Christ knows what I need

I met with my bishop on Sunday. It was a breath of relief to have such a positive experience after experiencing so much trauma with my last bishop.

During our conversation, we talked about the Atonement, and he said something that gave me a new perspective on what Christ went through.

He said to the effect of, "Many people don't really think about it this way, but when we talk of Christ coming to earth as a man, he truly came as a man. A human, just like you and me. He experienced the full range of emotions that you and I can feel. He was tempted and felt the powers of evil and darkness of Satan, just like you and me. He experienced everything a human can experience in this life because he came here as a man." And He had a mission. He came here with purpose, and part of that purpose was to experience everything that could be experienced in this life.

Not only did Christ experience the whole range of human experience, but He also suffered for each of us individually. He felt the pain of betrayal during His life, but He felt my pain of betrayal in the Garden. He knows how to comfort and succor us from His mortal life AND from his sacrifice in the Garden and on the cross.

I read this scripture today, and it solidified my understanding of what I have been pondering all week.

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33

We are not alone. Christ knows exactly what we need because He has felt it all. And He has overcome it all. Through Him, we can find peace.

Memory Lane, Anger, and Now

Sometimes when things are hard and it feels like everything is piling on, I start living in the past. Asking myself how I got here and wondering what life would be like if I had made different choices.

This happened on Sunday. I can't remember what happened Sunday that put me down that road of thinking. Maybe it was the fact that this time of year has been triggery for me because I'm living where we were engaged. And we were engaged this time of year five years ago. And I just attended a wedding reception for a friend, and her theme of her engagement and wedding has been "happily ever after." Not to be rude, but *gag me*. It's triggering to me because when I was younger, I loved princesses, fairy tales, and happily ever afters (still do). But sometimes I don't feel like I have a happily ever after...and that trigger is not the point of this post. Moving on.

On Sunday, I was reflecting on our initial friendship, dating, and engagement. He really pursued me. I had no interest in dating him for mostly superficial reasons, but he kept pursuing me. Eventually, I told him I would not date him and if that meant we couldn't even be friends, then he needed to move on. And it was when he was completely removed from my life that I realized I couldn't live without him. That was when I started thinking about dating him, and shortly after we started dating I knew I was supposed to marry him.

But here's the thing. Our friendship and dating experiences were a roller coaster. Major ups and downs. It was crazy. I remember how completely broken and alone I felt during the point where we cut each other out of our lives completely. I remember feeling so confused and asking God what the heck was going on. I remember being on my knees, sobbing, because I didn't understand why I felt such a powerful connection to Ben when I also didn't really want to date him. And then I remember saying, "Heavenly Father, I don't know what is happening here. But I do know you see all. I refuse to date Ben unless it is to marry him one day because the roller coaster is ridiculous. So if I'm supposed to marry him, help me to develop the romantic feelings I need and the strength to bring him back into my life."

I asked God to help me love Ben. And He did.

So as I thought about this on Sunday, I asked myself WHYYYYY I did that. Why didn't I just let him move on with his life without me? Why didn't I just be grateful that he finally left me alone and move on?

It's kind of confusing to me because when I think about all of this, sometimes I think, "I didn't really love him. So why the hell did I marry him?"

But then I start writing about it in my journal or here, and as I write, so many flashbacks hit me and I remember HOW MUCH I loved him. And even though our story is confusing and had so many ups and downs, I can reflect back on everything and see exactly how God prepared me.

I wanted to marry someone else. By the time I started dating Ben, the ex was supposed to come home from his mission in four months. FOUR. But I felt very strongly (and trust me when I say that I was so confused that I leaned on God for every single decision I made at the time) that I was supposed to date and then marry Ben. And I can't deny that.

I went to my local LDS PASG group Sunday night. After all the things I had been feeling (and have been feeling for months now, because let's be honest, I've been in a pit), being at group Sunday was exactly what I needed. Every single woman there said something in the discussion or their shares that I needed to hear.

I volunteered to share first, and I shared all my conflicting feelings about dating and marrying Ben and how I had been questioning everything. Two other women then shared very similar experiences, which was incredibly validating. Then, one woman talked about her dating and marriage experience. She said she didn't know why at the time, but she took the matter to God multiple times, asking His guidance on marrying her husband. She said, "It brings me great comfort now to know how many times God gave me guidance and approval to marry Husband. I didn't know why I kept asking for reassurance at the time, but I can look back now and know I didn't make a mistake. I didn't know about the addiction, but God did. My husband is the same as he was when I married him, I just didn't know all of who he was. But God did. And I know that things will be okay. Whether or not we divorce one day, things will be okay."

That really hit me. I felt so many parallels to my own life.

Life with an addict is HARD. So hard. Sometimes I think really violent thoughts towards him. Sometimes I wish I had never met him. BUT there has been so much good in our relationship. And I can't deny the good.

I think the thing that is the scariest for me is that after everything we have been through, what if we don't actually end up together for eternity because of his choices? I didn't marry him to end up not together. And I don't want to waste my time on this earth trying to make peace in our relationship and dedicate so much of my life to him here only to end up alone there.

I really do love him. Sometimes I block myself from feeling because feeling is too hard. But last night, in my prayer, God reminded me of everything. And as I've been writing this post, so many memories have hit me. I'm looking at all the pictures on the wall of our living room, and I see so much light and happiness in our past, and I see the hope for our future.

Sometimes I just get really mad at God and Ben for being in this situation. Anger is addictive and hard to move past. But I had an experience last night in prayer (that I will share in another post)  and Sunday night in group that I think will help me to finally move past the anger I've been feeling for the past five months.

When I left group on Sunday, I had a renewed dedication to my marriage. I felt a sense of strength towards sticking to my Safety Plan so I and our Little Man are safe. But I also felt a sense of commitment to my marriage and specifically dating each other. We did the whole "starting over" thing last summer and it was great for us. Granted, he was doing really well in recovery and not acting out like he is now. But as I rethink my boundaries and discuss things with him, I'm hoping that SOON, he will reach a point in his recovery where he is sober. He does have to prove his recovery to me. And then we can rebuild.

I'm terrified he will never have sobriety. But I'm trying to have faith, not fear. I know what God wants me to do with my life right now. So I'm taking the reins and doing what needs to be done for MY recovery and healing right now, and I'll let him figure out his.

I CAN heal, even if he is still active in addiction. His acting out should not determine my happiness.
I CAN heal. So I'm going to.

Meeting with Stake President

I met with my stake president on Sunday.

So. Many. Emotions.

I was really nervous. I felt that I needed to reach out to him at this point in my life, but how awful would it have been if I left there feeling invalidated and uncared for? That was a real fear because I didn't have a good experience with my bishop. And I didn't have a good experience with my LDS counselor who had stellar reviews from what I could tell (and the referrals I was given to him). So I was very nervous to meet with my stake president, but it exceeded expectations by far.

The meeting was exactly what I needed. I was heard. The things I was struggling with were not taken lightly, and he did not use them to make me feel foolish for not having some kind of blind faith in things I was struggling to understand. He listened. He heard. He taught. He spoke with love, kindness, and empathy. I could feel from him something I've been yearning to feel for a long time now in my current ward. The spirit and light I felt in that room with the stake president were simply undeniable, and I was reminded of the love my Heavenly Father has for me, for all of us.

At one point, he told me, "You have been dealt a very unfair hand." And he mourned with me. How validating is that?!

I'm so grateful I had this opportunity, and I'm even more grateful I didn't chicken out of my meeting. I gained so much, and it gave me strength. We had a really beautiful discussion about the Atonement, and reflecting back on this meeting has made some of my other trials this week that much easier.

So many of us have had poor run-ins with church leaders. I pray that we can all have an experience like this where you leave feeling understood, edified, and light.

SERENITY NOW!

Credit

Two days ago, I was doing my Jillian Michaels workout and had all these positive thoughts about my life. I was feeling a little sore and achy, so I was trying to listen to my body and not push too much. At the end of the workout, she says something like "It's not about the crunch, it's about being strong physically so you can be strong in every aspect of your life." That rings so true to me. When I can't/don't exercise, or when my body doesn't feel physically capable of life's challenges, it seems that all the emotional challenges are that much more tough (and this element of my life will make more sense a couple of paragraphs down).

As I stretched, I thought about her statement, along with some metaphors relating to knowing how to push my body without pushing past its abilities, and I thought, "I want to write a blog post about this. There is so much depth here to write about and the parallels with dealing with the addiction trauma."

But alas, somewhere during that workout, I injured my back and in a fit of rage, I thought, "Screw this. Screw everything. Apparently nothing I think or do is right or good because God keeps letting this crap happen to me."

A week ago, I was pretty deep in some depression related to the addiction trauma. I finally, FINALLY worked through it on Monday and the week went way up. One of my friends said something to me about not remaining a victim and finding a way to be happy despite the addiction rearing its head in my home. I took that to heart and thought, "You know what? I have been in victim mode." I think I sometimes like being in victim mode because I want to bring my husband down. I want him to realize what he is doing to our family, so I pout and remain a victim, hoping his eyes will be open to see what is happening. But there is a time and place for hurting and working through the pain, and then there is a time for it to be done and for me to stand up and keep pushing onward.

Once I realized I had it in me to step out of victim mode and re-engage in my "real" life, everything seemed so good (except my relationship with Ben--that was still suffering, but that's okay). A lot of things started clicking and I felt really happy. I was listening to my body and mind and doing what felt right every second.

Then this back thing happened.

Thursday night, I really struggled. I mean, I couldn't walk very well at all, and I couldn't even hold my baby. I had some moments where I felt completely abandoned by God because I've been trying to do everything right, and He let this happen to me. I struggled for a lot of reasons that I'm not going to get into because it would make this post a lot longer than it needs to be. The main thing I struggled with, though, was feeling so incredibly dependent on Ben AND not being able to care for my baby. Because we were trying to avoid an ER bill, I took some strong medicine that made it so I couldn't breastfeed (not that I could hold my baby anyway...but still...I couldn't try even if I wanted to), and the poor child had a rough 24 hours. I was also worried about Ben being able to care for the little guy without me because of some past impatience he has demonstrated that has left a lot of unresolved feelings in me.

I've had a lot of time to think and pray over the past 48 hours. And here is what I have learned:

Sometimes things just happen that are completely out of our control. When things like that happen, we have two choices. We can either mourn it and live in the past (what could have been done so this didn't happen to me?), or we can accept it and move on to the best of our abilities. I think it's healthy to have a little bit of both in there. I think it's normal to go through a period of anger or mourning when a major trial hits. But there is a point where you have to be able to accept it and move on if you want to remain emotionally healthy and not let the trial totally drown you. I've spent a lot of time in the anger and mourning period when it comes to this trial of addiction in my marriage. A LOT of time. But I can't change it. No amount of pleading with or anger at God changes it. I have to just grasp what is in my control and move forward.

I have a lot of theories about how/why this back injury happened. I also had a lot of anger about it happening. But none of that matters. What matters is what I see now.

I'm grateful for a husband who has majorly stepped up his game and not emotionally abused me to make me feel like this is somehow my fault or that I am a financial burden to this family (this is the second time I've gone to the ER this year...and because of various health issues I have, I've gone to the ER on average about once a year since we have been married. So...yeah.). I'm also grateful that he understands and has empathy for my frustrations regarding this injury and all that comes with it.

I feel like I've had a good perspective on this whole thing. It sucks, but I can't do anything about it. All I can do is the little things that can help me recover. Walk when I feel up to it. Rest when I feel like my body has had all it can handle. Practice doing things on my own (sometimes Ben still has to help support me as I sit down or stand back up). Study my scriptures (every day this week I have read the EXACT verses I needed, as if God is speaking straight to ME from the Book of Mormon). Pray. Call on the Atonement.

For as hard as I've worked to maintain a balance between being married and keeping distance over the past few months, I've had to let go of all of that and depend on Ben for so many things. And as much as this trial sucks, it's been really good for our marriage.

Every once in a while, I still get a twinge of anger. But I'm letting myself feel it and let it pass through me. It's okay to be angry, but it's not okay (for me right now) to let it fester and become ugly. The best thing for me is to allow myself to feel, accept the situation, recognize the good, and keep moving forward. And really, I'm making efforts to use the Atonement every day. Sometimes every moment. It helps keep the crazy in check. I love the Atonement. But that's another post for another day.

But don't get me wrong. Sometimes A lot of times, this is how I really feel...

And that's okay. 

Hard times and hope

I've been struggling lately. Like really struggling. The kind of struggling where you tell your husband that you don't really like him and struggle to love him. I've been here before. We have rebuilt before. I have held on to hope for so long, but lately it's just seemed so much harder. It's been hard to have hope. Hard to hold on. Hard to lean on the Savior. Hard to trust in anyone. Hard to give. Hard to love. Hard. Just hard. I'm exhausted. Emotional. Afraid.

I've become kind of hardened. There was a time when I placed full faith in my Savior, in the Atonement, in living the gospel and giving my all to life. During that time, everything that was hard was balanced out by my Savior. But over the past couple of years, things have been so rocky and it's been hard to hold on. Living with an active addict wears you down.

It's really easy to just not study my scriptures, not have a companionship study, and not give service or fulfill my callings. I'm struggling and no one sees it. I've been buried alive and it's just easy to say, "Ok. I give up. These things aren't changing things anyway. My husband still acts out. He still hides things. I still hurt, so why keep trying?" It's easy to give up an withdraw into myself.

I've spent the better part of the past year and a half depressed. I mean, I try to some extent. I haven't given up completely, but my trying has at times been very mediocre. Because I'm hurting and the "spiritual" things I've been doing haven't seemed to make changes anyway so why do all I could do when I feel like I'm barely floating? I've tried to rely on myself. At times, I've kind of taken God almost completely out of the picture.

I know this is kind of rambly, but what I'm trying to say is right now I'm reflecting back on the four very long years that I've known about this addiction. I can see the times when the Savior has lifted me up. And I can see the times when, in my anger and stubbornness, I've withdrawn from Him and counted only on myself. Guess which time brought me more peace and strength?

I'm trying to rebuild. Right now my relationship with my husband is kind of like two friends sharing an apartment and taking care of a baby together. And watching lots of Netflix. It's not really a terrible gig. But it's not a marriage, and it doesn't feel right.

As I have evaluated things, I've come to some conclusions and set goals for myself. The main thing I'm focusing on right now is bringing the Spirit into my home every day. For the first time in our marriage, we have studied the scriptures together every day for three weeks. We haven't missed a day in three weeks. And I get excited to do companionship study. That hasn't happened since we were dating or very newlyweds. I've also rededicated myself to studying the gospel on my own every day. I miss the occasional day, but rarely. Last week, I committed myself to studying during Baby's first nap of the day, and since I have started doing that, it's been really great. I've also committed myself to following promptings. I'm sure I miss some, but as I have started making an effort to recognize and follow my promptings, I'm discovering more and more promptings from the Spirit.

I've been really struggling lately. But through all my struggles, I've learned an important thing. No matter what, I can't do this without the Savior. I need Him. And even when I've left Him behind a bit and stubbornly tried to do this on my own, He has always been right here lifting me up and waiting on me to come back to Him.

I don't know when Ben will get into "real" recovery. I don't know when we will ever have a solid period of sobriety and recovery and be able to feel what life feels like without the addiction raging its massive head on us. I don't know if he will ever recover, and that scares me. I have so much fear of the future.

BUT

I do know that there is hope. There is. And I know that God is giving me little promptings every day to show me that hope. For example, today as I partook of the sacrament, He showed me a little bit of His love for Ben. He showed me that He has forgiven Him and that I will eventually be able to as well.

There is hope.

I said I've become hardened. I have. I feel jaded by the addiction, and it's been hard to feel any hope lately. But I know I've been distancing myself from God. So I'm working on becoming softer and more moldable. I'm bringing the Spirit into my life and heart, and I'm trying to follow what God wants me to do and allow Him to change me.

That's really all I can do right now. I can't control the addiction. But I can draw closer to the Savior and hold on to the peace and hope He can bring me.

He understands

I realized today that I'm not including God enough in my recovery and healing.

I've had a lot of emotions swirling through me in the past 15 hours. This morning, as I have been riding out the wave, I've wondered who to talk to and what to do. The pull to talk to my usual support people isn't very strong right now because I fear that  I will be told enough is enough. I'm afraid people won't support me in some of my decisions right now. And I just can't deal with that.

But I need guidance. And the thing is, no one can give me guidance. My friends and support people can tell me what they think based on their own experiences and limited knowledge of my relationship with my husband, but no one can really tell me what to do. I can't even tell me where to go from here because I honestly have no clue.

As I mulled this over and started feeling a little helpless, I remembered that God is there. He always listens, and He can see all. He knows what to do.

He understands the intense love I feel for Ben, even when he messes up. Along with that, He understands the inner conflict of emotions I have when Ben messes up.
He understands the pain I feel from the addiction.
He understands the heartache I feel to watch Ben struggle to overcome this beast that has been with him for over half his life.
He understands the fears I have regarding the addiction and our future family.
And He understands that I just can't deal with the addiction right now. I'm too pregnant. It's too hard.

So He can lift me up and hold me. And He can help me get through each moment.

I'm sad that I forgot how amazing God is. I've been doing the checklist of things to turn to Him every day, but it takes more effort to really include Him in my life. So that's what I'm working on--and I know I'll be okay.

My doctor says the baby can come any time. I'm hoping for sooner rather than later. But I'll trust God's timing on bringing this child to my arms as well as the other things I'm working on turning over to Him.

Dear 21 year-old Kilee

If you could write a letter to yourself back when you first learned of the addiction, what would you say?

I'd encourage everyone reading this to write their own letter. It's a very healing experience. Mine could have been longer, but I submitted it to something and it had to be less than 500 words. This isn't the first time I've written a letter to myself, though, and I know it won't be the last. Every time provides a little bit more healing.

Here's my letter:


Dear Kilee,

When you were married, you could never have imagined the betrayal and hurt Ben could cause you. You thought you were both on the same page and on the path to the celestial kingdom together. Now, in just a few seconds, your world has come crashing down.

You are so young, and you are embarking on the journey of a lifetime. Right now, you can't imagine it getting worse. It can. But it will also get better.

More will come: pain, darkness, heartache. At times, hope will seem completely lost. You will ponder the idea of divorce and even the possibility of taking your own life to escape the hell of the addiction.

There is more than darkness in your future. There is bounteous light and hope, and you will make it through the dark periods every single time. As you and Ben embrace recovery together, you will learn to love each other in ways you never thought possible. You will discover your greatest strengths and weaknesses. You will see the compassion and love you are both capable of. And you will start the rest of your family.

Through recovery, you will make friends you would have never known otherwise. You will learn lessons about friendship, vulnerability, and service. You will learn to love others and see them as Christ does.

You will learn about the Atonement, and you will be cradled in the arms of your Savior. You will learn how to follow promptings of the Holy Ghost. And you will be able to share a message of hope with others you come in contact with.

Ben will get into recovery. Eventually, he will acknowledge this is an addiction and he can't do it on his own. You will seek help together and become one in the fight against Satan and his efforts to destroy your family. You will be given knowledge and resources to help you understand the addiction. You will learn it's not your fault. You will learn you can't control the addiction. And eventually, you will turn it all over to God and trust in His plan.

You will go through hell on earth. But you will come out stronger and more beautiful. Four years from now, you will be welcoming a baby boy into your home, and you will be so grateful for the efforts you have put into your marriage and recovery. Things won't be perfect, but you will have hope and be grateful for the recovery path you are on together.

This addiction won't exempt you from other trials. So many hard things will come your way, but your experience with the Atonement will teach you that you are never alone. You will become a strength to your family and friends, and you will have a sense of gratitude for all the blessings God has given you.

Don't give up. You can do all through the power of God.

You are beautiful and strong. You can do hard things.

Love,

Me


When I wrote this, along with a little bio for my submission, something hit me. Hard. I mentioned in the letter that we will be welcoming in a baby boy four years from the time I first found out about the addiction. Well, that's awesome. But what's even more awesome is that we will be welcoming him into our family exactly one year (to the month) after things hit rock bottom in our marriage. Our son will come a year after we could have given up on our marriage but chose not to. So much healing has taken place this year, and I am so grateful we get to celebrate that with the entrance of our son into this family.

Three months to go!

Addiction, Forgiveness, and the Atonement--Another Woman's Story

A friend posted a link with the following story onto my timeline on Facebook. It is so powerful, and I feel like I have to share it.

I hope you get as much hope and peace from this story as I did.

Story came from here.

Name Withheld
When my husband and I were dating, he decided he had to tell me about his addiction to pornography. He was clearly embarrassed and repentant, and had been "sober" for some time. I was surprised but felt honored that he trusted me with this secret. If anything, I loved him more after that. This was a battle we were going to fight together. It was his past and we'd have to fight it, but we'd be fine. I wasn't so naive to think that it wouldn't cause strain in our relationship, but I didn't anticipate the heartache, anger, self doubt, and betrayal.

From MormonWoman.org

His sobriety lasted through our dating, engagement, and first three months or so of marriage. When he then admitted he had viewed pornography, I was felt so stupid. How did I not know what was happening in my own home? Was I not enough? I plunged into feelings of worthlessness.

I remember thinking, "He's such a good man. How can he do such a disgusting thing? He loves me. How can he do something so hurtful? Does he really love me?" I felt very alone. I respected the fact this was his secret to keep or share, but that left me with nobody to talk to. I was so hurt that I used anger to cope with the sorrow.

All of those feelings were mixed up with gratitude that he came to me with the truth and that he knew he was wrong. I was heartbroken that right when I needed comfort the most, I couldn't ask the man who stood at my side for a blessing of comfort. He was not worthy to use the Lord's priesthood. He knew it, and I could see how ashamed and sorrowful he was.

He couldn't give me a blessing, and because of the personal nature of the situation, I couldn't go to another priesthood holder. So I went before the Lord on my own. I read a book about Christ and the atonement called The Peacegiver. I spent time in prayer and meditation. Relief didn't come all at once, but I was given little assurances that we'd be able to overcome.

Things got better, and things got worse. We'd have months of sobriety between views. Each time he fell, I had to work through the same emotions and thoughts. Every time was a little different, but every time I needed my Savior to heal my broken heart.

We learned that high-stress situations sometimes triggered the temptation. We also learned that sometimes the temptation would come without a discernible trigger. I found the sooner he admitted to a fall, the easier it was to recover for both of us. If I asked him to report in every so often, it gave him the chance to feel safe to be open.

I made a few mistakes that I learned from. I learned that faking trust or forgiveness prolongs the process. Pretending everything was okay, telling my husband I forgave him when I hadn't yet, just made the pain fester and anger grow.

I had to be careful to focus on what I could control. I couldn't make him go to the bishop, make him attend a support group, or put enough protection on our technology to keep pornography unavailable. I could control if I was honest with myself and my husband about my feelings.

I could control my focus. I could focus on my husband's honesty and other good qualities. I could focus on the Savior and Heavenly Father. I could control my self talk. I didn't need to take blame, but could instead acknowledge that my husband has his agency and made the choice to sin on his own.

I also chose to study about the effects of pornography. I learned how the brain is rewired through the viewing of pornography. I learned how it really had little to do with physical needs, and more to do with a chemical in the brain, much like a drug addiction. No matter what I did, that rewiring could not be fixed.

I learned that the average Utah child sees pornography by age eight, according to one statistic. I came to appreciate what my husband was up against. Don't misunderstand: he still had his agency, he still had to take the blame for his actions. However, I came to realize he was fighting a battle that had nothing to do with my ability to be a good wife, friend, and support.

A huge low in our marriage was shortly after our first son was born. My husband had graduated and couldn't find work. I was working full time, and he was home with our baby. We were living in a rather dark basement with flooring that was in such disrepair that we laid blankets on the floors so we could set our infant down.

I loved my job, but it was stressful by nature, and the stress was compounded by leaving my baby. My husband felt useless, being unable to provide for us, and he fell into despair. That's when he hit a rut where he was giving into temptation regularly. I had to rely on the Lord more than ever.

One evening, after a particularly rough confession, I wanted space, but with such a little apartment there were not many options. I stood in the little hallway and tried to come up with a way to get that needed space.

I could control my focus. I could focus on the Savior and Heavenly Father.

I thought about asking him to go to his parents for a couple days, but who would watch my son while I worked? I thought about sending my son up with him to be watched by my mother-in-law, but the baby was still nursing and I didn't want space from him. I was at a loss, so I went to the bedroom and kneeled on the mat on the floor that served as our bed.

I opened my heart to the Lord like I had never done before. I prayed out loud, knowing I needed to get through. I needed my Heavenly Father to hear me. I sobbed and begged for His help. What surprised me, however, were the words coming from my mouth. I was not praying for me, but for my husband.

"Forgive him, Father. Please forgive him," I pleaded. I prayed for our home, for our son and for our marriage. I was overcome with the knowledge that God loves my husband. After that heartfelt prayer, I no longer wanted to send my husband away.

Things didn't change quickly. That rut lasted for a while longer. When our living situation changed (he got a job, I quit mine, and we moved into a much better apartment) my husband was able to avoid temptation for some time. When he did fall again, he was scared. Without a trigger to blame his fall on, he knew that he was never going to overcome on his own.

He made a plan and woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me he was making changes. After three years of marriage and ups and downs, I knew this day was a crucial one. He went to our new bishop and met with him regularly. He started attending the support group offered by the Church and even got the information for a support group for me.

That group was my haven. The lessons I learned from studying the manual were inspiring. I was filled with hope and joy. I saw that I wasn't alone. Other women were using the atonement to become whole. I saw my husband grow from attending his group too.

Through the whole experience I have learned about the atonement. I testify that Jesus Christ felt the pain that I go through. He understands the betrayal and he paid the price for the sins. He already paid the price, so I can accept his healing. He can bind up my broken heart.

From LDS.org

I'm blessed to have a repentant husband, but I now know that Christ's healing of my heart is completely independent of my husband's actions. The atonement is for the sinner, but it is also for the sinned against.

Forgiving my husband is my way of telling the Lord that his sacrifice was sufficient. It's my way to say, I trust that Christ can heal the aching holes and conquer the gnawing anger inside me. It takes me time to forgive my husband each time he hurts me, but I know I can because of the atonement of Christ.

There were moments where I was in a despair that I believed I would never be happy again. Through the atonement's healing power, my happiness was restored.

I testify that I am a daughter of Heavenly Father. I am beautiful and of worth. I love my husband. I am grateful for his honesty five years ago. I'm grateful for our four years of marriage, and I will continue to do my part to make it a celestial eternal marriage.

I testify of Christ. He gives me hope. He lives and loves my children, my husband, and me. Because of Him, we have joy.

Do all things really work together for my good?

Over the past couple of months, I've been really working on exercising my faith in God's plan and trusting that He has control. It takes a lot of faith in God and patience with myself--because my faith isn't perfect. I have moments of really giving up my control, but then I have moments where I get so scared and freaked out that I start trying to reign in control (and of course, that doesn't work and causes me to make choices and act based on fear).

As I've been working Healing Through Christ, step 3, I've had to really focus on what I'm doing to turn my will and life over to God. It's hard. Like, really hard.

Today, I was faced with the question: How can I come to believe that Heavenly Father is working all things together for my good--even when they aren't happening as I'd hoped?

The question seems simple, but it's actually very tricky. Because part of me wants to believe that all things are working together for my good--that God is in control. But then part of me has a hard time believing it because life is just so damn hard sometimes.

As I focus on exercising my faith in His plan, the two things that have really helped me see that He is in control are 1) expressing gratitude and looking for the good in my life, despite the hard, and 2) looking for opportunities to learn from my trials.

Sometimes in the recovery world, we get so caught up in expressing our emotions and being validated and heard, that it can be hard to snap out of the negative. Sometimes we feel there is literally nothing to be grateful for. I'm saying we, but I really mean me (I just assume I'm not alone in these feelings...). There is a time and a place for those feelings. There really is. But I've found that it's important to feel my pain and validate it, but then to see the beauty that is coming from the pain and trials I am facing. Or to see the beauty in my life despite the trials I am facing.

When I see beautiful things in my life, I give a quick thanks for it. I'm not very good at writing in my gratitude journal every day, but I am getting much better at really digging inside myself and expressing gratitude for what I have in my prayers. I am getting much better at expressing gratitude from my heart and looking for opportunities to learn from my trials and see the beauty unfolding even when it's really hard.

Gratitude and learning are key elements, at least for me, to see that Heavenly Father truly is working all things together for my good. He may not like the things happening in my life, especially trials that come as a result of my or another person's agency. But He will help me make each experience something that works for my good.

We hear "all things happen for a reason." That may be true. But it also might not be. This might not have been part of God's plan for me. Women who have suffered serious abuse and trauma might not have been necessarily given that by God. It may have just happened at the hands of the abuser because of that person's choices. But God is always there and He will provide us with the means to endure. And THAT is what will make all things work together for our good.

I'm trying to keep focus on what I'm grateful for and the beauty in my life so the hard doesn't drown me.

How do you come to believe that Heavenly Father is working all things together for your good--even when things are hard as hell?

"Someone has already paid."

Sometimes I'm doing just fine. Other times, not so much.

Yesterday morning, I felt anger. So many things ran through my head, and I was just SO ANGRY. I hurt for lost innocence in my marriage and everything I have suffered because of the addiction. When that happens, my thoughts sometimes wander to, "I want him to pay. He needs to really understand what he has put me through. It's not fair that I am feeling this pain." It's not a very Christlike attitude...But it's reality. I think when we get hurt or offended, we all go there sometimes.

In the most recent General Conference, President Packer gave a talk on the Atonement. I'm reading it today, and this paragraph stood out:

I recently received a letter from a woman who reported having endured great suffering in her life. A terrible wrong, which she did not identify but alluded to, had been committed against her. She admitted that she struggled with feelings of great bitterness. In her anger, she mentally cried out, “Someone must pay for this terrible wrong.” In this extreme moment of sorrow and questioning, she wrote that there came into her heart an immediate reply: “Someone already has paid.”

I reflected on the moment I had yesterday, along with many other moments of anger and justice-seeking. I don't need to seek justice because justice has already been met. And just like I can't carry the burden of my pain alone, Ben wouldn't be able to carry the burden of what he has done alone. Christ has paid for what Ben has done. Because He has met the demands of justice, Ben and I have both been extended the mercy that allows us to be able to heal. The Atonement covers all pain--the pain of the sinner, and the pain of the hurt.

This doesn't mean I have to heal quickly, but it means I can heal. Healing takes time and that is okay. I'll just try to be patient and remember that I CAN be healed. (And so can Ben.)

Sometimes I get lonely

It's true.

I don't know if that's hard for people to imagine because I am a fairly bubbly person. I like being around people (though I'd say I'm more on the introverted side than extroverted). I like making friends and spending time with friends. And heck, I'm open about the hard things going on my life. Or at least I am on this blog. But talking about it on the blog is much different than talking about it in person.

This year has been really hard for me. It's also been a huge blessing in a lot of ways, but right now I'm dealing with the hard.

It's been hard because of the hell in February.
It's been hard because I was severely depressed when I moved. And I wasn't able to have a counselor to help me through that.
It's been hard for me to make friends because it's hard for me to really open up in person. I feel like I don't know how to relate to the "real world." I feel safest in my recovery bubble, and I'm kind of afraid of people who are not in that recovery bubble.
I am pregnant, which has definitely been the highlight of my year. But my pregnancy has been really hard, physically. I was really sick the first 18ish weeks. And now I'm on bed rest (temporarily).
I'm still dealing with porn in my life. That's hard.
I'm even more afraid to open up to people in "real life" because of an event that happened with a friend who I was open with.
Ben works a lot to support us. Because I can't work right now. I feel lonely all day, and even sometimes at night when he is home because his mind is elsewhere.

So that's part of it.

Sometimes I get lonely.

As I studied my scriptures and wrote in my journal today, I wrote about figuring out how to use the Atonement right now. I know I'm supposed to be constantly learning more about the Atonement and learning how it applies to me. I want to draw closer to Christ because I know that it is only through Him that I will be healed.

For today, this is what I came up with as I was writing in my journal about the hard and the lonely.

Christ felt lonely too. He led a perfect life and then suffered in the Garden and on the cross. While in the Garden, He asked His disciples to stay awake. When He came out and they were asleep, I imagine He felt lonely. All He asked is that they would be awake with Him while He took on all the pains and sins of the world. And they fell asleep.

But at that time, He had angels strengthening Him. However, on the cross is where He felt the loneliest. We see that when He cries, "My God, why has thou forsaken me?" Through His entire journey, He felt the presence of God except at that time. At that time, He had to do it alone.

So He knows how I feel. And because He has felt loneliness in a way I will never feel, He knows exactly what I need to help me through mine. And He really has been giving me little things to help me through. So I guess I'm not as lonely as I sometimes feel.

I have felt angels lifting me up. I know I'm never truly alone.

The Power of Choice

I have a document where I post my favorite recovery quotes and scriptures as I come across ones that hit me on a particular day. Today, I started reading through it and was struck by one word in a particular scripture:

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27)

Let implies that I have some kind of power--that I have the power to let my heart be troubled or to let my heart be afraid. On the other side of that, I have the power to let my heart be filled with the peace that Christ offers, which would replace the troubles and fears.

Let is a powerful word.

As I pondered this idea, I thought of a lot of things. So many times, I've let negative emotions hang with me. I've gotten to the point in my recovery where I do recognize my own conscious choices to stay angry or negative because of certain things. Granted, there was a time when I felt controlled by my emotions. And sometimes I still feel controlled by my emotions. But there is a huge power in my relationship with Christ and my recovery. Because of my journey to healing, I really can identify my emotions and choose how to deal with them. That's something I've learned how to do.

Sometimes I choose to be angry and bitter. And I will admit sometimes that choice is to make Ben suffer because of how I have suffered. But sometimes that choice is simply because I can't find the light at that time (or possibly refuse to see the light?).

Sometimes I choose to process my emotions in healthy ways rather than letting myself be bitter and angry. When I process and take the time for self-care, I am much happier. And I'm finally getting to the point where I would like to choose to be happy rather than wallow in self-pity and anger (that place is wobbly for me--it comes and goes).

This week I've been swallowed in many fears. I know deep down, however, that no matter what, Christ has my back and I will not be miserable for eternity. I also know I will be happy no matter what--no matter the outcome of this addiction in my marriage.

Christ has given me peace and light so many times. Sometimes I choose to ignore that (and like I said, sometimes I do just feel controlled by emotion because of the situation), but I also know I can choose to  "let not [my] heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

Shouldering pain

Credit

Something weird happened.

Last week was overall pretty amazing. I was happy, and my pregnancy sickness almost completely disappeared. It was like I was living a completely different life. Almost.

I talked to Ben about it on Saturday night. I expressed how happy I had been and my fears that it wouldn't last. I'm really trying. I'm really trying to live to my fullest potential. I'm really trying to turn my hurts over to the Savior and not let the pains I experience bring me to a complete downward spiral. I've been a lot closer to the Savior, and I have felt strength and progress in the way I handled an extremely hurtful situation that happened last Wednesday and how that strength carried me through every day as I battled my depression.

Last week was like a dream. I felt depression coming back on Saturday night. As I talked to Ben, I said, "I think I remember it always being like this. I think I remember being a generally happy, loving, and forgiving person. But I don't really remember. My memory is foggy. It's like, I know I can live like this because it was that way once. If that was reality and not just a dream." He kindly reminded me that I did live a joyful, loving life once upon a time and that I could have that again. The Savior was showing me the light in the darkness. It's joyful weeks like last week that keep me going.

I reached a really high point.

But then, on Monday, the weird thing happened. I woke up and threw up almost all day (among other pregnancy awfuls). It was one of the worst pregnancy sickness days I have experienced. In the morning, I was doing pretty good. I had a positive attitude and every motivation to make it through the day with joy even though my body was trying to tell me it was experiencing anything but joy. However, by mid-afternoon and especially early evening, I was a complete mess. My sickness got worse throughout the day, and in what seemed like the flip of a switch, I was bitter and angry.

I begged God to have mercy on me. I expressed how much I was hurting (my body was hurting everywhere) and how hard it was to go on. I cried and pleaded, and nothing. No pain was taken away. I tried for so long to have a positive attitude, and when my body went to complete crap, I gave up and allowed myself to be bitter and angry at God for throwing that hell day at me when I had been working so hard to make big changes in my life.

After I explored the bitterness for a while, I finally humbled myself enough to pray and dig deep within myself to ask for help through the Atonement. I had voiced to Ben, "I know the Atonement will help me feel less alone and that God hasn't abandoned me. But I'll still be in pain. I don't care if I'm alone. I just want to have less pain. He may give me strength to bear the pain, but I don't want that. I want less pain." [There was probably some swearing in my head].

I honestly didn't know how the Atonement would help me in that moment. I almost didn't believe that I would feel any different. However, I changed my prayers from the begging for mercy and asking for help to asking for help understanding how the Atonement could change me through this or how the power of having the Savior by my side could really help me bear the pain.

Relying on the Atonement to bear the pain, rather than begging for the pain to be taken away, changed the whole situation. It's hard to explain, but I really felt some kind of physical lift of my pain. The pain was lifted just enough that I could think a little more clearly and know I wasn't going to die because of the pain. Ben stayed by my side, holding me and offering comfort, but I felt the presence of angels around me and lifting me up as well. And whenever I took my heart away from the Savior and focused too much on the pain, I lost focus on the Atonement. Thankfully, we have a picture of Christ on our wall, which happened to be in my direct line of sight while I was bedridden. Looking at Him and searching for understanding of the Atonement helped me feel lighter when I felt too weighed down.

It's amazing how light and happy I felt last week to the huge switch in my physical health that caused me to fall into bitterness. But it's also amazing how I can learn time and again lessons about the Atonement. I don't want to ever forget that experience because it really showed me how Christ can help shoulder my burden in a way I haven't experienced before. It's something I can carry with me in all my pains.

I really hate physical pain. I've experienced so much physical pain in my life that it's starting to take a huge emotional toll on me. And physical pain combined with emotional pain seems to hurt exponentially more. But I know that no matter what, I can bear any pain with Christ by my side.

Scoreboard

It's amazing how the trauma resulting from situations in my life can continue to have an impact on my life. No matter how hard I try to deal with my life appropriately.

I've lost a friend because of my depression. Score 1 for Satan and trauma. *sigh*

However, I've been working really hard on my recovery this week. On Sunday, when I had that realization that I don't know how to live a "normal" life, and I don't know how to be happy, I told myself that I will learn. I will find happiness and joy again. I've been taking baby steps this week to regain what has been lost.

I've given myself tasks every day. Things that need to get done. I even write them down so I don't forget (pregnancy brain/foggy depression brain have kicked in a cause me to forget in an instant what I should be working on). I spent time with some friends on Tuesday. I've been working on keeping the apartment clean and in order, something that Ben has put in more than his fair share of doing while I've been in a depressive slump. Heck, I've even cooked dinner EVERY NIGHT THIS WEEK. That is huge for me :)

I have permission from my bishop to find a counselor. The ward will help me pay for it.

Today, I'm going to work on my to-do list. And I'm also going to read a book. Or two.

I've turned to God every day.

And when I was really lost in trauma because of a situation that happened yesterday, I stood back from the moment and looked at the options, "I can lose myself in the depression of this situation. I can be angry and choose to be prideful. Or I can ask God for His help. I can ask for His hand to hold mine as I mourn this situation, and I can ask for Him to speak to my heart and guide me in handling this situation appropriately."

I chose the latter.

It's amazing what reaching out to God first can do. I reached out to Him before anyone else. And I've felt His presence lifting me up when I feel like I'm falling down.

So even though this trauma has had far-reaching effects and have caused a friendship to almost vanish before my eyes, this trauma has also taught me. I've learned how to search my soul. I've learned how to turn to God. I've learned what of the power of gratitude. I've seen beauty in so many ways.

Satan got one point this week. But God is on my team, and with Him, my team has so many more points. 

Fear? FEAR.

Lately, I've been paralyzed by fear. I've been living in this dark place, allowing the darkness and fears to rule me because I don't know how else to live.

Yesterday, I had this brief moment of true happiness. It was during sacrament meeting. People were bearing their testimonies, and I had this powerful moment of bearing my testimony to myself, in my heart. I felt true joy. I felt God's presence, and I was reminded that I am not alone. I am never alone. He sees me and knows my pain, and I can get through the hard things because of Him. In that moment, I also noticed that I was completely free of my pregnancy nausea, and I had this thought: I don't know how to live anymore.

Not that I don't want to live or am feeling suicidal. That's not what I mean. I mean, I really, truly don't know how to live. I don't know what to do with these moments of joy and peace I feel. I don't know what to do with the moments free of pregnancy nausea. If these moments became my daily reality, I don't know what I would do. Right now, I know depression. I know exhaustion. I know the feeling of giving up and feeling defeated. I don't know how to feel joy and make it last through the day. I don't know how to do the things I once used to love when my physical and emotional pains are lessened. I don't know how to live life without fear or pain.

It's sad.

I have so many fears:

• I'm afraid of future relapses. 
• I'm afraid Ben will give up and leave me.
• I'm afraid I will be a terrible mom.
• I'm afraid I will always be depressed, and that will have a negative impact on my mothering ability.
• I'm afraid I will always feel alone.
• I've decided not to go to Togetherness next month. I'm afraid I will lose all my Togetherness friends because I'm not present and making connections with everyone who is there. 
• I'm afraid of working as a substitute teacher. I'm afraid I will be a terrible sub, and I'm afraid I will never make enough money to help us out of the financial hole we are currently experiencing. (And since I'm pregnant, I'm afraid I will have to go to the bathroom all the time and not be able to...)
• I'm afraid to busy myself with things I used to love (painting, reading, exercising) because I'm afraid they will take up too much time and I won't make friends where I currently live.
• But I'm afraid to try to make friends because I'm afraid I don't know how to be a real person anymore and I'm afraid people won't like me. Or I'm afraid I will share too much about my life, thus scaring any potential friends away from me.
• I'm afraid I am or will be too needy with my friends and become a burden on them.
• I'm afraid to exercise because I might throw up.
• I'm afraid Ben resents me because I've been so depressed and putting a lot on his plate because of my inability to cope with life.
• I'm afraid I will never feel whole again.

Whew. The list could go on, but I'm afraid if I keep addressing my fears, I will never recover. Writing those out was emotionally draining. And I'm afraid to finish this post and let people see the (possibly irrational) inner fears I am experiencing and attempting to work through.

There was a time when I chose not to let fear rule me. If I had a fear, I challenged and faced it. I owned my fear and showed it who was boss. That's not me anymore. I've become so paralyzed by my fears and depressions that I just don't know how to live without them anymore. And I'm afraid to make changes because change is uncomfortable.

I'm studying step 2 in Healing Through Christ. This is a powerful step where you come to believe the power of God can restore you to spiritual and emotional health. Today, as I looked over the questions I'm supposed to answer, I scrolled back up to the reading the questions cover. In that reading, it has "Steps we take to surrender fearful emotions."

1. Identify our fears. Done.
2. Face and own our fears. "...fear literally robs us of our faith and hope in Christ. We understand that 'God can heal a broken heart, but [we] have to give Him all the pieces.'"
3. Prayerfully surrender our fears to our Savior. "Rather than allowing ourselves to fall back into painful emotions, we continue to choose to fall to our knees and surrender all of our emotional struggles to our Savior, allowing our tender mercies and grace to bless our lives."

Even though my trust is fragile, and I give pieces to my Savior and take pieces back, I have developed enough trust in Him to know that He really is trustworthy. I know He can heal me. I know He can save me from these fears, pains, and depression that is taking over my life. I have to give it to Him, though. And because I'm stubborn, it's really hard to give these pieces to Him constantly. 

Life is a constant struggle. Some days are easier than others. Some days the hard hits like a ton of bricks and I don't know how to move. But I can move because Christ is by my side lifting me up and carrying me. I am trying to remember that. 

I am trying to work through these fears. I am trying to face and own them. I am trying to surrender them to my Savior. But it's a hard, emotional process.

I know I'm not alone in living with silent struggles (I once became fairly vocal, but I've become more silent lately). We all have silent struggles. I hope and pray that everyone is gentle with one another as we fight the things we are fighting.

Oh Lord, how many times?

How often do I need to be reminded that I can't do this alone? This being life.

I've struggled with a faith crisis, as is normal among women who have gone through trauma. I think it's good for life to shake your faith and make you question things. It makes us stronger and gives us a deeper love for what we do come to believe in.

This faith crisis has been brought on by many things. There are a lot of things I have been wrestling with. But the most important thing is my faith in God. I've wondered if He is actually there. And if He isn't...that would change everything. Everything. I've wondered if Christ is real. Is He real? Is the Atonement real? Am I really never alone? Is He really always there for me? Because I've felt alone many times.

When it comes down to it, I feel that the most important thing I need to reconcile is my faith in God and Christ. So that's what I've been focusing most of my efforts on.

As I've been questioning things lately, I keep finding little answers or things that help me hold on. A tender mercy that is in no way coincidental. A little sign that God is aware of me. Sweet feelings of peace when I work on my Healing Through Christ steps, pray, and ponder. I've received so many blessings. There are so many things that show me I am not alone. I am never alone.

And yet, Satan still trickles in there forcing me to ask questions and second-guess everything I know and feel. But I'm starting to learn how to sort out the things I know from the things I think I know and the things that need a little more work. I'm learning how to hold on to the things I do know and work on the rest. I'm learning how to recognize what is from Satan and what is from God.

And God, bless Him, keeps giving me little challenges to test my faith. He keeps showing me that I can't do this alone. I can't. But He is always there with me.

Yesterday, I spent four hours at the hospital. This week has felt like the pregnancy week from hell. I've been so sick. After the intense nausea buildup Monday and Tuesday morning, I started throwing up Tuesday night and yesterday morning. I've had quite my fill of pregnancy barfing, and I am equipped to handle it. Or, I thought I was until yesterday when I realized I hadn't kept anything down in almost 24 hours and the barfing would. not. stop. I called my doctor to ask at what point I should be worried and possibly need an iv. I described what I was experiencing in my body. Her response? "Now. Go to the ER and explain what is going on and get fluids in you."

All the retching put my back in a foul condition. And caused other physical issues. Needless to say, I was pretty miserable.

Last night I expressed to Ben that I feel traumatized by my life. I've experienced a lot of different physical and emotional traumas that I'm starting to wonder if I'll go crazy and freak out about every little thing. I also sometimes wonder how I can keep going. And why God keeps letting me have these challenges when I KNOW He could very easily call some of this off (or all of it, but I wouldn't expect Him to let me go without any trials...).

I asked for and received a Priesthood blessing last night. And I hate to admit, I was a little MAD at God that I wasn't just told I would be healed or that I wouldn't throw up any more and I could finish the pregnancy smoothly. I was MAD that whenever I ask for blessings of healing, I am never healed. I am just given strength or whatever and instructed to use the Atonement. I just want to be healed and be done with this crap.

As I've thought about the words that were said in my blessing, along with my initial reaction, I was hit with this thought that if God did take away this pain 100% or assure me that I would be physically healed every time I asked Him to heal me, I would never learn. I would never grow. I would always crap out because of the expectation that He will heal me. I would never develop a real sense of faith or understanding of the Atonement and how that works in my life.

I'm so stubborn. Seriously. How often do I need to be reminded that I can't do this alone? How many times does God have to tell me He will give me the strength to keep going as I seek Christ and let Him carry my burdens? I used to know how to do that. And then I got too comfortable. And then I became too traumatized and started shutting down.

I have to keep going. I have to seek Christ.

I'm working on step 2 in Healing Through Christ. It's all about believing that the power of God can restore me. Today, I answered a lot of questions about the Atonement and my relationship with Christ. I've been kind of avoiding this part because I'm afraid to really dig deep into my faith crisis and identify what exactly is going on. The questions were pretty simple, but as I dug deep within myself, I found things I have buried.

I do feel traumatized by my life. I have been through a lot--even outside what I have suffered from this addiction. I'm getting tired. Just tired.

If Christ is my Savior, and if He really does know and understand my pain, what is holding me back from welcoming that in and turning to Him with my burdens?

Fear. I'm afraid that maybe He isn't actually there, so I kind of don't want to test it. I'm afraid that maybe He won't save me. Or maybe His will is different from my will.

I want to believe He is there. In fact, I do believe He is there. I'm just wounded and haven't picked myself up yet to go find Him and ask Him to tend to my wounds. Because maybe I'm afraid that He is also so wounded that He won't be able to carry me (which I KNOW is not true).

I know He can carry me. I've had that witnessed to me many times. I know He is there. I've had that witnessed to me many times as well. I know I am never alone. Those witnesses are what I hold on to. I have been given light. I have been given multiple instances to see God's hand in my life. And I hold on to those. I cling to them, actually.

I'm never alone.

I'm never alone.

I'm never alone.

I can't do this alone.

How many times do I have to be shown that I can't do this alone?

I don't know. But I do know that if I turn my burdens over to Him, He will be there and will help pick me up. And I can keep carrying on because He is by my side.

He will keep testing me. And I will keep getting stronger.

Maintaining My Recovery

The group I attend in Texas is on Sunday nights. I don't really love that because I always selfishly want Sundays to be about spending more time with Ben...but I determined that I would attend group here regularly. Because I need to. I really need to, and I recognize that. (insert exasperated sigh) It's just so easy to come up with excuses not to go, and the fact that it's on Sunday is one of those easy excuses. "I need time with Ben. I'm healing my marriage," is one of the tricks Satan uses to talk me out of going. That, and yesterday, there was the fact that it was Easter.

I went back and forth all day about going to group or not. Because it was Easter. "There might not be many people there. Or maybe it's supposed to be cancelled, but they forgot to tell us last week. So I'll drive 25 minutes and the church will be locked." Excuses, excuses. Then, Ben was having a hard time, and I co-dependently wanted him to tell me he needed me to stay home so I could use that as an excuse. Except when I realized I was not being true to myself, I took a moment to really think about why I didn't want to go to group. The plain and simple truth was that I was afraid of going because it's still a new group. And I was being lazy because it's a 25 minute drive. So I said a little prayer in my heart asking for guidance, and I felt like I needed to be there.

I needed to be there, and I'm so glad I went. There was no better way that I could have honored Christ on the Sabbath, and especially on Easter.

One reason I needed to be there was because we had a new attendee. It was her first group experience EVER, as she had discovered the porn just a week ago. I was able to have a really good conversation with her and bear testimony of the hand of God in my life--my recovery, my husband's recovery, and OUR recovery. I was able to bear testimony of so much, and it was a really powerful experience for me (and I hope it was for her as well).

Another reason I needed to be there was because we studied step 10--my favorite. Well, they are all my favorites, but step 10 was my favorite last night.

I love step 10 because it is a gentle reminder and application of ALL THE STEPS. It's a reminder that we need to hold ourselves accountable on a daily basis.

I kind of stopped working the steps because I was really depressed. And, I'll be honest, I really struggled with my group in Arkansas because it was so small and I felt like I wasn't getting much out of it. I was just in a bad place and had a hard time finding my way out.

The "bad place" comes and goes. I really fought it last week. Bad. It was a chore to get up and get dressed every day. I counted the fact that I woke up as an accomplishment. And if I did the dishes or made dinner it was an accomplishment. Sometimes we have weeks like that, and we really need them. I know I am mourning and grieving still, and it was necessary for me to have that time last week to process. I don't regret needing that time to process or feel depressed. But I did behave in ways, on occasion, that were mean. I use depression and PMS as an excuse to be mean, and it's not okay. SO...

How much different could my week have been had I been applying the 12 steps?

I know the 12 steps don't always strike everyone's hearts like they do mine, but I have a firm testimony in them. It is my personal belief that no matter what you say, we all need and use the 12 steps (it's a powerful tool to recovery when combined with the other tools out there. I certainly don't think there is any one way for anybody to recover). Even if it's subconscious. I mean, the only true way to "come unto Christ and be perfected in Him" is through the process of understanding that we are not in control of our lives, hoping in God's power to restore us to complete spiritual health, deciding to turn our life over to Him, experiencing a change of heart, being humble, seeking forgiveness and repentance, practicing the principles of the gospel on a daily basis, seeking and carrying out the Lord's will in our lives, and giving service. No matter what your circumstance may be.

I am very familiar with the pattern of the 12 steps. I am familiar with the message and power they give me. I am familiar with the process of carrying them out, and yet I still forget about them. More especially, I still forget about daily accountability.

I was reminded recently (in a church talk or lesson? The book I just finished reading? I don't know) that Jesus Christ is supposed to be my best friend. I need to be turning to Him before I turn anywhere else. When I am struggling with the depression, pain, anxiety, and grieving that has been caused by this addiction, I need to turn to Him first. I have many ways of processing, but when I humble myself and ask for His help, I always pull out of the depression faster. Always. And that should really be the first step I take to get out of the "rut." Sometimes it takes me days before I turn to Him because I still harbor that pride saying, "I can do this on my own." Sometimes it takes me hours. Sometimes I know I need to be humble, so I will attempt humility, but it's not truly in my heart (which doesn't work that well, but does work better than no attempt at all). Regardless, I know without a doubt that God has always heard and answered my prayers when I turn to Him humbly with full purpose of heart.

That brings me back to my question: How much different could my week have been had I been applying the 12 steps? Specifically Step 10: Daily Accountability?

As we studied and discussed this chapter last night, it was like a nice slap in the face. It was a gentle reminder of truths I desperately needed to hear. It was full of guidance I need for future weeks:

"The first nine steps helped you learn a pattern of life based on spiritual principles. These principles now become the foundation on which you build for the rest of your life...The final three steps will help you maintain your new spiritually minded way of life, so they are often called the maintenance steps."

"Self-evaluation..."

"...maintaining a mighty change of heart takes effort."

"To retain what you have gained, you must stay in fit spiritual condition."

"Continue to watch for pride in all its forms, and humbly take your weaknesses to your Heavenly Father."

"If you feel worried, self-pitying, trouble, anxious, resentful, carnal minded, or fearful in any way, turn immediately to the Father and allow Him to replace these thoughts with peace."

I need to ask Heavenly Father to remove my negative thoughts and feelings.

I need to examine my motives. And sometimes they are not pure. Sometimes I am manipulative. Because I'm hurting.

Am I taking care of my basic spiritual, emotional, and physical needs? (Self care! Boom!)

Do I serve others?

I need to be alert for old thinking patterns and behaviors during highly stressful situations.

"The Lord has all power. I'll relax and trust Him."

"Cast aside pride and remind yourself that sincerely saying 'I was wrong' is often just as important in healing a relationship as saying 'I love you.'" This especially applies to me--because, believe it or not, I do enough wrong in our relationship. And I harbor lots of pride because Ben is the one who should be apologizing to me regularly, right? Nope. I still need to recognize what I am doing wrong.

Before I go to bed, I need to examine my entire day and counsel with the Lord.

I will continue to make mistakes, but by committing to step 10, I am committing to take full responsibility for my mistakes.

I can't just sit back and ride along. If I live my life that way, I won't get very far. Sitting back for the ride has its place and is necessary sometimes, but I'm getting to the point where sitting back and riding the emotions isn't going to cut it much longer. It's certainly been helpful, and I know I will still need that practice at times in the future, but I need to make serious effort to living my life the way it needs to be lived or my recovery and healing. I need to adhere to the principles I know will bring me to Christ. I need to maintain my recovery. To do that, I need self-evaluation. I need humility and repentance. I need to stay in "fit spiritual condition." And humility. I need to turn to the Father and allow Him to replace my negative thoughts with peace. I need self-care. And service. I need to be alert. And trust God. I need to counsel with God--morning and evening. I need to bring Him into my life like He is my best friend.

All of this is easier said than done. But I'm working on wholehearted healing, people! These are the things I need to be doing to experience true healing and a closer relationship with my Savior.

Right now I'm full of light, hope, and energy. I know it changes daily--sometimes hourly. It's all part of the healing process. But these days, I am finding more hope and light than despair and darkness. I hope to keep it that way. And I can--if I follow the maintenance steps, which basically means I follow all the steps. And live with them close to my heart. Daily.

You know what?

This week I've faced a lot of emotion. I've fought shame, triggers, and trauma. I've had ups and downs. But I feel great.

Yesterday, I talked to my cousin on the phone for a while. She didn't know about the addiction, but I felt like I should tell her. Plus, it's so hard to answer, and feel honest, when people ask how things are going without bringing up the addiction. Or at least saying we are having marital trouble.

As I poured out the effects of the addiction on our marriage and how we have struggled in the past year, especially the past few months, I boldly stated, "I know this sounds awful and it's a lot to take in. But I love my life." It even took me a little by surprise.

But you know what? I love my life.
Sometimes I hate it, but there are so many beautiful things in my life.

God grants me tender mercies every day.
I have amazing friends who I wouldn't have met were it not for the addiction.
I have an amazing husband. Even if we somehow don't make it through this, there is too much good in our marriage to be hateful of the experience we have had together (which leads me to believe we will make it through this... but I'm having trust issues, so it's hard to be vulnerable enough to say that without some kind of disclaimer).
I have a stronger relationship with God then I could ever imagine. How could I hate something that has brought me so much closer to my Father and my Savior?
I have learned that no trial exempts me from other trials. I've also learned that I can master anything if I turn to God.
I have learned what it means to love with my whole heart.
I have learned the true meaning of surrender to God.
I have learned who my true friends are.
I see light [almost] every day, even if just for a brief moment in time. And it is those pockets of light that pull me through the darkness.
I'm starting to really understand the "plan", the Atonement, charity, and joy.
I'm discovering who I truly am. And I love who I am.
I'm learning how to use my talents to facilitate joy--in my life and the lives of others around me.

That's just part of it.
But I truly believe that I can love my life, even if the addiction is a part of it. I hope and pray that we are close to truly kicking the addiction to the curb. I hope and pray that we are on the adventure together--climbing back up and building the greatness that can be our life. Together.

Regardless of what he chooses, I know I can be happy. So I am trying to choose that.

I Am Broken

I recently made some big decisions that are potentially life-altering.

What it comes down to is this: after much thought, consideration, weighing, and prayer/personal revelation, I have decided to quit my job and move to Texas. I will move sometime in the next 10-14 days.

Whaaaaaat?

Yeah.

If you're new to this corner of the world, I'm a teacher. I teach high-school in a very small town. Not only does this decision have a huge impact on me and my life, it is going to have a major impact on my students, the kids I hold dear to my heart. They are my babies. I love them with a love you can only know as a teacher. I ache for the ones I know won't adjust well. I ache for the sub who's life may feel miserable for a bit until my students trust her more and miss me less.

I've received a lot of negativity about leaving. I've been told I'm being irresponsible and inconsiderate to break my contract. I've been told that I'm not trying hard enough to make it work, and that if I tried hard enough, I could last until the end of the school year. I've been told that I'm letting my students down. I've been begged by students to stay here. I've been told that "husbands are overrated anyway", in joking of course, but the message still stuck.

I've also received a lot of positive feedback about my decision. For most people, I've just explained it simply: "Well, my husband started a new job six weeks ago, and we are experiencing some family crises right now and after much thought and prayer, I feel like I need to be with him to help take care of my family." It's a simple answer that most people respect and/or admire. Even my students respect it. Some students have seen through that story, though, and have realized that it's not just "family issues" or "family crises." I've confided to a few people (the students who have seen through me, along with some faculty members) that it's not just "family stuff"--it is, in fact, marital stuff. My marriage is at risk. Only two people at school know the real issue comes down to porn stuff.

So, I'm moving to Texas, right now, in the middle of the school year, for what feels like a true effort to save my marriage (that "save my marriage" part stems from recent developments/disclosures/trauma since he moved to Texas).  

My marriage is at risk. I hate saying that. But I'm trying to embrace it, I guess.

My marriage is at risk. My marriage is at risk. My marriage is at risk. [Betrayal trauma is real.]

I know I am not in control of what happens here. I know there are so many factors that are completely not up to me. I know I can only do so much, and I know I can't control his addiction. But, I do feel that I need to go to Texas. I have received spiritual confirmation, and no amount of people criticizing this decision or thinking of the alternative will make me change my mind. Sure, it adds stress, but I know this is the right move on my part.

I'm making a lot of sacrifices to do this.

I also have a lot of fear. There are so many what-ifs. [Betrayal trauma is real.]

I'm a little angry that I feel like my marriage is in such a desperate state. It's not fair. This was not supposed to be my life. And, heck, I've only been married for three and a half years. I'm too young to feel so much pain and heartache.

I keep learning new things about my husband's addiction.

I also keep having panic attacks. Like with chest pains and breathing difficulty. [Betrayal trauma is real!]

Sometimes I don't know if I can go on. But I do (and I realize that I have literally been carried by God for more days than I can count. He has certainly not left me alone).


I took some time tonight to list in my journal questions that haunt my mind:

Do I believe in love?
What is love?
Is love even attainable?
Will I be able to trust Ben again?
Is my marriage capable of being saved?
Will we ever have what I thought we had, or will we ever have something even close to that, or even better?
Can we make it joyfully?
Will I love him?
Will I desire him--and receive a good version of him in return?

As I pondered these questions, all I could think of was, "All can be made right through the Atonement." There is hope. If there was no hope, there would be no Atonement. I know Christ performed the Atonement. Therefore, I have hope.

Just because I have hope doesn't mean I'm not broken right now.

I am broken.

But I can be made whole.
So can Ben.


ps, I have a recent obsession with Christina Perri. I've always liked her, but her recent songs just speak to me so much right now.

So, in case you're interested:

"I've had enough. I'm standing up. I need, I need a change...I'm setting fire to the life that I know. We start a fire everywhere that we go. We starting fires, we starting fires, till our lives are burning gold."

The next video resonates with me because it's kind of desperate. And I feel like I can relate to the pain and desire to just want to love. 

This one is dedicated to the lonely ache that takes the place where love and trust was:

I could list way more. But maybe I'll save them for my next post. Ha.

Constancy and Hope

Credit

The strength in my relationship with God is growing.

When we are faced with tough trials, we are given two choices: we can draw closer to God, or we can decide He doesn't exist or doesn't care, thus creating distance between ourselves and God. We may even experience a combination of those two choices. There are many reasons we might withdraw from God (and many reasons I have withdrawn from God on occasion), but the joys of coming closer to Him are tremendous.

I remember a time when anger was a constant in my body. I was angry with God for encouraging me to marry Ben. I was angry that Ben had betrayed me on so many levels. I was angry that I couldn't see the future and know what would happen. I was angry that I felt so lost and alone. I was angry that I was living this reality. Because this anger was in constant existence in my body, I started having panic attacks and losing the ability to cope with anything, really. I also stopped reading my scriptures and saying heartfelt prayers for a time.

I couldn't tell you how long that phase lasted. I just remember it being there, and it was a growing experience for me. When I look back and think of where I was versus where I am now, there is such a shift. Yes, I still have panic attacks, and I'm not that great at dealing with stress and change. Yes, I feel angry, lost, alone, and confused sometimes. And yes, I have the worst depression I've ever experienced. BUT, I see God every day. Despite all the negatives in my life, God is now my constant, and I find more joy and peace than I ever have before.

Without a doubt, I know God lives. I don't know how He works, and I don't understand everything (or anything, really), but I know He is there. As I study scripture and gain a strength in my understanding and security of my relationship with Him through prayer, it is becoming easier to recognize that He is there, and He always has been (even when I withdrew). When bad things happen, I no longer question the plan (well, okay, I question the plan. But I no longer try to change the plan or think God isn't mindful of me just because things aren't going according to my plan). Rather than questioning His plan, I am trying to embrace it. I am really trying to turn my will over to Him and let things happen as they should.

I'm finding that God knows best. He's always known best. Occasionally He gives us little glimpses into eternity so we can see that His plan is working. On those occasions in my life, I see and feel that things shouldn't be happening any other way, and I see how beautiful His plan really is.

I know that no matter what, God is with me.

I know that salvation is free.

I know that it is His grace that enables me and gives me strength.

I know that the mercy and love of Jesus Christ are what is healing me. I know I could do nothing without Him.

I know that this same grace and mercy allows my husband to repent and me to forgive him.

I know that I will be raised up in immortality if I keep true to God: if I emulate Him, seek His will, and live with charity in my heart.

I have so much hope. I know that divorce is an option now, but I have hope in my marriage. I really do. Because I have hope in the power of repentance and forgiveness through the Atonement, I have hope in my marriage. But even if my marriage doesn't work out, I have hope in the power of healing from this trauma through the Atonement. I have a general hope for my own personal peace and happiness in the future. I have hope that I will enter God's presence again, and for that moment, I jump for joy.