly not mine! My version of perfect is all screwed up. And the commandment says, "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." It doesn't say, "Be ye perfect even as you define perfect." And when you think about it, how IS our Father perfect? He is perfect but He is not here, on Earth, in mortality. He is not living in this test of life, with a veiled memory of Eternity, with Satan and conspiring men and women calling Him in every which way. I can't be perfect as He is perfect while I'm here, can I? Because He's not. 

Anyway, I have been stressing at work because I'm something like number 7 on our team of 14, and that has been highly unacceptable in the past. But yesterday at work, I suddenly decided to let it go. It means nothing. My ranking means nothing in the Eternal scheme of things. It doesn't tell me my worth- not accurately, anyway. 

And, that's a real part of it. I have been attaching my worth to all these ridiculous things. If my house is clean, then I am worthy of love/acceptance/companionship. If I am number 1 at work, then I am worthy. If my primary kids learn all the songs perfectly the first try, then I am worthy. If I never yell at my kids, then I am worthy. If I never have an inappropriate thought, then I am worthy. If my yard looks nice, then I am worthy. If my friends agree with all my opinions, then I am worthy. If I lose weight, if I drive well, if I write a smash hit song, if I am admired, if I finish the 12 steps, if, if, if, if, if! These "if-thens" are absolute lies, and I have been buying into them for years! And the liberation that comes with understanding that they are lies is difficult to explain. 

My version of "perfect" is false. And I couldn't be happier about that. The pressure that night at work fled off my shoulders in a hurry, and I just focused on what I could do in that moment to do my job well. My house is a disaster but that doesn't mean I have no worth. Wait, what? 

It's clicking. I'm so grateful it's clicking, because holding myself to impossible standards has been pretty awful. And now that I know the truth, or some of it, I don't have to do that anymore. I don't have to be my version of perfect anymore in order to claim worth.

I'm breaking through perfection. It was holding me back in a severe way. It was crushing me and I was using it as a tool of punishment. Well, I don't get to do that anymore. I don't get to punish myself with my false standards. 

I think I still have a lot about this topic I need to work out. I think it's time for a therapy appointment. 

I hope I make at least a little bit of sense!

I'm the Gardener, Here

You ever wonder what in the blazes is God doing with you?

I do. I wonder it every day, these days. Because every day, my life is wildly uncomfortable. I'm in a place which I don't remotely enjoy (my work shift that keeps me from my kids). I want out. Bad.

How bad? I don't know if I want out bad enough to actually do something about it. But, I am becoming increasingly suspicious that perhaps God is intending to use this situation to push me into something greater for my family-- for my happiness.

I don't know. I'm confused about all this. But, when I really think of it, standing idly by and waiting for God to teach me what I'm supposed to learn from all this doesn't sound as much of a good idea as actually working for it. I want out! I think Heavenly Father, who knows me well, knew I would be going stark, raving mad by this shift. And maybe His purpose in this is something far different than I primarily imagined. Maybe He's pushing me to get myself (with His help) out, rather than waiting for it to end.

I gotta get out. I want out. Bad. I feel imprisoned - stuck - and utterly useless. My children need me, and that became as evident as it ever will be tonight. I can't just idly sit and let this trial happen. I will if I must, but I think and I hope that I mustn't.

I'm reminded of one of my Uncle Steve's favorite analogies. He would repeat it often to me. The author is Hugh B Brown, and he talks about a current bush.

He starts off by saying-- well, I'll let him tell you. I found this delightful rendition on YouTube. Take a listen:

"I'm the gardener, here." Okay, Lord. Let me be satisfied with Your will. Cut me down the way that will make me the most glorious and useful to You.