Crash and burn

Life has been very busy lately. On Thursday, I crashed and burned. After processing through my grief, guilt, and shame, I came to a place of peace and acceptance of what had happened. And then I committed to making sure I get time every day to just be me. I've spent so much time caring about everyone else around me (baby and husband with injured back are the main ones) that I haven't taken the time to take care of myself. I've been numbing through facebook, which has really only led me to feel more guilt and shame than I need because it's a poor attempt to do something for myself that is not actually meaningful most of the time. 

Sometimes I just really hate being an adult because I have to be responsible. Blech. But at the same time, I love my responsibilities, namely my family. I love my son and spending time with him. So, I'm taking the time to make sure I'm doing what needs to be done while balancing me-time. I just have to make sure that the time I spend on myself is meaningful, not numbing. Numbing always leads me to want more and feel guilt for not doing what I *should* do for myself. 

The most important thing is that I take care of myself so I don't crash and burn like I did on Thursday. 

I haven't forgiven him

I've been thinking a lot.
I don't even know if my words can adequately describe what has been on my mind and heart. It's been two months since I last wrote here, and, well, that's a lot of thoughts.

I'll try to stick to what prompted me to come to my computer and write, and we will see where it goes from there.

We have been married for almost five and a half years. I've known about the addiction for almost five. It's been a long road, and anticipate a much longer road ahead. Because I don't anticipate divorce (although I do keep it in the back burner for protection).

For much of our marriage, I've tried to be Christlike. In how I've treated Ben, in how I've treated others, in how I've sought revelation. I've tried to forgive. I've tried to be merciful and loving. And yet, sometimes I still feel this gaping hole in my soul. And that is what I have been thinking about.

I haven't forgiven him. I think I did at one point. I forgave and tried to move on. I try to live in the present and seek guidance from the Lord with each situation. But as more came out in our marriage, it became harder to forgive.

I hoped when our son was born that it could be a fresh start for our family. In some ways, it has been. The past year has been beautiful and amazing. But it's also been heartbreaking and hard. I definitely wouldn't change a thing (well, except the addiction. that can go away)--meaning I don't wish I was divorced or something because I love my little family.

But two years ago, this month, Ben confessed some things to me. Things that he thought would be deal breakers. Things he thought would finally break me and make me file for divorce. He did it because he was coming clean and trying to enter real recovery for the first time ever. I admire him for that, and I am so grateful he started that journey. Things have been up and down over the past two years. He started doing really well then things spiraled down again. It's just tough to keep chugging along sometimes.

And my point of all of this is that I recently realized I haven't forgiven him. I keep thinking maybe I have, but I haven't. And I don't know how. Which is extremely discouraging because I know that our relationship can't be healed or whole, and I can't be whole, until I forgive him. I'm not trying to rush that (okay, maybe a little because it's starting to stress me out). I don't know how to forgive, and I feel like it's taking so much effort and energy.

I want to continue on with our life. I want to trust and forgive him. I want to have more kids, and I want our lives to become this magical place where I can look back and say, "The road was rough, but we made it." I think we are on that road, and maybe we will get to that place one day. But dangit, I'm tired of being patient on the journey. I just want to get there already.

I don't really know what's in store. But I'm trying really hard to work on me and take things one day at a time. I'm trying to seek God's will and have hope and faith in His plan for me. He can see all, and I can only see right now.

I wish there was a recipe for forgiveness. But, alas, there is not. I think I'm holding on to it because somewhere in my brain I think forgiveness is synonymous with trust. I know it's not, but there must be part of me that thinks that because I think I'm unable to forgive as I'm using it as some kind of protection. I'm trying to learn how to let that go so I can move on and be made whole.

Surrender

Last weekend, I had the blessed opportunity to attend the Togetherness Project! I love this organization so much. Much of my healing has been through classes I've attended and people I've met. I will be forever grateful to the people who put this together and sacrifice so much of their time and energy to help strengthen those of us suffering from the effects of sex addiction.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about one of the classes I attended. Rhyll Croshaw spoke about living recovery one day at a time.

I've been in a kind of pit where I have been so focused on my baby and my family and not spending enough time on ME. I've been working on that and trying to find balance, but it's hard. My needs change on a daily basis depending on different triggers and trauma or whether or not I feel like I can even handle thinking about having this addiction as part of my life (and besides, I have a baby now, so I really can't spend so much time focusing on me. That makes the balancing act more tricky.). Most of the time, my recovery work simply looks like self-care. But if I'm only doing self-care, that leaves out a lot of other things that are necessary for my recovery.

It's like I'm only going halfway to recovery because I know I need some aspect of recovery, but I don't want to think about it. I've let recovery books, programs, blogs, and support groups fall to the wayside because I just don't want to think about it. Not to mention I might be spending way too much time and energy focusing on healing my relationship with Ben. I'm the kind of person that likes to do things myself so I can make sure they are done right. I'm afraid (from fear but also from experience) that if I leave our relationship recovery too much up to Ben, nothing will happen or things will be made worse. So even though I try to be hands off about his recovery and letting things heal as they heal, I really do try to take matters into my own hands way too often. It's exhausting. Because when things don't work as I think they should, I get put in another place of trauma or just feel disappointed or angry or upset.

I have not done a good job at surrendering this to God. Like, at all. I try. I give but take back. I can't commit to fully just letting Him handle it because I'm not really a fan of His timeline.

So during Rhyll's class (which I didn't initially want to go to anyway because I thought, "I don't need this, I know all about recovery and taking it one day at a time... haha), she said something that struck me, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. She said something like, "I had to turn to God and say 'Take him. I can't do this anymore.'" She had done everything she felt like she could to help their marriage and family, and she realized she just couldn't do it. She had to focus on herself, and let herself heal. She had to stop taking so much of the weight of their marriage and his addiction and let God handle that part.

I feel like that was the piece I have been missing! I did this life coaching program with Jacy which was incredible and eye-opening and life changing (and if you can afford to do it, do it! Do it do it do it! Because, like I said, LIFE CHANGING, powerful stuff). I learned so much incredible stuff about taking charge of my life and seeing what I can do for me. But I applied it all to my relationship with Ben, and while that is good and all (because there is much in my relationship with him that I DO need to work on because I am kind of mean and blame everything on him all the time because "he is an addict and has ruined my life"...), I still can't do everything on my own. I'm trying to micromanage too much instead of letting things happen on God's timeline. I'm trying to rush my healing, his healing, and our marriage's healing because I want our family to be "perfect", and I want to start thinking about and planning for more kids. I keep going in circles with myself between accepting my life as it is and hating everything and yearning for what I imagined my life to be at this point.

So, while I'm focusing on my self-care and balancing act, I am also working on surrender. I don't really know how to surrender all of this to God, but I am going to figure it out. In the mean time, I am trying to let go of fretting over his recovery so I can focus on my recovery. I am working a program, I'm reading Rhyll's book, I'm doing self-care, and maybe one of these days I will make it to a group meeting so I can have some in-person support.

I reviewed my safety plan and boundaries again, adding some things that needed to be added. And I am going to work on keeping myself safe. Sometimes I just don't. I don't know why, I just don't stick to my boundaries very well. Probably because I'm afraid of change and push-back from Ben. But I know to keep our home a safe place to keep myself on track with my recovery and healing, I need to stick to my boundaries.

So. Deep breaths. Here I go, jumping back into my recovery.

Half-in/Half-out

I started writing a blog post, a letter to my husband, but then it got way too personal for here. Apparently I do have boundaries about what I share on here. [haha]

Part of my heartache is that while there is so much negative, there is also so much positive. My husband is a good person. And he would be even better without the addiction. I can see so much potential, and it just hurts that I saw his potential and knew all the good when we got married but have been hit with so much bad since. I hate the feelings I have towards him and feeling like I'm in limbo, wishing I loved him like I used to or think I should.

We are preparing to move to Utah. This has the potential to make or break our family. I am excited for all the good that can happen. But I'm also nervous for the bad that could happen. I'm hoping for the good. But I guess it just doesn't help that he isn't living in solid recovery and while he wishes he had the motivation to do so, he doesn't. So that isn't very hopeful right now.

There is good in our relationship. And that is what keeps me here. But romantically and emotionally, he isn't all the way here. He is too distracted by too many things.

Today while I was praying, I felt this strong urge to figure out how to live without him. I don't mean divorce [but maybe one day... ugh] but just emotionally live my life without him. I'm afraid to, though. I'm afraid if I do that, if he ever comes around and does get into real recovery, maybe I will be too used to doing things solo that I won't be ready or willing to let him back in.

I have one foot here ready to go and willing to work on things and love him with all my might. But I have one foot out the door wondering when it's time to split. Being half-in/half-out isn't a good way to live.

The Green Chair

I went to counseling on Monday. When I went in and he asked me what is new or what do we need to talk about, I said, "I honestly don't know. I think I've been feeling pretty good lately. So I just don't know."

But of course, there was stuff under the surface that he helped me find.

We are organizing our apartment and getting rid of things to make room for the baby. Last weekend, we got rid of a chair. It's just a chair, so every time I cried at the thought of getting rid of it, I shamed myself. It's just a chair. Ben didn't verbally shame me for being so upset, but I felt that he thought I was being ridiculous as well (maybe it was in my head, or maybe he let off little cues. I don't even know).

We kind of got in a fight last Friday night. I don't remember how it started (apparently I've blocked it out) other than just an emotional topic I brought up after dinner, which turned into me not being able to talk because I couldn't figure out what I was even trying to say. He fell asleep while I was not talking. I told him I wanted him to stay awake, to which his response was, "Well if you're not talking, then I'm going to fall asleep." That turned into overwhelming feelings of abandonment and after a huge escalation of things and him going into a selfish addict-mode (yes, he will own that), I ended up sobbing in the living room--hurt, upset, and shaming myself for having feelings--on our chair that was to be given away the following day.

As I laid on the chair and thought about giving it up, I cried even harder.

So, rather than focusing on all the crazy I felt I was experiencing with the escalation of my emotions and our fight, I asked myself Why are you so upset about getting rid of this chair? We have only had it for a year. We got it for free. Why are you so upset?

I realized I was struggling with getting rid of it because this chair was my safe space. 

For the past year, things have been really hard. When we moved into the house where we received this chair, I experienced a lot of depressing emotions (that was Oct. 2013) for various reasons. Then, just after Christmas last year, I decided I was done with our marriage as it was and that things needed to change. Talk of separation happened. Then Ben got his new job in Texas, and we ended up being forced to separate because of that. Eventually, I moved to Texas, and things have been up and down here too.

There has been lots of emotion and pain involved in the last year (and of course beauty, but that's not the point of this post).

Through everything, the chair has been my safe space. I've cried countless times in this chair. I've curled up in blankets (a comfort object) and tuned out the world. I've had many self-examinations in this chair. It's also been a good cuddle chair and has symbolism for the good things that have happened in the past year as well.

It's not just a chair. 

As I talked about this with my counselor (we actually started with the fight and then he zeroed in on the chair issue), he asked me what getting rid of my safe place means to me.

I thought for a while and responded with, "Maybe I'm afraid I don't have a safe space anymore."

Well, that turned into my issues with feeling safe. It's true, I'm still having safety issues. I'm still dealing with a lot of icky trauma. I try to pretend I'm not, or maybe I am just trying too hard to rush the healing process because I so desperately want to be okay. I want to feel okay. I want the addiction gone. I want the things I've been dreaming of since I married him.

But through our discussion, I realized I'm doing a lot to contribute to my home not being safe.

Why, you ask?

Because lately I've been trying to control the addiction.

It's so subtle, that I convince myself I'm not controlling the addiction. But I am. It's through things like pressuring myself to have the house clean, dinner made, dishes done, laundry done, etc. by the time Ben gets home from work. I convince myself that it's because that's just how we have divided the labor right now. He works a lot between his writing jobs and his full-time job. He doesn't have time for that kind of stuff. He is so stressed out. He has no time for himself. Whereas there is me who is expecting a baby and has way more time to do the house stuff because I'm not working outside the home. So I get the house stuff as my job, while he gets the bringing in the money as his job.

But secretly, I pressure myself to get all those things done because I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't. Ben will help me. It will stress him out. He will feel overwhelmed and will turn to the things that release his tension. He won't have time to use the good coping skills he is trying to develop because he will be using his time and energy to do his own jobs and then help me do the stuff around the house, which I should be perfectly capable of doing myself, right? Even though I do plenty of other things during the day that take time away from the household chores.

So I pressure myself into doing it all. I try to control what is going on with him by taking on x amount of responsibility myself.

I feel like I'm capable of forgiving Ben for everything that has happened. Often, I think I've already forgiven him. But one thing I absolutely cannot forget is the pain of something he has told me. There have been times when he has been so deep in his addiction that he has thought about taking his life. He has also thought about leaving me.

I don't know if I'll ever forget that, and it haunts me. I get afraid that if I don't live up to certain expectations, he will decide he is done. If he is too stressed with the fact that I can't physically do all the house stuff on my own, or the stress that will come with the baby, or the stress of his job, or the stress of me and dealing with my emotions, maybe he will just leave. Maybe I'm crazy and will push him away.

Preventing that from happening is another aspect of why I have been taking so much on myself.

Now the trick is finding balance. I can identify ways I have been controlling the addiction. I have to let go of that control. Much of it is based on fear. I have to let go of those fears and turn my life over to God. I have to trust in Him with whatever happens.

Obviously, I can't just drop the house stuff to prove I'm not trying to control the addiction. We are a team, and I want to keep doing my share in our relationship. What I need to stop doing is stressing about letting him help me. Some days I can totally get things done. Other days I can't. Some days I need help. And I deserve a husband who is capable of helping me. I can let him help.

As I talked with my counselor, we identified some core beliefs I have. Then we countered them with the truth, things I deserve.

Finding myself is crucial to my healing. I can't let the "things I need to do" around the house take that away from me. I need to spend time on me. I need to spend time doing things I enjoy, or re-discovering things I enjoy (because lately I've been realizing it's hard for me to enjoy anything). I need to spend time reaching out in service to others. I need to spend time developing relationships with people in my life. I need to spend time developing love and other Christlike attributes. I need to discover who I am and what I am capable of as a daughter of God. I need to develop my talents. And pretty soon, I will have a baby in my home. I want to be the best mother I can be.

Those things are important to me.

I will find the balance. I will be more self-aware. I will recognize when I am doing things because I'm trying to control the addiction or prevent certain outcomes.

I will not pressure myself into healing.

I will accept who I am.

I will seek peace through Christ every day.

I cannot control the addiction. I did not cause it. I cannot cure it.

The Bullets Won't Stop!

I've thought of writing this post all day. And every time, I just can't click the button to write a new post. Part of me is avoiding feeling what I'm about to feel as I write about this. But I'll feel it whether I write it or not, so here goes. It's also just really vulnerable and raw. So I hope for validation and love.

Yesterday was horrible. I survived, though, so I felt like a rock-star. Minus the crying. Crying always makes me feel a little less than rock-star status, hence the reminder that crying doesn't make me weak. 

Because we moved and I'm pregnant, I decided to substitute teach this year rather than get a full-time teaching job. Subbing yesterday proved to be very challenging and was the base of my horribly hard day. After I finished the school day, I was grateful to go home, and I looked forward to the evening with Ben. I was counting on him to be a strength and comfort to me as I unleashed some of the trauma I experienced yesterday at school. And he was. Until he confessed some things.

Fast forward through the hours of tears shed last night to the point where I was actually able to process my feelings and get to the root of why this relapse impacted me so much worse than any have since April. 

I'm raw from telling my story at Camp Scabs. I've recently revisited all the pain I have suffered our entire marriage. That pain has come from acts of infidelity, countless lies, and a breakdown of trust and love. And now I'm feeling all that pain again. I'm sitting in it. Because I've been let down in a major way that has let the trauma rush back in. Everything has come cycling back, and I can't get it to leave.

I've been feeling so much joy from the past six months. I've felt hope. I've seen his potential as a husband and father. I've seen our potential as a family. 

We "started over" back in April. I allowed the past to be put behind us. I chose to let our relationship continue to develop rather than shutting it down. I chose to open my heart back up to trust and love. I gave him everything and am now carrying a baby with Ben's blood running through him. 

I trusted Ben to work as hard as he could to find recovery. I trusted him with my heart and my child. I took a huge leap of faith, and I feel like I have been shot in the heart again. And again and again and AGAIN. The bullets won't stop coming. And they are getting closer and closer together. I'm afraid I might actually die. [Okay, not literally. But I'm certainly breaking.]

For a while, the relapses were growing farther apart. It's not ideal, but it gave me hope that real changes were happening. But the relapses are now growing closer together, and I can see that real changes are not happening. Or at least, they aren't happening as fast and as well as I thought they were.

Sometimes I can handle this well because I remind myself that it's an addiction and he needs help. And that the addiction won't just go away overnight. And that it's not about me, and it's not about infidelity. It's about addiction.

But when it comes to sex-addiction, you can't leave the infidelity out of it. It's an integral part of this addiction, and addiction plus infidelity SUCK SO BAD.

Porn doesn't just happen. And masturbation doesn't just happen. Little things trickle in and build up. Lust happens. I know it's not really about me, and I don't ever doubt Ben's love for me. But all the fantasies and lusting while watching porn is certainly infidelity. 

And even if you're not sold on the idea that porn is infidelity, porn certainly leads there. With addiction, one level is never enough. It will grow worse and worse until there are physical acts of infidelity. [also, I'm really bad about minimizing because so many people in "the world" think porn is not a big deal. the struggle to validate myself is real. that is why this paragraph even exists. shut up, stupid brain.]

Most of my current trauma level stems from fear. He has said things to me in the past that make me afraid for our future. The fact that porn is creeping in more and more with less time in between each viewing worries me. I'm afraid he will give up and leave. I'm afraid he will become so hopeless that he is suicidal. I'm afraid it will grow from fantasy and brain work to physical affairs. 

I'm afraid for our future family. I've seen families ripped apart by the effects of porn. THAT'S NOT IN MY PLAN! But I'm afraid it could arrive there by his choices. 

I honestly feel a little ridiculous because I'm sitting here thinking of all the worst-case scenarios when the fact is, I still see hope. But I've had hope for so long... And fear feels natural. 

The thing is, I still have hope. I still love him. I still see his potential as the father and husband he should be. And I am truly, deeply grateful for the healing that has taken place this summer because earlier this year I was almost ready to give up. Had we not experienced what we have, I would be ready to give up again. But I'm not. Because I love him, DANGIT! And I still have hope. And lots of swear words are running through my head right now. 

It's not fair. It's just not fair. I can do everything "right" and still end up in a crap-hole because of someone else's agency. 

But I do know this: I am not alone. I've been in so much pain the past 24 hours, but I've never felt alone. I've felt God circling me with His love, and He keeps showing me hope. So I guess I'm grateful for that. 

My husband is an addict. Who can I talk to?

"This is your husband's thing. You telling anyone else is betrayal to him." 

I've heard that too many times to count. It's stuck in my head and caused me much grief over the years.

We know betrayal, right? And we certainly don't want to become the betrayer. Maybe that's why this "myth" is so hard to deal with. We don't want to feel like we have betrayed our spouse. Plus, we are women. We are good at sucking it up and suffering silently (or at least I am) to not "put out" the other person.

But here's the deal. Ready?

This isn't just about your husband. This is about you now too. Not in the sense that this is your fault, but that it's happening to you. By marrying (or dating) you, the addict has chosen to give up some of his rights of ownership to this story. You now own this story in the way that it is happening to you. Because it is happening to you. You have been betrayed on a deep, intimate level. The feelings and trauma you are experiencing/have experienced as a result of his actions are normal and need to be addressed and properly dealt with.

Some people will say the only people that need to know about this are your bishop, therapist (if you choose to have a therapist or counselor), and God. While that may work for some people, limiting yourself to ONLY THOSE PEOPLE could have negative consequences for you.

We need people. Sometimes the bishop, therapist, and God is enough people. If it is, awesome. If it's not, there is no need for guilt or shame in confiding elsewhere. That's not to say you need to tell everyone, but you can prayerfully find safe people to confide in. Regardless, you need to do what you feel is best for YOU.

When I realized that, the whole game changed for me. Having people--friends--to talk to was life-changing. It started out with friends I made in my support groups and slowly extended to a few close friends, my Relief Society president, my family, his family, my visiting teachers, and then whoever I felt inspired to confide in. And then all of "the world" (with him, as you know).

My way isn't the way. It was the way for me. Everyone's way is different. Do what you feel is best for you. If that means confiding in no one outside of your bishop, therapist, and God, sweet deal (although, in my honest, biased opinion, I think everyone could use a close friend knowing--even if it's someone who becomes a close friend through blogs you read or support groups you attend). If it means confiding in a few people, do that. If you feel like you have to tell everyone (I do know a few people who told EVERYONE as soon as they found out, which had some negative repercussions for them, but also many positive things to have it all out in the open) do that! It's up to you. This is now your story. It's a different perspective from the addict's, but it's happening to you, and you have a right to your healing how you see fit.

The addict might think you are being mean or insensitive to tell people. That's because the addict is experiencing major shame, and it's hard and scary to have this out in the open. It is probably good to have his input and know where he stands on you talking to people about it. But if he is completely against it, that doesn't mean listen to him and suffer silently. His brain is broken; therefore, in my honest and biased opinion, he really doesn't have the capacity to make those kinds of decisions for you. If you can reach some kind of compromise or get on the same page as each other, it will ease some tension. But if not, prayerfully decide what needs to be done for your healing and press forward with that.

This isn't being un-Christlike. In fact, you can address this part of your healing in a very Christlike manner. Christ threw out the money-changers in the temple. You can throw out the money-changers in your marriage. The bottom line is you need to do what is best for your healing. If you don't, you may grow to harbor even more resentment than already exists as a natural result of his addiction.

Maybe he will harbor resentment against you for talking to people. If he does, that is not your problem. His actions are completely out of your control. Always. If he can't support your recovery and healing in this way, then he is probably still needing more recovery himself. That is okay. Take steps forward for your healing and recovery, set boundaries, and follow through with the boundaries. He will either get into recovery or not, but you waiting around, hoping for him to enter recovery (and who knows when that will happen?) might end up causing you more emotional harm than good.

If you feel you need to talk to people, talk to people. Do it. For you.

Hello World

I have something to tell you. Some of you know this, but many of you don't. I'm going to say something that might shock you and will very likely cause some discomfort. I'm not one to beat around the bush. I've learned from experience that I prefer straightforward honesty. So, that being said, I'd encourage you to read this through rather than just shut down because of the discomfort you will feel in about two seconds.

Ready?

I'm married to a sex-addict.

I know, right? Ben? Yeah right. Haha, me too. I almost couldn't believe it when he told me three years ago.

Yeah.

I'm not going to go into the details of our story. You can find that by reading my blog, if you so choose. I want to focus on WHY I'm telling you this. Because that is the important thing.

I know it may be shocking that I'm announcing this to "the world." Have faith in me that I've put a lot of thought and prayer into this decision.

I do also ask that you be respectful of the fact that I just invited you into my space, a space where only select individuals have been invited before. This is my place of healing. Most of the people who have been reading my blog previous to this moment are addicts or spouses of addicts. If you do choose to go read my story or previous blog posts, keep in mind that I'm on a journey of healing. There are ups and downs. Feel free to leave comments or ask me questions, but know I reserve the right to delete any comment I feel is inappropriate or discourteous of me and my journey.

Here we go.

*******************************************

Pornography in Society

Back when I thought Ben was perfect, I never would have suspected this. And I never would have understood or knew how to handle it if one of my friends came to me and said, "Hey, my husband is addicted to looking at porn and masturbation," or any of the other things I've heard my friends say about their sex-addict husbands (affairs, strip clubs, brothels, etc.). My eyes have been opened up to what is going on in the world in a major way since sex-addiction became a part of my life.

Let's talk about statistics. Here is a good resource. Here is another resource.

• At the time I am writing this post, porn has been searched over 867 million times since the beginning of 2014. (I started writing this last Thursday. That number has now become over 891 million as of Monday.)
• On mobile devices, one in five searches are for pornography.
• One quarter of smartphone users admit to having porn on their phone.
• 51% of pastors say pornography is a temptation.
• 50% of Christian men, and 20% of Christian women admit to being addicted to pornography.
• 51% of boys and 32% of girls view porn before age 12.

Do those statistics make you squirm a bit?

Pornography is plaguing society.

People don't want to talk about it. Pornography is gross. People who look at porn are gross. Well, guess what? If statistics are accurate, if your husband isn't addicted to porn, then your best friend's husband is (statistically speaking. I'm definitely not accusing anyone here--just making a point). Yeah. Is your husband gross? Is your best friend's husband gross? Is my husband gross?

The answer to those questions could be maybe, or even yes. But my point is, just because someone is addicted to pornography doesn't mean they should automatically be shunned. Nor does it mean the spouse is a fool for staying and should be shunned. It means this is big.

Sex-Addicts and Their Spouses Need Help

Sex-addicts need help. Some of them don't consider it an addiction--just a problem they are handling on their own. Some are in denial that it's even a problem. But research shows that pornography isn't just harmful because of Christian or moral values. Pornography is harmful for many reasons. For more info, click here.

Spouses of sex-addicts need help. We experience what is called Betrayal Trauma, which has symptoms similar to or the same as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. This trauma is real. And it doesn't go away quickly.

Help is hard to find for the spouses. It is, however, becoming easier to find than it was a few years ago--thanks to people who are speaking up and taking action. Click here and here for a couple lists of resources. 

Unfortunately, much of society doesn't like to talk about things that are uncomfortable. I've been told by multiple people that this is something we just don't talk about. And, sure, not everyone needs to announce this on their Facebook feed or to the whole "world." Here is why I am:

I want you to know about this part of my life because I lived in silence for so long.

Silence is a Killer

Addiction thrives in silence and secrecy. I'm learning that depression does too. I have to be fake around so many people because talking about my depression is uncomfortable (Maybe for me, maybe for them. Either way, being vulnerable is scary. People can react and have reacted in so many different ways). People don't know what to say. That's okay. I don't know what to say to myself half the time either. What's not okay is the fact that I, we--the other beautiful women I know who are in this situation as well--are told not to talk about it.

We are told not to talk about it by many people:

• Our addict husbands, who are embarrassed, full of shame, and pretending to be perfect to everyone around them.
• Church leaders, parents, and friends.
• Sometimes counselors.
• Ourselves--through negative self-talk.

We need to talk about it. And we need empathy and love.

Guess what? You probably know someone dealing with this (other than us). You just don't know they are dealing with it.

Guess what else? Everyone you know has a story. Whether it's this kind of story or not doesn't matter. We all have stories. We all suffer pain in some kind of way, but we don't talk about it because we live in a society that stifles vulnerability.

We need vulnerability. We need realness. We need compassion.

When that lady at the grocery store doesn't seem to be handling her two-year old very well, don't judge her. Show compassion. Maybe her husband just confessed his most recent relapse and she can barely even breathe.

If your friend stops shaving her legs. Or showering. Or she wears the same outfit every day for days on end. Show some compassion. Her mind might be reeling because her husband just disclosed something awful.

If you notice your friend feeding her kids cereal and ice cream for dinner on a regular basis. Her husband might be a sex-addict.

If your friend is wearing shoes that don't match. Or two bras. Or no bra. Her husband might be a sex-addict.

If your friend's house in a state of constant disarray. Or her kids put themselves to bed often. Or her kids eat crackers for dinner often. And she can't remember the last time the kids bathed. Her husband might be a sex-addict.

If your friend is starting to seclude herself from social activities and stops answering her phone or receiving house-calls. Her husband might be a sex-addict.

If your friend's kids miss way too much school. Or if they watch way too many movies during the day. Her husband might be a sex-addict.

Now, granted, none of those things mean that person is married to a sex-addict. Remember, I said might. But they could certainly be a red flag for some kind of life crisis. Each of those things have happened to me or someone I know who is married to a sex-addict. We, the wives of sex-addicts, know crisis. We know survival. We eat, breathe, sleep survival. Each item on the list above is a sign of survival-mode. We all need compassion to get through survival mode.

When I was stuck in my silence, I felt dead. Then, I found ways to reach out. Slowly, over the past three years, I have found more support. That support has come because I was brave enough to be vulnerable with people. That courage has helped both me and Ben progress in our healing. It has also allowed us to be a support to other people.

Ending the Silence

And now I want to say to you: If you or your spouse struggles with sex-addiction (masturbation/pornography/other sexual behaviors), you can get help. And you don't have to be alone. There is a tremendous community of support just waiting for you. There are hundreds of people to love and help take care of you. There are tons of resources that can help you. Books, counselors, therapy programs (even free ones), 12-step groups, websites with oodles of information. You don't have to be alone and shrouded in darkness anymore!

No one can overcome this on their own. We need each other.

If you need to find support, feel free to contact me. I have people. My people have people. We will take care of you.

Whoever you are, you are loved. You are loved by God. You are loved by me. You are loved by my friends and support people.

Maybe you've been going through hell. Me too. Hang in there. We want to help you.

Even if you think this does not apply to you, please share this post. You have no idea who might be struggling with this.

Ben and I are going to start talking about this more openly. Like I said, silence is a killer. We both need to be able to talk about it. There is a twofold goal with this. One is to find those in need of help and give them a place to go and reach out. Three years ago, had we had all the resources we have now, we would probably be in a much different place (though I wouldn't trade this journey/healing/learning process for anything). The other is to help ourselves so we can continue on our journey to healing. It's not over for us. Our recovery and healing will be a life-long journey. We are just opening up now so we can serve and heal more fully. Because this is an issue that needs to be talked about in society. Ideally, everyone should feel safe enough to open up.

And last, whatever your story is, I want to share this with you:

"Owning our story and loving ourselves through the process is the bravest thing we will ever do."

"Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness."

 --Brené Brown.


Thanks for reading. You're welcome to continue following My Walk.

There is an End

This week has been so different from anything I've experienced in a long time.

It's weird to think that I no longer live in Arkansas. I miss my friends and family.
It's also weird to think I'm back in Texas, very close to where I grew up, but things are so different than they used to be. I'm different than I used to be.

It's weird that I'm not working. I've actually been shaming myself in that area. I won't go into detail, but I've made myself feel very guilty and shamed for not working. I feel like I'm wasting my life away. I'm not. But seriously. So I'm working on that.

It's weird that I have all this time to focus on me. It's really good for me. I've had time to think and feel. I've actually had to face my emotions and my life as it is, something that I haven't actually done because I was busy with taking classes, then I was busy with student-teaching, then I was busy with moving to Arkansas, and then I was super busy as a first year teacher. Not that I haven't ever dealt with my life before, but I haven't made dealing and healing my number one priority until now. And it feels weird.

I've faced a lot of tough emotional battles this week. I'm still struggling in a lot of ways, and I'm also realizing I'm not as secure with myself as I pretend to be. I even admitted to a friend (something I don't think I've ever admitted out loud--not even to Ben) that I was riding the line with an eating disorder a few years ago right after my car accident, through the time that I learned of Ben's addiction. I never let it get too far, but lots of people noticed that I was way too skinny and not eating enough. I have disordered eating tendencies, and I've worked really hard to handle it in healthy ways.

I'm realizing I have issues and insecurities that run deep. I've warded them off and pretended they don't exist for so long, that it's really good (but really hard) for me to finally feel everything and sort through the muck so I can learn to feel whole. Feeling whole is hard. I'm wading through so much just as the wife of a sex-addict. But then I think about insecurities and fears I've had since my teen years, and that gives me even more to work on and feel depressed about.

But I'm on a quest for wholeness. I want to feel beautiful and secure as a daughter of God. I want to find joy in my life and especially in my marriage. I want my soul to be filled with love, light, and energy. So I'm wading through this mess that is my life so I can find that, so my soul can be complete. And that's why I'm not working right now. I'm allowing myself time to feel. I'm allowing myself time to heal. I have plans and ideas of what I can do to be made whole, and I'm doing this prayerfully. I'm seeking out God's direction, and He is guiding me on my search for wholeness. I'm finding my shame and dealing with it. I'm learning and growing (okay, right now I'm mostly eating and sleeping, slowly gaining motivation to face life. But baby steps, right?). I'm facing things, though, and that is my first step.

Everything feels harder because of the state of my marriage and the addiction. Sometimes it's hard to have faith, and I'll admit, I've wondered what it would be like to just live without all of this. I've wondered if turning on God in anger would make me feel better (I know it won't. No worries there.).

Today, as I studied my scriptures, I read the first chapter of King Benjamin's speech (Mosiah 2). The very last verse reads:

"...if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness."

This verse really hit me today because of the worries and fears I've been having. I've been wading through some serious trauma, and having faith and hope is just so hard sometimes.

Sometimes in life it's hard to see the end. We are going through it hard and fast now, and there seems to be no end in sight. Today, I was given the grace of seeing the end. The end is living with God in a state of NEVER. ENDING. HAPPINESS. Isn't that what I want? Isn't that what we all want? To just be happy forever?

Sometimes life hurts. Sometimes it's full of pain and heartache, and we feel like we can't go on. Sometimes we can't see the end, and we wonder what all of this is for.

There is an end. The end is happiness with God. But that's if we are faithful.

I can hold on a little bit longer. I can exercise faith. I can. I know I can. And knowing if I do it this way, that I will end up with NEVER-ENDING HAPPINESS brings me so much hope and peace.

We can do it. Just hold on a little bit longer.

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.

Gathering Your Bearings After D-Day

Three years ago this month was my first d-day. Happy death day, everyone...Just kidding (did you laugh? I laughed just writing it). I believe d-day gives the power for a re-birth. It's not the end. It's the beginning.

Whether d-day to you stands for "discovery day" or "disclosure day", the effect is about the same on any spouse in this situation:

You are devastated.
You feel broken.

You feel used and violated.

You feel like your life has been a lie.
Part of you has died.

You are lost in despair and hopelessness.

You are angry--so, so angry. And sad.

You are disgusted--both with yourself and your spouse.

You feel lost.

You feel alone.

You are confused.

You feel worthless.

You feel abused.

You feel empty, desolate, and bleak.
You fall into a state of shock.
You are traumatized--the post-traumatic-stress-disorder kind of traumatized.
Your life has been cut-off--murdered to a certain degree.
You are in a state of chaos--flailing, drowning.
You cry. A lot. Maybe you add in some throwing and breaking things. And possibly punching, kicking, and screaming.
Your trust has been shattered. And when trust goes...well, it seems that everything else goes along with it.

To sum it up, it is HELL. Discovering your spouse is a sex-addict is hell. It's the darkest that hell has to offer. Facing the consequences of that fact day after day is hell. Fighting the battle against Satan, even as a team with your spouse, is hell.

When this hell is thrust upon you, there are two directions you could go. You could search for hope and healing, or you could allow the despair to swamp you, lose hope, and fall into a state of depression. I've done both at different times in my recovery and after different d-days. Despair, hopelessness, and depression are not my ideal.

Three years down this road, I've learned a thing or two. There are so many things I wish I could say to my six-month-newly-wed self to ease the burden and the pain. However, when it comes down to it, this has been a beautiful road. I've learned and grown a lot. I can look at myself in the mirror and say, "Wow, that is a strong woman. Look how beautiful you are." and that is a dramatic change from this time three years ago. Three years ago, I was in a state of hell, as listed above. And I didn't know what to do.

So, how do you get your bearings after d-day? How do you get your head to stop spinning? How do you get your feet on the ground?

1) Know that your life isn't over. I know the feeling. It's oh-so-hard to pull out of the despair and think even for a second that everything is not over. It's not. This is the beginning of a new you. You have the power to choose whether or not you heal, and if you choose healing, you will become polished and strong. You will shine with light that you have never felt before, and you can become a beacon of strength and light for others around you.

2) Understand that healing takes time. There is a whole process you have to go through to fully heal. I'm not there yet, but I'm on the road. I no longer feel controlled by my emotions. I am discovering ways to allow my emotions to work their course and then let go of them. It's been three years. I'm on the road to true healing. I'm not there yet, but I'm discovering hope and strength along the way, and I know that in time, I will find true healing.

3) Reach out for help. It's so easy to slip into isolation: from friends, family, and God. I was silent for too long. I didn't tell anyone for over a year because I was convinced by church leaders that it "had to stay in the marriage." That is absolutely not true. Have a support network: you're gonna need it. That's not to say run out and tell the whole world. As you explore this idea, you will be led to a network of "safe people" that you can turn to in times of need. They don't even have to know everything, but at least having someone to go to will be a tremendous help.

 In reaching out for help, finding a counselor will be crucial. I waited too long for that as well, thinking I could manage this by my own methods. Having a professional to confide in, who can give me tactics to manage my stress/anxiety/depression, has been one of the best choices of my recovery.

 Other ways to reach out include joining forums, blogging, connecting with other women (through blogs/forums/12-step groups), and talking to your "safe people."

You are not alone. You may feel so lost and alone, but other women are in the same situation. As you reach out for help, you may find others struggling too. As you engage in forums or blogging, you will find that other women are there too. And you always have God. He is always by your side.

4) Allow yourself to feel. If you "tough it out", you will break sooner or later, and it will likely be worse than just facing it head-on from the get-go. Feeling comes before healing. Allow yourself to mourn. Let the grieving process cycle through you. If you allow yourself to feel the emotions swimming around in you, you will feel validated and be able to move on. If you constantly shove it away, it will add pressure on you internally, and that pressure will eventually explode in the worst way.

5) As you feel, be compassionate and gentle with yourself. Try not to minimize what you are going through. It's hard. And it's okay that it's hard. Being mean to yourself won't help. Practice self-compassion.

Remind yourself that this isn't your fault. One of Satan's greatest tools is to make us believe that we somehow are to blame for this--that we aren't pretty enough, sexy enough, or fulfilling for our husbands. This is not true. When those lies come into your brain, be gentle with yourself and remind yourself of your worth. The addiction doesn't define you. And it is most definitely not your fault.

6) Do research and find resources. Learn about addiction, especially sex-addiction. Understand what is going on with the brain, and realize that your spouse is not addiction. He (or she) may be an addict, but he is also more than the addiction. Finding resources, both for understanding the addiction and to progress your own healing, is so important.

Here is a brief list of online resources: fightthenewdrug.org; rowboatsandmarbles.org; addorecovery.com; togethernessproject.org. There are also great books and CDs out there to help with healing.

7) Set boundaries. Setting boundaries allows you to have the space you need to heal. Boundaries keep you safe from the volatile mess you live with when you are dealing with an addict.

8) Take time for self-care. To put it simply, self-care means doing the things you need to do to promote your overall wellness. Take care of yourself. It's critical that you do so! Don't lose yourself because of the addiction.

Some ideas: painting, exercising, stretching, eating healthy, eating treats, smelling yummy candles, shopping, praying, meditating, taking a hot bath, and listening to healing music.

9) Recognize your divinity. Your worth is not based on your husband. It is not based on your appearance. It is based solely on the fact that you are a child of God. He loves you so much, and He will help carry you through this.

10) Look for God. It's so easy to fall into despair and depression. It's easy to think God has abandoned you and to take your anger out on Him. One thing I've learned is that He is always there. Sometimes I am blind to it, though, because I don't open my eyes. I am so consumed with my grief and depression that I choose not to see Him. When I choose to see Him, I always find the ways He is blessing me, and that helps me feel light and hope.


Throughout my journey as I've fought sex-addiction in my marriage, I've had multiple d-days. Every time is a new learning experience. I don't know that I'd change my experience, as it's brought me to the woman I am now. But if I went back in time to give the "little"-me tips on how to manage and tread through the aftermath of d-day, this list would help pull me through.


Remember, this isn't the end. It's the beginning.

Dear Kilee

Dear Kilee,

You are beautiful. You are wonderful. You are so deeply loved by a Father in Heaven and and elder Brother. Your understanding of their love for you is so much smaller than the actual amount. Know that. Hold that. Be still. Feel their nearness. Let their love fill your heart, and please don't give up.

They see you. They know you. They feel your pain. They want it to end just as much as you do, but this is a result of another person's agency, and it must work its course.

They are supporting you. Look around. See the beauty they have given you. Recognize it for what it's worth. Know you are being carried at this very moment. You are being carried every moment of every day this week. And you will continue to be carried until they know it is safe to let you walk on your own feet again.

Ben has hurt you. He has hurt you for more than three years. As a result, you have not only endured horrific pain, you have learned and grown. You have learned a lot at your young age, and the things you are learning will give you strength and a stronger capacity to love and serve others in the future. You have a divine purpose. Don't forget that.

Ben has crossed a line that has never been crossed before. It's only natural to feel anger. Anger is part of the healing process. Break the anger down. Anger is a mask for other emotions. Don't let those emotions sit and fester as anger. Figure out what is really going on, and allow yourself to feel the true emotions lying beneath. Don't get me wrong, you can be angry. Release your angry energy and tension so it doesn't fester and become something much worse. But deal with the other emotions as well, or they, too, will fester and boil.

Remember the promises God has made with you. Remember the instruction and guidance He gave you in the priesthood blessing you received just Sunday from your father on earth who loves you very much. Remember that Ben loves you and your relationship can be repaired. Now is not the time to give up on him. Hold on for a little bit longer.

Things are hard right now. I know you want to burst into tears at every waking moment. I know you would be happy to have an accident fall upon you so you don't have to face reality. I know you want to quit your job. I know you're exhausted and depressed. I know you feel completely broken, and the glue doesn't seem to be all the way dry before you get dropped off the roof again. But I also know that you are strong. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Be gentle. It's okay to cry. It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to take the time you need to yourself to heal. Do what you need to do. Slow down when you feel like you're going faster than you have the strength.

Breathe. Feel the air fill your lungs and blood course through your veins.

Laugh. Laugh at the silly things your students do. Laugh at the sweet things your sisters do. Laugh when people make ignorant remarks.

Love. Find opportunities to serve. Show those you love that you love them. Look beyond yourself and love others, and as you love others, you will feel God's love for you even stronger.

You can do this. I believe in you.

Love,

Me

Betrayal Trauma Is Real

Sometimes I look at my life--my reactions to things, my thought processes, my ideas and ideals, my desires and motivations, my depression and lack of motivation--and I'm a little surprised at myself. I'm in such a different place than I expected I would be at this point.

I've been betrayed by my best friend, the man to whom I promised my life and gave all my trust. I've suffered in ways that I never imagined would occur to me. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I had planned and acted in ways that would protect me from stuff like this. I know it could be worse, and I'm grateful that it's not worse right now. And I pray that it won't get worse.

But still, I was betrayed. By the guy who I never would have least expected this kind of betrayal. By the guy who I thought I was safest with.

People who don't know about our situation ask me, "What are you going to do when he moves to Texas? It's going to be so hard." You have NO IDEA. My answer probably confuses them: "I'm a little excited about it. I think it will be good for us to have some space and find ourselves a little bit again." That's being optimistic, and it's as honest as I feel like I can be.

People who do know about our situation ask me, "Aren't you scared/nervous for him to move to Texas without you?" Yes I am. I am actually terrified.

Because betrayal trauma is real.

I think his longest period of sobriety of late has been something like 36 days. And that amount of time isn't very common. And it's definitely shorter than the 4 months we will be living apart...

Granted, he is doing well right now, and I'm trying to focus on that and live in the present. He is trying, and I'm seeing real changes in him. I'm so happy for him and the changes he is making. He is happy about it too, and I think that is honestly what makes me the happiest.

But I've been betrayed. The betrayal trauma tells me that this won't last. The betrayal trauma shudders when he kisses or holds me. The betrayal trauma draws back when my heart starts opening up to him again. The trauma has had such an impact on me that my body and mind are trying to protect me. The more open and vulnerable we are, the more there is this part of me that shrieks, "Be careful, KILEE!"

I'm trying to push through it. I'm trying to exercise my agency to choose to have a good day every day. I give myself pep talks. They don't always work, but I desperately try to find things that will work. I'm trying to kick Satan to the curb--with all his baggage.

But it's so hard.

I'm trying to accept myself the way I am

I'm trying to accept Ben as he is.

I'm trying to develop positive coping methods with my stressors and depression.

I'm trying to be joyful and optimistic.

I'm trying to keep the Spirit of Christ in my heart.

I'm trying to take advantage of every opportunity to serve others around me.

I'm trying to smile more.


But it's so hard. Because I've been betrayed. And betrayal trauma is real. It has an impact on all aspects of my life. It's basically hard to function on a daily basis.

I'm learning so much, and I'm trying to let my learning help me find what is truly important. I'm trying to see the light every day rather than dwell in the dark places that are so easy to slip into.


But it's so hard.