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.

When I Try to be my Own Jesus

So much for writing daily! oh well.

Through my several years of addiction recovery, I have learned many important lessons. Many of these lessons have been engraved in my heart, never to be forgotten. Many of them reside in my heart most of the time. There is one, however, that repeats itself over and over again. It is crippling! Not that lesson, of course, but that I haven't learned it yet.

I am not Jesus!

How often I try to be my own Jesus. When I look back on my most recent slips, there are a few common themes: Stress, fear, and a desire to, and a belief that I can, save myself. 

I come to believe that I am powerful enough to overcome my hardships alone. I come to believe that I can rely on my own self to make it through moments of temptation. I come to believe that I am in charge. I got this. I did this. I'm doing this. It's my job.

I put a lot of responsibility on my shoulders when I get that way. No wonder I get stressed!

I have written about this before, once in 2012 and once last year. I hope I really learn it soon.

Some ways that I try to take Jesus's power away from Him are:

Beating myself up. When I abuse myself emotionally, especially following a slip, it's because I feel like I "deserve" to be punished. Well, that's not my job to decide! My job is to get up, repent, and move forward. When I take the reigns of punishment, I take Jesus's job. The chastisement of my peace is upon Him. Not me. He tells us to repent. He doesn't tell us to destroy ourselves with unkindness. When I beat myself up, and try to tell myself how I'm supposed to feel, I am not able to sincerely repent anyway. I can't feel godly sorrow when I'm making up my own version of sorrow.

Ignoring the Spirit. The day I slipped last, almost two weeks ago, was the day that I was going to go to the temple. I knew I needed to go. I knew, even, that I was supposed to go. I had planned to go that day for a week or so, but that day came and I was tired and I wanted to sleep in. I said to myself, "I'll go Thursday instead." and a teeny, tiny but perceptible voice warned me "you might slip before then" and I said, "Please. I can make it two days. I know I can. Of course I can!" and then the voice nudged me. And I nudged it back. "I got this." I can't say that I would have avoided the slip had I attended the temple. But, as my bishop kindly but firmly reminded me today, I would have been strengthened. I would have been strengthened by obedience to the Spirit, and by the sweet spirit and peace I would have experienced in the temple. And maybe it would have been strength sufficient to offer awareness of what was really coming at me Tuesday night, and I could have fought it.

Slacking in the Little Things. When I put off reading the scriptures, attending the temple, having FHE; when I don't prepare for my calling, pray with sincerity, have family scriptures; when I avoid Visiting Teaching because I don't really love it-- when I slack off in these easy but monumentally important things, I am essentially telling God, "I don't need You." "I can do this on my own."

I got this.

It's strange to me how readily and easily I reject being saved. When I surrender, and when I give myself to my Father, that's when I feel amazing. That's when I am confident, and powerful, and capable, and secure, and happy. There is nowhere warmer or safer than in the arms of Jesus. Why am I so easily distracted from that sweet security by things of the world? I need to amp up my faith. My bishop reminded me today that if I have faith, I will be given strength, and I can have the Priesthood power to make it through any time temptation or trial.

Why should I insist on saving myself when I have Jesus?

I pray that Heavenly Father will teach me to truly learn this lesson. I know that if I don't, I will continue to struggle, continue to slip. The moment I depend on myself is the moment I, mockingly, step away from my Savior, and if I continue on that self reliant path, I will slip again. I'm a little scared about that because I know myself. I know I will cease to trust God and once again put my trust in myself. I hope and pray that I catch it in time to avoid the pit that awaits me.

I feel like beyond this great wall of pride is a freedom I've never known.

When I look back on my months-long period of doubt, I see so much humanism! So much self-reliance! (there is a very good kind of self-reliance, and a very damaging kind of self-reliance.) This is a serious problem and I really, really think I need help overcoming it.

Oh, happy Easter, Friends. This is the commemoration of the most important, sacred, holy day in all of history! Jesus is risen! He lives, He is my Savior- not me. He earned that title- not me. And because He rose from the grave after the darkest nights of the world, we can also rise from our trials and sins into triumph and glory and eternal life! What a beautiful day. How I love my Jesus!

Control, Control, Control

I want control. I want to be in control. When I feel like I am not in control, I freak out and write posts like yesterday's. I want to control everything in my life. When my need for control is this high, trusting God seems impossible. Trusting God means relinquishing my illusion of control over to Him.

Even as I write that, I feel my blood pressure rising. NO! I must have the control!

It's funny because I never have control. I never had it. I never can! This is not my world. This is God's world. I wish my life to be God's life. I wish to turn myself entirely over to Him.

Even as I write that, a calm comes over me, and I exhale peacefully.

I have been frantically trying to control everything at work so that I can control what my next shift will be so that I can more easily control my life and be home with my kids when I want to be. Because then my illusion of control will be more believable. I'll think I have some. I'll think that it's because of my awesomeness that I have a great shift. It's because of my needs as a single mom that I am home with them. I got this. I did this.

When I was in the prisons on Sunday, I was panicking because our escorts weren't there when I wanted them to be. We were going to be late! Then there were two surprise speakers at our first prison when we were supposed to be the only part of the program. I panicked because they weren't on MY agenda. This was going to ruin everything. At the 2nd prison, it seemed to take forever to get prepared (we had to wait for the rotation and it seemed to be taking a lot of time), and I panicked about time. Again. At the 3rd prison, it took also forever to get prepared and I remembered that at Christmastime, this prison was the one that is super finicky about time so we had to get started straight away. And the inmate choir director kept talking to me about getting them music for the Christmas program and I didn't really know how to make a decision and anyway, while we were doing our program, during the 2nd song which was a solo, I was looking out at all the offenders and suddenly this calm came over me. Suddenly I realized, this is not my program. This is not my choir. I'm here because God wants us here and because He loves these offenders so much. This isn't about me. I realized I needed to stop trying to control it. And I gave the rest of the day to Him. And I sat back and enjoyed the program, enjoyed the choir, without worrying about what is going to happen next. And I felt a Heavenly nudge to apply this thought to my life. I need to stop trying to control it! I can't anyway. I can make the best choices I know how. I can be the best mother I know how. I can forgive myself, and move forward every day. But even my best efforts cannot, will not, create the life I think I want.

Whatever happens today at work is what happens today at work. This is not my world. I will not fear because I don't need to. Oh, God, let me keep this reassurance throughout this day, especially at work!

Besides that, it's not what I do at work that matters most. It's what I do at home. And I've been really doing better at home, as a parent, as a responsible adult.

Addiction is an illusion of control. I don't mean the addiction itself. But when I rush to pornography, masturbation, food, kissing, Pepsi, Facebook, etc., it's because I'm afraid of real life. It's because something in real life has threatened my sense of control. And if I can't control real life, then I'm going to do something I can control. My addictive behaviors do give me a momentary sense of control. When life is crazy, I feel like I can calm it down with anything on the above list. But, I logically understand that the opposite is true. Those behaviors make my life even more unmanageable and quickly get totally out of my control.

Control itself is simply an illusion. I hope to soon understand that with my heart.

Do You Have the Time to Listen to me Whine

No one likes a whiner but I'm so . . . AUGH . . . that if I write at all, it will be in complaint. And I'm writing. So I complain.

I have this new crappy shift. I see my kids in the morning before school every day and that's it. They're in bed before I get home. I can't even explain how much I hate it. It's just unfair. Duh, why couldn't my sweet babies have been born to someone else who could give them a way better life? Because a life where you hardly see your mother is a life that sucks a little bit, and a life where you hardly see your kids is a life that sucks a lot.

I try every day- I really do!- to tighten my britches and have a good attitude. I spend my mornings missing my kids and trying to figure out what God wants me to do. I'm getting better at managing my time, too. Then I go to work and totally believe I'm going to rock, I'm going to have short calls, get sales, blah blah blah. But instead, inevitably, I have a horrible day. We have all these metrics that we're supposed to meet, and up to this month, I have met most of those metrics without effort. This month I might be meeting one of them. My performance is worse than it has ever been since I got hired, and, let me tell ya, it's not for lack of trying. I have put in more effort than ever because it is sooooo so so so important for me to get a day shift so I can see my kids again, and that depends on performance. At this rate, I will never ever ever get off the night shift. Ever. And I can't make sense of it. How can all the the things that came to me easily, consistently, over the past several months, suddenly not come to be at all? How can my effort yield horrible results? EVERY SINGLE DAY?

Every night on my drive home I cry. I miss my kids so much and because of my scores I will continue to have to miss them. I try so hard and for what? I'm so tired of putting out so much effort and getting the opposite of what I should get in return.

I thought this was a trial God wants me to endure, and I think I maybe still think that, but even though it's not death or severe illness or a real trial, it's too hard for me and I can't handle it. I wanted so badly to endure it well, to show Heavenly Father that I can make it, and make it with a grateful smile, but we're only just over 2 weeks into this and I already feel like crumbling. I already can't breathe. It's already too much.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. That's what I keep telling myself. Maybe one of these days it will be true.

On the other hand, I have been doing a dang good job of turning to God during this, instead of running to my easy places of coping. I do feel that He has been blessing me with strength.