Reconciliation and Separation

I don't know everything about addiction, but I know a lot about it. I have studied it for years, both from an LDS/spiritual perspective and a psychological perspective. Addiction sucks. Having addictions sucks.

God made our brains this way. He made our brains susceptible to addiction. Addiction isn't a sin; it's a weakness. The things we choose to do in our addictions, well, those are certainly sins, of course. But, addiction itself isn't a sin, and being an addict is nothing to be ashamed of anymore than having multiple sclerosis is something to be ashamed of. It's just not a sin.

The thoughts in my head this morning are these: As addicts, we must both separate our addictive behaviors from our worth, and reconcile our addictive behaviors with ourselves. And that's weird to me. Separation and reconciliation are basically opposites, but aren't paradoxes kind of a thing of the Gospel? The last shall be first and the first shall be last shall be first; become as a child but put off childish things; commandments seem restrictive but they are actually liberating, etc.

I have a hard time reconciling this addiction with myself. I have had sexual addictions for twenty years!!!, I ought to be able to understand that it's a part of me by now! But I hate it. I feel to be above this smut. I feel to be too righteous for it. I feel like it's beyond me even while I'm seeking it out! Pornography has been a destructive and defining part of my addiction for 8 years, and it still feels like something I would never do. I can't make sense of that and I recognize I must sound like a crazy person. But that's what I mean. This is what I have to reconcile: that pornography (using humans, degrading humans, supporting sex slavery, supporting sex trafficking, mocking sex) is not beyond me. This is what I have to reconcile: that I. AM. an ADDICT. This is what I must reconcile: that the behaviors I choose when I am in that zone of addiction are the behaviors I am choosing. This is what I have chosen! This is what I have chosen. This is what I have chosen. I have to reconcile that, I have to believe that about myself, I have to believe that I would do these things that destroy me, that I would choose something so deplorable, so repulsive, so damaging, so despicable! Yes, me! I am not beyond this.

At the same time, it's equally important to separate all those admissions and reconciliations from my worth. It's equally important to separate what I've done and who I am. It's important to separate my addiction from my potential.

That's hard to do. It's hard to both reconcile and separate. I'm better at separating than I used to be. When I slip, I don't mope around for days behaving as though I have no worth because I feel like I have no worth. I don't do that anymore. I get off my rear, dust it, fall to my knees, express my genuine sorrow (which comes more readily and sincerely when I'm not beating the crap out of myself), and move forward. I've gotten pretty good at separating my sins from my worth. However, I still struggle with reconciling that this is a part of me. This is an error of pride.

Step 1: Admit that you, of yourself, are powerless to overcome your addictions. Admit. Reconcile. Shed denial.

It's fundamental in addiction recovery, and I have yet to fully achieve it. There's still a huge lying part of me that so desperately wants it to not be true about myself, that I cannot fully reconcile that this is a part of who I am.

I slipped last night. I'm struggling the most with these types of thoughts: I'm better than that. I knew better. I have no room for this in my life. This is not the kind of life I'm living right now. I'm above this!

But, clearly, I am not above this. And if I really break that down, then what it means is I am still struggling to admit that I need help. If I really think I'm too good for this sin, then I really think that I'm too good for a Savior, and if I really think that I'm too good for this sin (the very one I've been committing for most my life), then I also somewhere believe that I'm in no danger of committing it, and that is a perilous lie.

I don't know the mechanics of yesterday's slip. It's always complicated; always complex. I do believe, however, that it had much to do with thinking I was beyond the sin that tempted me. I will say that I could feel the attack from Satan from early in the day. I knew it was coming. I predicted more temptations. I went to the temple. Even in the temple, sinful thoughts invaded and I swiftly kicked them out as soon as I was aware of them. I'd been doing it all day. I listened to two conference talks and read scriptures and participated in good things, in effort to protect me from the crave. But, Friends, it was intense. As I was lying in bed, trying desperately to sleep, the thoughts I'd been trying to escape all day swarmed my mind, and I prayed. And I began listening to scriptures from my phone. Jacob 5 to be exact. And while I was listening to Jacob 5, the thoughts I'd been fighting all day basically shut down my brain and I shut off the scriptures.

It was like pirates in the darkness. Like I was a ninja in a great field at midnight, and I knew I was coming up to a scary place like maybe a beach or something, so I was doing all the things I knew to do, and I was gripping my nunchucks in anticipation of battle. And then this pirate jumped out of the shadows and I fought him off! And then two pirates jumped out of the shadows, and with a little more effort, I took care of them, too. But then 15 of them came, so I turned on Jacob 5, hoping to shine them away, but they encroached steadily, and they were all around me, and I thought I'd be okay, but then another 100 of them surrounded me and with equal speed and fervor they ran upon me, and I was totally, helplessly overcome. And then they drowned me in the ocean.

That's what it felt like. I can't win 115 pirates! I gave up. I exited my LDS Library app, and on the very same device I was using to try to invite the Spirit into my heart, I tried to bypass my filters to find something pleasurably appealing. I succeeded. And the Spirit fled, as I should have done.

You know what I bet? I bet if I'd just held out a little longer, if I'd just offered up one more prayer, if I'd reached out to just one friend- if I'd given one more sincere effort, that's all it would have taken. I bet I was just at the very last moment before Grace would have swept me up in safety. And I wish I would have held out.

Here's another thing. If I confess the bad, let me also rejoice in the good. I haven't viewed pornography in 7 months! This is some sort of awesome record! Last night I found some really awful reading material, which, if pornography has been involved in my slips since February, it's been in text. I'm not saying that's an acceptable form of pornography, no way. It's still very much pornography! But if porn has degrees, text porn is not as bad as visual porn, and I promise I'm not justifying. It's . . . something like progress. It means what I tolerate is becoming less graphic, which means I'm getting better. Slowly!! Ever so slowly, but ever so surely, and I'm counting it as progress.

As I passed up the Sacrament today, I wept. I can't wait for a day (in the near future, dang it!) when I will be able to take the Sacrament every week, for more than six consecutive weeks. Oh, how I wish to be healed of this. Oh, how I wish to be free.

I'm so inexplicably grateful that I have a Savior, Who has taken upon Him my every last sin, and because of Whom my chances to repent never run out while I live and breathe.

Breaking Promises

Last year, I made a promise to God that I would stop being late for church. I sometimes was late on purpose so I could skip the Sacrament without anyone seeing me pass it up. But that was terribly unfair to my children, and to myself. Since then, I've been so good at being to church on time, even when I was unworthy to take the Sacrament.

Last Sunday, however, I made some dumb choices.

First, I made a mess with some thoughtless words that I posted on Facebook, which words hurt the feelings of some of my most valued friends. I didn't consider the outcome of my post before posting, and I was wrong to post what I did. I felt bad, and I did what I could to clean up that mess. Then, I looked at the clock. It was an hour before church and I still hadn't showered. I knew I could get away with going w/o a shower, but I decided I wanted to be clean. And I readied a bath. I love baths, but, seriously, an hour before church and I think a bath is a good idea?? Well I enjoyed my hot bath and I took my time. By the time I was dressed and had my hair done, it was 15 minutes before church. Luckily, I'm about a five minute drive from my ward building (and I don't even live in Utah!). I still had time to make it on time. Well, I checked Facebook again, and wasted more time. I simply wasn't making church a priority.

Finally I left the house about 10 minutes after church started. I thought if I hurried, I might be on time to take the Sacrament. I zoomed to church, praying, asking God to forgive my neglect, asking Him to help me arrive on time for the sacred bread and water.

I arrived and the doors to the chapel were closed. I sat on a chair in the foyer, hoping I'd made it in time for the bread, and if not, at least the water. But then, the doors were all opened, and the bishopric member was dismissing the Aaronic Priesthood.

Wait, what just happened? I was worthy to partake of the Sacrament, and I didn't?

I couldn't have stopped the tears if I tried. Well, I did try. I don't like to cry in front of people.

Wet-faced, I found an empty chair in an empty row in the overflow (I usually sit in the very front pew!) and wiped my tears away as the meeting proceeded. The Sacrament is precious to me, notwithstanding my blatant neglect Sunday morning. Every Sunday, I thank God that I have privilege to participate in that sweet, covenant-renewing ordinance. I look forward to the cleansing power of the Sacrament each week! How could I reject it when I was worthy?

Not only did I miss the Sacrament, I also broke a promise to God. I was not on time. I had no excuse, no reason.

I prayed for extra strength because I knew I'd need it this week without the promise of the Sacrament, the promise of the Spirit with me always. I needed that, and I rejected that. I knew that there would be consequences for my neglect, but that I could and would lessen the sting of those consequences with repentance and resolution to do better going forward.

I felt so sad. I was sorry to have missed the most important part of church, and I was sorry to have missed the wonderful blessings of the Sacrament. Still, as I write this, I weep. I should have been there. I should have given more effort.

And I thought, you know, this may have been the way those 5 unprepared virgins felt when they were rejected by the Bridegroom. How desperately they wanted to be in attendance! But they were late, and they were denied the Savior's gift. How desperately I wanted to take the bread and water! But I was late, and I was denied the Savior's gift. And I sat there in the dust, regretting, deeply, my choices, as I imagine those virgins must have done. No, no, Lord, please let me in. For them, it was eternally too late. For me, it was too late for one day. I thank God for the opportunity to repent and try again.

I put silly little things at home above my Savior that day. That's what I did, and I feel genuine sorrow for it.

But, do you know what? It'd been so long since I'd been late to church, and that is progress! And that is good progress, that I do not discount. I know that this poor choice did not affect my worth. I know that going to church at all was a good choice. I know that I can learn from this and go forward.

Tomorrow, I will take the Sacrament in gratitude and as much humility as I can muster. I will not let any human thing get in the way of me being on time tomorrow. I'm grateful for Heavenly Father's help with me this week even without doing everything I could to make it to church on time. I know this week could have been better, and I know next week will be better. I need the Sacrament each week, I need it, and I can't refuse it again.