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 And I can see the times when, in my anger and stubbornness, I've withdrawn from Him and counted only on myself.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.
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
I have hope
I've been itching to write but not really sure what to write about. Plus, it's really hard to find the time to write these days.
I'm just going to write whatever comes to my mind and heart right now.
Having a child puts a whole new spin on being married to an addict. His decisions no longer just impact us. They impact our child (and future children) too. I knew that before I got pregnant, but I didn't understand it like I do now.
For a long time, I have held on to this hope that he will get better. I've stayed in this and worked with everything I have because of that hope. His recovery was doing really well last year when I got pregnant, and I had so much hope for our family life after the baby was born. But ever since a major relapse last September, things have not been the same. His recovery has been very up and down. I've seen addict mode like I've never seen before, and there was a brief period where he went into hiding things from me again.
There are days when I really question everything. I don't have answers, but as I study the scriptures and talks from General Conference, I just keep feeling peace. As hard as some days are, I know I'm supposed to be with Ben. I don't know if that will ever change, but I'm holding on to what I know to be true right now and doing my best to stay close to God (and that precious time I used to spend studying my scriptures and praying every day is much harder to come by now that I have a child who is very needy and clingy).
We are preparing for some new life changes that we hope will have a very positive impact on the addiction and his recovery. It's hard to make big decisions, but through prayer, we can find the answer that is right for us.
As for me and my own recovery? I feel like I'm in a pretty good place right now. I feel so busy and engaged with our son, that it's much easier for me to detach from the addiction and let Ben make the choices to do what he needs to do (or not do--and that's not on me). I'm trying to be present for myself, my son, and Ben while maintaining boundaries and being strong for myself and my son. I'm trying to have faith, hope, and peace.
One thing that has really struck me recently is the fact that I AM OKAY. He still acts out in his addiction, but I am okay. I can see the addiction for what it is. I can see Ben for who he is. I can see when the addiction is rearing it's head (most of the time...), and I can maintain boundaries and not lose sight of who I am.
Most of the time (I say most because I'm certainly not perfect in this area), I can see my value and beauty. I know who I am and I strive to live up to my potential and not let the addiction bring me down.
I don't know what lies ahead, but I do know we are in God's hands. He will guide us to safety, but we have to follow Him. For our family to stay together, we both have to follow Him. So I really hope that Ben continues on his path to recovery and that it becomes less rocky with time. I have hope.
I'm just going to write whatever comes to my mind and heart right now.
Having a child puts a whole new spin on being married to an addict. His decisions no longer just impact us. They impact our child (and future children) too. I knew that before I got pregnant, but I didn't understand it like I do now.
For a long time, I have held on to this hope that he will get better. I've stayed in this and worked with everything I have because of that hope. His recovery was doing really well last year when I got pregnant, and I had so much hope for our family life after the baby was born. But ever since a major relapse last September, things have not been the same. His recovery has been very up and down. I've seen addict mode like I've never seen before, and there was a brief period where he went into hiding things from me again.
There are days when I really question everything. I don't have answers, but as I study the scriptures and talks from General Conference, I just keep feeling peace. As hard as some days are, I know I'm supposed to be with Ben. I don't know if that will ever change, but I'm holding on to what I know to be true right now and doing my best to stay close to God (and that precious time I used to spend studying my scriptures and praying every day is much harder to come by now that I have a child who is very needy and clingy).
We are preparing for some new life changes that we hope will have a very positive impact on the addiction and his recovery. It's hard to make big decisions, but through prayer, we can find the answer that is right for us.
As for me and my own recovery? I feel like I'm in a pretty good place right now. I feel so busy and engaged with our son, that it's much easier for me to detach from the addiction and let Ben make the choices to do what he needs to do (or not do--and that's not on me). I'm trying to be present for myself, my son, and Ben while maintaining boundaries and being strong for myself and my son. I'm trying to have faith, hope, and peace.
One thing that has really struck me recently is the fact that I AM OKAY. He still acts out in his addiction, but I am okay. I can see the addiction for what it is. I can see Ben for who he is. I can see when the addiction is rearing it's head (most of the time...), and I can maintain boundaries and not lose sight of who I am.
Most of the time (I say most because I'm certainly not perfect in this area), I can see my value and beauty. I know who I am and I strive to live up to my potential and not let the addiction bring me down.
I don't know what lies ahead, but I do know we are in God's hands. He will guide us to safety, but we have to follow Him. For our family to stay together, we both have to follow Him. So I really hope that Ben continues on his path to recovery and that it becomes less rocky with time. I have hope.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Living While Broken
Since Camp Scabs (well, even before, but I've just been avoiding this), I've been thinking a lot. Mainly, I've been thinking about Ben's addiction, our lives now, and the baby coming.
Hearing everyone's stories was both beautiful and triggering. Rehashing my own story was also both beautiful and triggering. I am not fully recovered, nor do I know if I ever will be. The pain I have felt will always be a part of me. Thus, feeling pain through empathy with others' stories along with my own is, well, painful. It serves as a reminder of what we've gone through--the lies and betrayal that have made up our marriage--and it causes me to question things right now. I have so many fears about the present and the future. And if I think too hard, those things totally bring me down.
When Camp Scabs ended, I was terrified to come home. Ben hadn't confessed anything, but I had this paralyzing fear he was omitting details. When I finally straight-up asked him if he acted out while I was gone, he said no. That means this was the first time in a long time, possibly ever, that we had been apart and he hadn't acted out. Another proof of the progress being made (or the lies being told, but really, I believe in his progress. My doubts, however, are a sign of the trauma and pain I have suffered).
I'm trying to think/process/deal with the emotions and fears that I'm experiencing. Things are not perfect. We are broken, but that is a consequence of living this life. We are all a little broken. Learning to live while broken, along with learning how to mend the pieces, are blessings I am discovering. I know pushing away the hard emotions only causes them to build up and explode. I'm coming out of a darkness and numbing period and finally learning how to live again. I occasionally numb again. But overall, I'm dealing and living, which is huge progress on my part.
I want to take a moment to say overall, things are really great. Because of the past, we still have struggles. I think that is an obvious consequence of the actions that have taken place in our relationship. We are both working through things and striving to make ourselves and our relationship better.
It's kind of amazing to think about where we are now versus six months ago, nine months ago, a year ago, two years ago, or three years ago. I have grown up a lot since we were married four years ago and since learning of the addiction three and a half years ago. So has Ben.
Because of the changes I have seen, I have true hope for our futures. I also love him in a way I never have before. We have laid everything on the line in our relationship. We know pretty much everything there is to know about one another (of course, we are still learning and discovering things, as one does in marriage). I know there are still trials ahead, although I secretly believe God could maybe take into consideration that we have possibly met our trial quota for life. Okay, just kidding. But seriously.
We are both a little broken. We both experience negative emotions and triggers. But we talk about those things. We are learning to be transparent with each other. We are learning how to support each other and be on the same team--a marriage--rather than fighting addict vs. non-addict.
I see the fears I experience and try to remember they are not of God. The hope and light I feel--those are from God. Of course, the fears and insecurities I feel are natural results of choices made by my husband in our marriage. However, he is currently making big changes, and I can't ignore those in the name of fear. The primary thing I see in our marriage right now is hope and light. THAT is from God. Balancing the fears and hope is tricky. But I'm trying to do it. I have some better days than other, but holy cow, we are making progress. I am so grateful for that.
I was given the book Carry On, Warrior for my birthday. I'm only 38 pages in, but I'm in love. Glennon's story validates me. The things she writes validate me. Starting it this week, after the vulnerability of last weekend and the pain of Ben's most recent relapse, has helped me see a little more clearly. While we are both broken, together, and with God, we can make this work. It's hard work, but doable. And isn't that what life is about? It wasn't meant to be easy. If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth it. We wouldn't grow. We wouldn't feel. We wouldn't learn. We would just be, with none of the greatness of being.
Life is an adventure. With God, there is more peace to be found and guidance along the way, but life is still hard. We can do hard things. We are warriors. And now we have each other. Working together is beautiful. Seriously. I'm grateful Ben and I are now working together rather than against each other as we have in the past. That's one thing I am not taking for granted and feel incredibly blessed to have.
Hearing everyone's stories was both beautiful and triggering. Rehashing my own story was also both beautiful and triggering. I am not fully recovered, nor do I know if I ever will be. The pain I have felt will always be a part of me. Thus, feeling pain through empathy with others' stories along with my own is, well, painful. It serves as a reminder of what we've gone through--the lies and betrayal that have made up our marriage--and it causes me to question things right now. I have so many fears about the present and the future. And if I think too hard, those things totally bring me down.
When Camp Scabs ended, I was terrified to come home. Ben hadn't confessed anything, but I had this paralyzing fear he was omitting details. When I finally straight-up asked him if he acted out while I was gone, he said no. That means this was the first time in a long time, possibly ever, that we had been apart and he hadn't acted out. Another proof of the progress being made (or the lies being told, but really, I believe in his progress. My doubts, however, are a sign of the trauma and pain I have suffered).
I'm trying to think/process/deal with the emotions and fears that I'm experiencing. Things are not perfect. We are broken, but that is a consequence of living this life. We are all a little broken. Learning to live while broken, along with learning how to mend the pieces, are blessings I am discovering. I know pushing away the hard emotions only causes them to build up and explode. I'm coming out of a darkness and numbing period and finally learning how to live again. I occasionally numb again. But overall, I'm dealing and living, which is huge progress on my part.
It's kind of amazing to think about where we are now versus six months ago, nine months ago, a year ago, two years ago, or three years ago. I have grown up a lot since we were married four years ago and since learning of the addiction three and a half years ago. So has Ben.
Because of the changes I have seen, I have true hope for our futures. I also love him in a way I never have before. We have laid everything on the line in our relationship. We know pretty much everything there is to know about one another (of course, we are still learning and discovering things, as one does in marriage). I know there are still trials ahead, although I secretly believe God could maybe take into consideration that we have possibly met our trial quota for life. Okay, just kidding. But seriously.
We are both a little broken. We both experience negative emotions and triggers. But we talk about those things. We are learning to be transparent with each other. We are learning how to support each other and be on the same team--a marriage--rather than fighting addict vs. non-addict.
I see the fears I experience and try to remember they are not of God. The hope and light I feel--those are from God. Of course, the fears and insecurities I feel are natural results of choices made by my husband in our marriage. However, he is currently making big changes, and I can't ignore those in the name of fear. The primary thing I see in our marriage right now is hope and light. THAT is from God. Balancing the fears and hope is tricky. But I'm trying to do it. I have some better days than other, but holy cow, we are making progress. I am so grateful for that.
I was given the book Carry On, Warrior for my birthday. I'm only 38 pages in, but I'm in love. Glennon's story validates me. The things she writes validate me. Starting it this week, after the vulnerability of last weekend and the pain of Ben's most recent relapse, has helped me see a little more clearly. While we are both broken, together, and with God, we can make this work. It's hard work, but doable. And isn't that what life is about? It wasn't meant to be easy. If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth it. We wouldn't grow. We wouldn't feel. We wouldn't learn. We would just be, with none of the greatness of being.
Life is an adventure. With God, there is more peace to be found and guidance along the way, but life is still hard. We can do hard things. We are warriors. And now we have each other. Working together is beautiful. Seriously. I'm grateful Ben and I are now working together rather than against each other as we have in the past. That's one thing I am not taking for granted and feel incredibly blessed to have.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Hold on to What You Know
My heart is so filled. I don't really know what I was expecting with my last post and hitting "share" on Facebook, but the response has been overwhelmingly beautiful. Thank you to everyone who was courageous enough to share my post. Thank you for everyone who was courageous enough to reach out to me (or others) and Ben. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are fighting with us!
Yesterday, I talked to a dear friend on the phone for a very long time. It was the first time in years that we have been able to talk with so much vulnerability. I was brought to tears as I expressed my love for her, talked about my story, and the reasons why I hadn't been able to tell her. She, like many other people who have contacted me in the last couple of days, spoke of how my faith has been so touching.
Here's the thing. I don't feel like I am outstanding in any way. I don't feel like my faith is exceptionally strong, either. In fact, I want to tell you something:
I have really struggled with a faith crisis because of this. I have especially struggled over the past month, specifically since my episode with my bishop. That happened after the Togetherness Project, and while there, I had heard other horrible stories about church leaders. It all shook me to the core. How could men of the church be so cold and not understanding? And how could God let this happen to us? We didn't ask for this. My life is full of beautiful women, struggling to keep their life together because of this plague. Why can't God make this a little easier on us? You can see a little bit of my faith crisis coming through in this post, but it has run even deeper than just this.
So many times throughout this experience, I have been completely clouded in darkness. And you know what? I now understand why people would choose to leave the church, any church, and choose to not believe in God. It almost seems easier that way. It's so easy to forget the light and just sit in an angry fit of rage (Believe me, I've done it. And it's also made me miserable, and it's been that much harder to reach for the light again when I realized darkness was not what I wanted. Once you sit in darkness, the hole gets deeper. And maybe you don't want to crawl out. Or maybe it's just hard). And then, it's easy to just move on. I have seen so many women who have left the church or chosen not to believe in God, and they say they are so much happier. I have envied them little bit.
But I can't do that. Last week I thought long and hard about this, my faith crisis. I have a friend who found out just after the Togetherness Project (which she attended because she really connected with all of us, and I thank God that she did) that her ex-husband was addicted to pornography. It sent her spiraling. As we talked on the phone about it, and she was really struggling, I said, "Wendy, hold on to what you know." I'm so glad I said that to her because she has now said that to me several times, and it keeps me going.
Because of revelation I have received, because of the light I have felt, and because I feel that I truly know God and Jesus Christ, I just can't choose to leave my church or God. I know too much.
I know that God lives. I know I have a loving Father in Heaven who is just as distraught as I am that this is happening to me. He doesn't want to see me in pain, but He is letting me work through it and find my path to Him. He has given me tools to get there. He has a plan, and I am trying to follow it. As I follow His guidance, I will find joy and happiness in the process of returning to Him. Most importantly, my Father has provided me with a Savior. I know this. I know I can lean on Jesus Christ not only to repent when I do wrong, but also to protect me, guide me, and give me healing for the pains I am suffering.
I am holding on to that. I am clinging to what I know.
I also know without a doubt that the Book of Mormon is true. Reading it has changed me, especially this time around. I finished it earlier this year and immediately started over. And since I started over, I have found so much to be applicable to my life and my journey to find Christ (and since I started over is when all hell broke loose in our marriage, so it was even more crucial for me to find the stuff I'm finding in that book). I can't deny that. I can't deny what I know. And that is why I can't let it go.
I have been able to see through this pain to know that God has a plan for me. I have tried so hard to stay close to him (except for when I haven't). Going "public" with my blog was a really scary thing. But, like I said, it's been beautiful. I feel truly humbled. I have incredibly seen how God has, in fact, been guiding me to this point. Had we not followed the prompting to share our stories, I wouldn't have met so many amazing people. And those who have come to me in complete gratitude would not have been touched the way they were.
I'm sincerely not saying any of this to brag. I am just completely in awe of how God has allowed me to be His servant and a hand of light for Him. Because of all of you, I feel even more inspired to continue staying on the path that I am walking. I am grateful to YOU for how you have touched my life.
I know what I have said in this post could be controversial to some. I wouldn't want anyone to think I am being self-righteous or judge those who have left the church (any church) or chosen to not believe in God. I respect everyone's ability to choose for themselves, and I certainly don't judge anyone for making choices they have made in efforts to come to peace with their life. This is just my story and my testimony. Please respect what I have to say as much as I respect what you have to say.
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Yesterday, I talked to a dear friend on the phone for a very long time. It was the first time in years that we have been able to talk with so much vulnerability. I was brought to tears as I expressed my love for her, talked about my story, and the reasons why I hadn't been able to tell her. She, like many other people who have contacted me in the last couple of days, spoke of how my faith has been so touching.
Here's the thing. I don't feel like I am outstanding in any way. I don't feel like my faith is exceptionally strong, either. In fact, I want to tell you something:
I have really struggled with a faith crisis because of this. I have especially struggled over the past month, specifically since my episode with my bishop. That happened after the Togetherness Project, and while there, I had heard other horrible stories about church leaders. It all shook me to the core. How could men of the church be so cold and not understanding? And how could God let this happen to us? We didn't ask for this. My life is full of beautiful women, struggling to keep their life together because of this plague. Why can't God make this a little easier on us? You can see a little bit of my faith crisis coming through in this post, but it has run even deeper than just this.
So many times throughout this experience, I have been completely clouded in darkness. And you know what? I now understand why people would choose to leave the church, any church, and choose to not believe in God. It almost seems easier that way. It's so easy to forget the light and just sit in an angry fit of rage (Believe me, I've done it. And it's also made me miserable, and it's been that much harder to reach for the light again when I realized darkness was not what I wanted. Once you sit in darkness, the hole gets deeper. And maybe you don't want to crawl out. Or maybe it's just hard). And then, it's easy to just move on. I have seen so many women who have left the church or chosen not to believe in God, and they say they are so much happier. I have envied them little bit.
But I can't do that. Last week I thought long and hard about this, my faith crisis. I have a friend who found out just after the Togetherness Project (which she attended because she really connected with all of us, and I thank God that she did) that her ex-husband was addicted to pornography. It sent her spiraling. As we talked on the phone about it, and she was really struggling, I said, "Wendy, hold on to what you know." I'm so glad I said that to her because she has now said that to me several times, and it keeps me going.
Because of revelation I have received, because of the light I have felt, and because I feel that I truly know God and Jesus Christ, I just can't choose to leave my church or God. I know too much.
I know that God lives. I know I have a loving Father in Heaven who is just as distraught as I am that this is happening to me. He doesn't want to see me in pain, but He is letting me work through it and find my path to Him. He has given me tools to get there. He has a plan, and I am trying to follow it. As I follow His guidance, I will find joy and happiness in the process of returning to Him. Most importantly, my Father has provided me with a Savior. I know this. I know I can lean on Jesus Christ not only to repent when I do wrong, but also to protect me, guide me, and give me healing for the pains I am suffering.
I am holding on to that. I am clinging to what I know.
I also know without a doubt that the Book of Mormon is true. Reading it has changed me, especially this time around. I finished it earlier this year and immediately started over. And since I started over, I have found so much to be applicable to my life and my journey to find Christ (and since I started over is when all hell broke loose in our marriage, so it was even more crucial for me to find the stuff I'm finding in that book). I can't deny that. I can't deny what I know. And that is why I can't let it go.
I have been able to see through this pain to know that God has a plan for me. I have tried so hard to stay close to him (except for when I haven't). Going "public" with my blog was a really scary thing. But, like I said, it's been beautiful. I feel truly humbled. I have incredibly seen how God has, in fact, been guiding me to this point. Had we not followed the prompting to share our stories, I wouldn't have met so many amazing people. And those who have come to me in complete gratitude would not have been touched the way they were.
I'm sincerely not saying any of this to brag. I am just completely in awe of how God has allowed me to be His servant and a hand of light for Him. Because of all of you, I feel even more inspired to continue staying on the path that I am walking. I am grateful to YOU for how you have touched my life.
I know what I have said in this post could be controversial to some. I wouldn't want anyone to think I am being self-righteous or judge those who have left the church (any church) or chosen to not believe in God. I respect everyone's ability to choose for themselves, and I certainly don't judge anyone for making choices they have made in efforts to come to peace with their life. This is just my story and my testimony. Please respect what I have to say as much as I respect what you have to say.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Why I Stay
Read the first three posts: 1, 2, 3.
Back when we were dating, I remember asking God to help me love Ben if I was supposed to. When you're dating, there are big decisions ahead. The big decisions could be things like wondering if it's time to break up or to more forward in the relationship.
For me, dating was all a confusing mess. I was dealing with a lot at the time, both in my dating life and my personal life. Ultimately, I had pure motivations. I wanted to follow God. I didn't know what God had in store for me, I had faith that God knew the plan. I had faith that He would guide me, and I had faith in following His plan. I knew if I did what He directed, I would live the life that could bring me the fullest joy and bring me back to Him.
Dating Ben was complicated. Here I had a man who I knew loved me, but for some reason I couldn't love him back. It took me a while. I've since learned that I had suppressed trauma and that led me to have a hard time forming serious, committed dating relationships. At the time, however, I just felt craziness and confusion spinning around in my head. So I prayed. I felt like it wasn't fair for Ben to love me so much. I felt like it wasn't fair for me to put him through everything I had (dating him, not dating him, dating him again. not dating him again). So I prayed, asking God what to do. I asked God to help me love him if that was what I was supposed to do. I knew if my plan included Ben, God would help me love him.
I find it ironic that I did that while we were dating. I had no obligation to love him. I just felt like we had been through too much, and I cared about him too much, to think that nothing would ever seriously happen between us. It's kind of weird. But, looking back, I see that I learned a valuable lesson about turning to and trusting God through that whole dating experience.
Let's talk about now.
When I manage to pull out of the depression and anger to really evaluate what is going on, I know that now is not the time to leave my marriage. I've seriously contemplated separation. We were separated in February and March--February with minimal contact, and March with more frequent contact. I've contemplated separation again, but right now I don't know if that's right. I think it would be more of an escape rather than a boundary. I feel like right now, we are supposed to be working together. Together, not separated.
Whether or not I ask for a separation, I'm not planning on leaving the marriage for good (at least not right now. I do know it's a possibility in the future). I'm choosing to stay. This is why:
1. I feel like God wants me to. And no matter what, I will try to have faith in that and follow God's plan for me.
2. I have hope. While things are certainly hard and trying, I have hope that Ben will be healed, I will be healed, and our marriage will be healed.
3. I am growing. If God wants me to stay, at the very least I can see that I am growing and developing strength and faith that will help me, and help me help others, throughout my life.
4. I love Ben. Sometimes I hate him, but deep down, I love him. I'm not ready nor willing to give up everything we've fought for. Right now, I won't accept no as an answer from him. He will be in recovery, and he will be healed. (We'll see how that goes. I, in reality, have no say over his being in recovery.)
My love for Ben and my love for God are driving me to stay. I really do have hope that Ben will be healed because I have hope in the Atonement, and I have hope in light's power over darkness. It helps that Ben has made a lot of progress in the past few years. Even though his progress can be fickle, I do know that if he weren't making progress, we would be living a whole different story.
As we uncover more and more how the addiction has harmed our marriage, sometimes my life feels empty and dark. But, I have hope because the only reason "we" are uncovering more and more about the addiction is because of the work Ben is doing. He is in recovery. He isn't perfect, but he is progressing.
Ben isn't always honest, but he is much more honest with himself and me than he used to be.
He is also getting better at communicating icky, emotional things that are uncomfortable to discuss.
He loves me too.
His empathy for me is ever-increasing as he realizes the impact the addiction has on me and on our marriage. And he tries to empathize and understand me.
He is getting better at shame-busting.
He does a lot for me, too. I don't want to get all sappy and talk about all the cute things he does. But, if he didn't have the addiction, I probably couldn't imagine a life any different or better. So, he's got that going for him. Now, if only we could get rid of the stupid addiction...
The moral of the story is I have hope. And I'm grateful for a husband who is trying. I keep telling him, as long as he tries, I will try. If he stops trying, and I know there is no hope to get the real Ben back, that is likely when I will stop trying as well. That is when we should be really worried for our marriage.
Right now, I'm staying. Even thought it all sucks. The light I feel from hope will conquer the darkness I feel from the crappiness of my situation. Lately, I've had more dark days than light. But I'm trying to turn that around. Light is supposed to win.
And I know things. I know God. I know Jesus Christ. I know with them, I will win, whatever winning is. I will win because of them. That's what I'm holding on to. Faith and hope.
I started writing this little saga on Monday. It was supposed to be a post about the irony of my life right now. But then I started getting into more detailed processing, which is why it has turned into four posts. I just want to say thank you for loving and supporting me as I've processed my hurt and anger right now. I was stuffing it inside instead of dealing with it. I'm glad I could finally attempt to deal with it. And Wendy, don't worry. I'm holding on to what I know. Thanks for keeping me in line :D
Back when we were dating, I remember asking God to help me love Ben if I was supposed to. When you're dating, there are big decisions ahead. The big decisions could be things like wondering if it's time to break up or to more forward in the relationship.
For me, dating was all a confusing mess. I was dealing with a lot at the time, both in my dating life and my personal life. Ultimately, I had pure motivations. I wanted to follow God. I didn't know what God had in store for me, I had faith that God knew the plan. I had faith that He would guide me, and I had faith in following His plan. I knew if I did what He directed, I would live the life that could bring me the fullest joy and bring me back to Him.
Dating Ben was complicated. Here I had a man who I knew loved me, but for some reason I couldn't love him back. It took me a while. I've since learned that I had suppressed trauma and that led me to have a hard time forming serious, committed dating relationships. At the time, however, I just felt craziness and confusion spinning around in my head. So I prayed. I felt like it wasn't fair for Ben to love me so much. I felt like it wasn't fair for me to put him through everything I had (dating him, not dating him, dating him again. not dating him again). So I prayed, asking God what to do. I asked God to help me love him if that was what I was supposed to do. I knew if my plan included Ben, God would help me love him.
I find it ironic that I did that while we were dating. I had no obligation to love him. I just felt like we had been through too much, and I cared about him too much, to think that nothing would ever seriously happen between us. It's kind of weird. But, looking back, I see that I learned a valuable lesson about turning to and trusting God through that whole dating experience.
Let's talk about now.
When I manage to pull out of the depression and anger to really evaluate what is going on, I know that now is not the time to leave my marriage. I've seriously contemplated separation. We were separated in February and March--February with minimal contact, and March with more frequent contact. I've contemplated separation again, but right now I don't know if that's right. I think it would be more of an escape rather than a boundary. I feel like right now, we are supposed to be working together. Together, not separated.
Whether or not I ask for a separation, I'm not planning on leaving the marriage for good (at least not right now. I do know it's a possibility in the future). I'm choosing to stay. This is why:
1. I feel like God wants me to. And no matter what, I will try to have faith in that and follow God's plan for me.
2. I have hope. While things are certainly hard and trying, I have hope that Ben will be healed, I will be healed, and our marriage will be healed.
3. I am growing. If God wants me to stay, at the very least I can see that I am growing and developing strength and faith that will help me, and help me help others, throughout my life.
4. I love Ben. Sometimes I hate him, but deep down, I love him. I'm not ready nor willing to give up everything we've fought for. Right now, I won't accept no as an answer from him. He will be in recovery, and he will be healed. (We'll see how that goes. I, in reality, have no say over his being in recovery.)
My love for Ben and my love for God are driving me to stay. I really do have hope that Ben will be healed because I have hope in the Atonement, and I have hope in light's power over darkness. It helps that Ben has made a lot of progress in the past few years. Even though his progress can be fickle, I do know that if he weren't making progress, we would be living a whole different story.
As we uncover more and more how the addiction has harmed our marriage, sometimes my life feels empty and dark. But, I have hope because the only reason "we" are uncovering more and more about the addiction is because of the work Ben is doing. He is in recovery. He isn't perfect, but he is progressing.
Ben isn't always honest, but he is much more honest with himself and me than he used to be.
He is also getting better at communicating icky, emotional things that are uncomfortable to discuss.
He loves me too.
His empathy for me is ever-increasing as he realizes the impact the addiction has on me and on our marriage. And he tries to empathize and understand me.
He is getting better at shame-busting.
He does a lot for me, too. I don't want to get all sappy and talk about all the cute things he does. But, if he didn't have the addiction, I probably couldn't imagine a life any different or better. So, he's got that going for him. Now, if only we could get rid of the stupid addiction...
The moral of the story is I have hope. And I'm grateful for a husband who is trying. I keep telling him, as long as he tries, I will try. If he stops trying, and I know there is no hope to get the real Ben back, that is likely when I will stop trying as well. That is when we should be really worried for our marriage.
Right now, I'm staying. Even thought it all sucks. The light I feel from hope will conquer the darkness I feel from the crappiness of my situation. Lately, I've had more dark days than light. But I'm trying to turn that around. Light is supposed to win.
And I know things. I know God. I know Jesus Christ. I know with them, I will win, whatever winning is. I will win because of them. That's what I'm holding on to. Faith and hope.
I started writing this little saga on Monday. It was supposed to be a post about the irony of my life right now. But then I started getting into more detailed processing, which is why it has turned into four posts. I just want to say thank you for loving and supporting me as I've processed my hurt and anger right now. I was stuffing it inside instead of dealing with it. I'm glad I could finally attempt to deal with it. And Wendy, don't worry. I'm holding on to what I know. Thanks for keeping me in line :D
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Together We Rise Above
I attended the Togetherness Project in Phoenix this weekend. I feel like I have a hangover of TTP fun right now:
Late-night talking and good, clean fun. Chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. Relationship-building--with friends both old and new. Crying. Laughing.Sleeping Not sleeping enough.
If heaven is like this, sign me up.
I learned so much from the conference, but the biggest take-away I had was just the CONNECTION and love I felt from everyone. We need connection. We live in a world, and especially if you are LDS, we live in a culture that says, "Don't talk about this." The world tells us it's not a big deal anyway (which makes you kind of afraid to talk about the pain of this because you don't want to be judged), and the LDS culture says it needs to be hush-hush. I went a whole year before I reached out to anyone because a bishop had told me I wasn't allowed to. It was supposed to stay in the marriage. Then I attended LDS 12-step. Those were the only people I confided in. Then I wanted to tell a friend, so I asked Ben's permission (now I don't ask permission. I tell whoever I feel the need and deem "safe"). Over time, I started reaching out here and there, and reaching out has brought me the highest amount of healing aside from the Atonement.
I attended the Togetherness Project in SLC in October, and it was awesome. The classes, connection, everything.
This one was awesome too. But the connection I found as I attended both projects is what's been most important to me.
My Warrior Sisters are my best friends. They know me in and out, backwards and forwards. They know the deepest, darkest secrets and pains. They know my greatest joys. They know everything there is to know about me except for the few things I DO keep only within my marriage. There is a high level of vulnerability and acceptance in this part of my life, and I love it. I need it. We all need it.
I've had ideas forming of ways I want to reach out in my general area. There are still steps I need to take in order to start working on them, and TTP has given me a little push of strength to press forward. I know there are so many people who need this--the connection, validation, love, and healing through vulnerability and friendship. They need to know they aren't alone. No one should be suffering alone.
Late-night talking and good, clean fun. Chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. Relationship-building--with friends both old and new. Crying. Laughing.
If heaven is like this, sign me up.
I learned so much from the conference, but the biggest take-away I had was just the CONNECTION and love I felt from everyone. We need connection. We live in a world, and especially if you are LDS, we live in a culture that says, "Don't talk about this." The world tells us it's not a big deal anyway (which makes you kind of afraid to talk about the pain of this because you don't want to be judged), and the LDS culture says it needs to be hush-hush. I went a whole year before I reached out to anyone because a bishop had told me I wasn't allowed to. It was supposed to stay in the marriage. Then I attended LDS 12-step. Those were the only people I confided in. Then I wanted to tell a friend, so I asked Ben's permission (now I don't ask permission. I tell whoever I feel the need and deem "safe"). Over time, I started reaching out here and there, and reaching out has brought me the highest amount of healing aside from the Atonement.
I attended the Togetherness Project in SLC in October, and it was awesome. The classes, connection, everything.
This one was awesome too. But the connection I found as I attended both projects is what's been most important to me.
My Warrior Sisters are my best friends. They know me in and out, backwards and forwards. They know the deepest, darkest secrets and pains. They know my greatest joys. They know everything there is to know about me except for the few things I DO keep only within my marriage. There is a high level of vulnerability and acceptance in this part of my life, and I love it. I need it. We all need it.
I've had ideas forming of ways I want to reach out in my general area. There are still steps I need to take in order to start working on them, and TTP has given me a little push of strength to press forward. I know there are so many people who need this--the connection, validation, love, and healing through vulnerability and friendship. They need to know they aren't alone. No one should be suffering alone.
I'm so grateful for Jacy for getting this rolling. She has the biggest heart of anyone I know, and I love her.
I'm grateful for everyone who has contributed to my healing and reached out to me in love and support.
I'm grateful for my Warrior Sister-friends.
Together we rise above.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Enduring Well
D&C 121: 1, 6-8
(my plea)
1 O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?
6 Remember thy suffering saints, O our God; and thy servants will rejoice in thy name forever.
(God's response)
7 My [daughter] peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment.
8 And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; and thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.
Yesterday I went to the temple. It was a beautiful experience--exactly what I needed. I found peace, inspiration, and guidance for many questions and trials I'm facing.
As I sat, studying scriptures and pondering, at the end of my session, I was led to these verses. They HIT me with full force. But the thing that struck me the most was verse 8: "if thou endure it well."
I don't know about you, but I put a lot of pressure on myself to endure things perfectly. I am a perfectionist, something I get from my dad and my controlling nature, and I have hard time settling for okay, well, or good-enough. I want perfection.
I put pressure on myself to get through all my trials with perfection. I compare myself to others suffering similar trials and wonder why they can do it with magnificence while I am here feeling like a chicken with its head cut off.
The thing is, everyone's trials and abilities are different. No one is the same. I can't compare myself to others or I will go crazy. I know that, but I still do it, unfortunately. The great thing about these verses, is it takes pressure off perfectionism. God doesn't want me to be perfect or endure perfectly. He wants me to endure well. He knows my situation. He knows everything I am facing. He knows my depressions and anxieties, and He knows how they affect my abilities. Well is relative to my situation and abilities. It's relative to everyone. Everyone's ability to endure well is different.
Lesson learned? Stop comparing myself to others and just do my best with what I have to work with. God accepts my sacrifice. He accepts my enduring well. So why can't I? Patience, Kilee. Patience.
Also, these trials are a small moment in time compared to the eternal scheme of things. Big sigh of relief. Perspective helps me get through one day at a time.
Accepting myself and my abilities to cope, along with learning how to become better through God, is part of my quest for wholeness. I felt whole at the temple. Nothing mattered except God, me, and my relationship with Ben.
One day at a time.
(my plea)
1 O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?
6 Remember thy suffering saints, O our God; and thy servants will rejoice in thy name forever.
(God's response)
7 My [daughter] peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment.
8 And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; and thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.
Yesterday I went to the temple. It was a beautiful experience--exactly what I needed. I found peace, inspiration, and guidance for many questions and trials I'm facing.
As I sat, studying scriptures and pondering, at the end of my session, I was led to these verses. They HIT me with full force. But the thing that struck me the most was verse 8: "if thou endure it well."
I don't know about you, but I put a lot of pressure on myself to endure things perfectly. I am a perfectionist, something I get from my dad and my controlling nature, and I have hard time settling for okay, well, or good-enough. I want perfection.
I put pressure on myself to get through all my trials with perfection. I compare myself to others suffering similar trials and wonder why they can do it with magnificence while I am here feeling like a chicken with its head cut off.
The thing is, everyone's trials and abilities are different. No one is the same. I can't compare myself to others or I will go crazy. I know that, but I still do it, unfortunately. The great thing about these verses, is it takes pressure off perfectionism. God doesn't want me to be perfect or endure perfectly. He wants me to endure well. He knows my situation. He knows everything I am facing. He knows my depressions and anxieties, and He knows how they affect my abilities. Well is relative to my situation and abilities. It's relative to everyone. Everyone's ability to endure well is different.
Lesson learned? Stop comparing myself to others and just do my best with what I have to work with. God accepts my sacrifice. He accepts my enduring well. So why can't I? Patience, Kilee. Patience.
Also, these trials are a small moment in time compared to the eternal scheme of things. Big sigh of relief. Perspective helps me get through one day at a time.
Accepting myself and my abilities to cope, along with learning how to become better through God, is part of my quest for wholeness. I felt whole at the temple. Nothing mattered except God, me, and my relationship with Ben.
One day at a time.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Constancy and Hope
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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.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
The "How's it Going" Question
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Today after church, I was stopped by a man in my ward who asked me how school is going. My response was hesitant at first. I didn't know what to say because I'm constantly fighting depression, and honestly, school is hard. And saying that is being relatively optimistic. When I answered him, I chose, "School is great. (smile and pause.) But it's also hard and stressful." I thought that was a good answer. It was the truth, and I was not dragging on about the hard and stressful part. Then he looked at me and said, "So it's great."
"Well yeah, it's great. But it's also hard." Not really sure why I couldn't just leave it just at great.
"It's great." Why can't he accept the hard part?
"Yes, But hard too." Still not sure why I had to keep saying it.
"Well you only needed to say its great. I don't need to know its stressful."
Pause.
Then he said, "It helps you be more positive if you focus on the great and not the hard." Good advice, I guess, but as I wrote in my last post, I've been in denial about things going on in my life. I don't think dishonesty with myself is the answer to being more happy. My final response to him was, "Well it really doesn't help me feel better about things if I have to lie to people about how I feel when they ask me how it's going." Then he laughed and said his job sucks, and that he keeps telling himself it's great in hopes that it will somehow change the situation, and he will convince himself it really is great. Hm... doesn't seem to me like lying to yourself is the answer to optimism. But we're all different, and maybe that works for him. I like the quote I found for my picture at the top of this post. "If you want to be happy, be." That's my philosophy. I can't force myself to be happy. I can only be and make the best of what is, and that is how I can become happier.
Okay, this conversation made me think about a lot of things that have actually been on my mind lately. Why do we have to be so closed?! Why is it not okay to say I'm stressed out? Why is there this societal phobia of saying anything negative in public? (Okay, maybe an exaggeration. But you have to admit, it is pretty bad. People don't want to hear negativity. Even if you aren't being negative, even if you are being realistic, people don't want to hear it.)
My issue isn't with this guy and the conversation I had with him. My issue is with the fact that it's how society as a whole expects us to be. Closed. Tough. Perfect. No one should know about our inner struggles. We're supposed to pretend we don't have any.
I disagree. How much better would our lives be if we gave honest answers to the "Hi, how are you?" question? How much better would our lives (and others' lives) be if we actually cared to know people's honest answers?
In my ideal world, people would ask me those kinds of questions and actually care about the answer. I could say, "You know, things are kind of hard right now. But I'm holding on. I'm trying to make it work." Maybe I could even mention porn (gasp!). If they asked what they could do for me, they could accept a simple answer like "Please pray for me." They wouldn't need to solve all my problems--they would just let me cry, and they would cry with me.
I think we could all be more compassionate and understanding. I think we should speak up. For heaven's sake, if someone asks you how you're doing, and you're not doing well at all, tell them. Okay, okay, you don't have to go into detail because that may be pushing it, but you could say something like, "I'm actually having a hard time right now, thanks for asking. It's nice to know someone cares about me. How are you?" And maybe, if they really do care, they will ask to know more about why you aren't doing well. And maybe you will feel safe enough to tell them. And maybe they would show some love and compassion towards you when they see that side of you. I think it's safe to say we would all be at least a little more compassionate if we knew what was really going on in people's lives. (And society could sure use a little more compassion.)
We all have stories. We are all living hard lives. Seriously, that is what life is. It's hard. We are here to experience pain and grow. We are here to live this life and become more like Christ through it so we can live with God again. It just makes it all the more hard when we have to put on that perfect persona and waltz through life like we are sitting on clouds and eating ice cream like it's a vegetable. No one is doing that. No one has that perfect life.
People have mistaken me for having a perfect life. You know what I want to say to them? I want to word vomit all over them. I want to share with them every little detail about how hard things are and then say, now tell me how perfect you think my life is. But I don't. Because I am told that society doesn't want to hear my inner struggles. Those inner struggles are for me and those very intimately close to me. Like my husband, who is addicted to porn (not a jab, just an honest statement for effect). But as I've shared more with people, that has helped me develop more intimate relationships.
Like I said, we all have stories. We have different abilities to carry trials and bear different burdens. Some people's trials may seem impossible. Our trials may seem impossible to others. Some trials may seem trivial, but to that person, it's HUGE. We all have stories, and I think there is power in coming together with our stories. I think there is power in letting people be open and share themselves.
There is power in vulnerability.
I wish society would let us be more vulnerable instead of saying, "I don't want to hear that. Just tell me how awesome and perfect your life is."
"If you want to be happy, be." Be you. Be brave. Be honest about your life. Let things be, and let them work themselves out how they need to.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Addiction=Hard
This week has been hard, happy, exhausting, crazy, and blessed. I've fought anger. I've taught impatience. I've felt unloved and not special. I've felt very loved and very special. I've experienced many moments of pain and many tender mercies. I've felt alone and seen God's hand. There is much I could write about, but I'll just simply say I have a testimony of God and Jesus Christ. They live, and they love us.
And now I will skip anything I wanted to say about this week (except for the fact that we moved out of my parents' house yesterday!!) and get to the heart of what I'm thinking and feeling today.
Yesterday, Jack and I were mad at each other for a good chunk of the morning. While I was driving home from getting the moving truck, I had an angry conversation with him in my head (so I had arguments ready if I had to defend my mood). It was during this time that I realized I had this unsettled feeling that he wasn't telling me something. I had that feeling a lot this week, but I never addressed it because I didn't want to deal with it. Plus, I didn't have anything other than the feeling that he wasn't telling me something.
He wrote about it on his blog. On Wednesday. My birthday. He thought I would read it. He hoped I would read it, but I didn't. I rarely have time to read any blogs except on Sundays when I catch up. Last night, we were finally alone in our new house, finally feeling some peace, when he asked if I read his blog. I hadn't, so I read his three-day old post. Old news for the rest of the blogging community, but fresh to me. He struggled all week.
My first reaction was crying because all the tension I felt about him not telling me something finally disappeared. And it validated my feelings. Then we both just sat and thought. I'm sure he was wondering what I would say/do and was a little afraid.
I feel so torn. I feel sad, a little mad, a little hopeless, but still full of hope. Yesterday, during the RS broadcast, I decided to turn over my anger, impatience, and fears over to God. That was before this discovery incident. That decision was based on all the negative feelings I had suffered all week long. Since then, I've felt much more peace and hope, and I felt more prepared to take in this fresh pain and turn to Christ.
But then I'm torn because I kind of want him to feel what I feel. I want him to understand what this is doing to me. And I feel sorry for him. I feel sad for him. He is really struggling and is afraid of what could happen to our marriage, and I really can't be encouraging right now. There is a line. I don't know what it is, but there is one. I am dedicated to keeping our marriage intact and upholding my covenants, but really how hard is he trying? I know there are victories for him in fighting the addiction, but the losses are what will destroy us and him.
He told me last night he doesn't want the addiction to define him. I told him it doesn't have to, but he has to choose that. Right now, he seems to be letting it define him. He has to fight hard. I have to fight hard. And we have to fight together.
Addiction sucks. It really does. I'm trying not to let this bring me down, but it's exhausting. Week after week. Day after day. When will I completely go crazy? It's bound to happen, right? I guess not if I can keep turning to the Atonement.
This is just hard. While I am grateful for how we have grown and the beauty that lies in our relationship, I do miss the innocence I thought we had.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Carried Through Weak and Powerless
Today I woke up feeling weak and powerless. I've been so incredibly emotional the past few days.
The couch thing didn't turn out bad. Like I said in my last post, it made him think and realize the severity of the situation. Yesterday morning, he climbed into bed with me when my alarm went off, and we kind of clung to one another for a few minutes before we got up to go swim.
After we swam, we went to my school where we spent seven hours doing stuff in my classroom (he is a trooper!). We had fun, and Jack did some incredible service for me. I couldn't be ready for school to start tomorrow if it hadn't been for him.
After our long day at work, we went out to dinner. While there, Jack decided he wanted to see a movie. The problem is, by that time, it was kind of late and the only movies playing were high in sexual content or language. I really wanted to see a late show with him because he was so excited about going out to a movie. After looking up different movies to see why they were rated what they were rated and reading the descriptions, I told him I didn't think I could go see anything. In my opinion, most of the movies out right now are crap. Movies could be so much better without that one scene or that one word (and by that one word, I literally mean that one word--that really bad one that is suddenly okay to have more than once in PG-13 movies). We like watching movies together, but lately, we've found ourselves watching Everybody Loves Raymond re-runs quite often. Seriously. [Today, he said he should change his name to Frank on the blog so we could be Frank and Marie. I suggested that originally, and he shot it down. He is in denial about the fact that he would shut something down that is so genius. But in reality, I wouldn't want to be Frank and Marie anyway. I don't really admire their relationship--I just think it's funny.]
Anyway, we decided not to go out to a movie... and then the depression hit. With the crazy-busy day winding down and the realization that most of the movies out are ones we are probably not going to see, everything from the past few days caught up to us. First he got depressed. I'm not entirely sure what happened. I think he had been stifling it all day and then it just came out. After his depression came out, then came mine. I went to read my scriptures, but he didn't want to read his. That's a red flag for me, and it got my cycle to rolling.
I started swimming in depression. Or drowning. I read in the Lorenzo Snow book about the Atonement, and it was really good. But then I fell asleep thinking--worrying and fearful. And here is the heart of my depressed state: I was afraid that his depression would beat him this time. I was afraid that he will give up and choose to live in his addiction. I faced the fear that he will give up on us and me. There is a downward spiral here that I don't want to finish writing about because I'm ashamed of it. I'm afraid of it. I still faced those fears this morning (even now if I choose to dwell there, which I will not choose because I am going to win this battle). I felt like I was drowning in my pain, and I know without a doubt I have been carried through this day.
We watched Return to Me last night. I bawled the whole time. When I watch movies like that, it's hard for me to not put myself in the characters' positions. I was already emotional, and that made the emotions hit me worse.
I woke up still feeling in a funk. Like I said in the beginning: weak and powerless. However, this day has shown me so many blessings. Christ is very literally holding me up today. I know I'm not carrying myself. I first felt His lifting me up on the way to church when we listened to the songs "Emma" and "One Who Understands."
I in no way compare my pain to Emma's, but I love this song because it does describe my pain almost perfectly. The situations are different, but I can totally feel this song. The video kind of takes away from how it relates to me because like I said, our situations are totally different. But I hope you get what I'm saying about how I can feel the song. You can listen to it for me, and then watch the video for her if you want.
"One Who Understands" is also one of my favorites. This song is from the Nashville Tribute to the Pioneers (Trek) CD. The power of the Atonement as described in this song, along with the pain, really hits home for me. One of my favorite lines is the part where she feel so helpless she wants to scream. Yes, been there. "Savior, the world was on your shoulders. For every drop of pain that fell in my name, I'm forever thankful...When I think no one could know, when no one else could know, when I think no one could know, I remember One who understands."
These are both in my recovery playlist. They bring me relief and comfort. They were among the songs that came on the other day while I was driving to work (tender mercy).
I'm experiencing many tender mercies today--from these songs playing on the way to church, to the time I took to write during sacrament meeting, to the lyrics to the sacrament hymn, to the joy I felt teaching Sunday School to my kids, to the lesson we had in Relief Society ("Lord, I Believe" from General Conference). I know I'm being carried, and for that I'm so grateful. I know that all the fear I feel/have felt is from Satan, and I'm trying to battle it. I'm trying to cling to my Savior and let Him lift me up.
Today started out rocky. It's going well, though. This is one of those times I talked about in my Scaffolding post where God is holding me up so I don't fall down, but I know soon I will have the strength I need to do this on my own, and He will lift me up again when I face harder challenges. He is always there. Always.
"If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth."--Mark 9:23
And sometimes it's okay to drown your sorrows in fresh cookies :D
Today started out rocky. It's going well, though. This is one of those times I talked about in my Scaffolding post where God is holding me up so I don't fall down, but I know soon I will have the strength I need to do this on my own, and He will lift me up again when I face harder challenges. He is always there. Always.
"If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth."--Mark 9:23
And sometimes it's okay to drown your sorrows in fresh cookies :D
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Scaffolding
Okay, I don't know for sure where this post is going. Another writing for therapy post (kind of). I have lots I want to write about, but I barely have time to think, let alone write and think and make sure this is all clear.
I made a goal on Sunday to feel close to God and increase my relationship with Him. I kept praying that He would help me increase my desire for a clearer understanding of my relationship with Him. I prayed that He would help me so I wouldn't give up.
I was blessed. I was incredibly blessed on Sunday to feel peace from the craziness surrounding me. I felt a ray of hope that I am not alone despite how alone and neglected by God I feel (was feeling). During the sacrament, I related this trial of feeling alone to scaffolding. Scaffolding is a term used in education that basically means you give the student help and support for the things they don't know (like scaffolding on a building so they don't fall over), but for the things they do know and understand well, you remove your help when it is no longer needed. Then you provide scaffolding for harder concepts, and remove it again when it is no longer needed. And the cycle of scaffolding continues to increase learning. If that makes sense. In the sense of the trials I've been facing lately, especially feeling alone, I realized that God has always been there, not just there but right there by my side holding me up when I absolutely need Him to be. When I've "mastered" a concept, He has removed his scaffolding holding me up a little bit to see if I am strong enough on my own.
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I think that's what happened last week. Despite my determination to have a fresh start after my last post, I didn't. I pretty much finished that post feeling high and powerful over my day, and then something happened that made me feel like crap again. I prayed and prayed and still felt my faith wavering a little. I felt like my tears and freaking out should have been enough for any little sign that God was watching over me. I prayed that He would send someone just to text me and say "Hey I'm thinking about you today" to know I was cared for. Nothing. Not a single thing happened to show me He was there (although in reality, plenty of things show me His presence every single day, but when you are clouded in darkness it's hard to see). I wanted to be angry, but I knew that was bad ground to tread, so I just felt miserable.
I kept holding on, though. I held on and kept praying. I prayed earnestly. I kept my eyes open for Him. And, He did grant me relief. At church. In the hymns. In the peace I felt. In the fact that I got to lead the music in sacrament and play the piano in Relief Society. In the talks I read during the sacrament. In the little things that answered questions and prayers I'd had recently.
I realized that these things were indeed, "but a small moment." I gained perspective. And I was reminded that I can't expect growth without trial. I can't be the person I want to be if I'm not given hard things to help me grow. I saw that God had been holding me up, but then He removed Himself from me a little bit to let me see what I can do and what kind of faith I have on my own.
I turned my will over to God. Again. I find that I keep having to do that on a regular basis. I was reminded that I do have a lot of built up stress, especially with school so close (and boy-howdy, I have to daily turn myself over to God so I don't have a panic attack that school starts next week. Every day I'm getting more ready--with His help. When in reality half the time I just want to cry about it.).
Confession:I have a hard time dealing with stress. I have a hard time dealing with change. I have a hard time dealing with hard things. Surprised? Probably not. I tend to deny those traits about myself. Like how one time, I got a haircut that was a dramatic change. I almost cried, and my father-in-law said, "Well, you've never been one for change." I was mad. But he was right. I was just mad that my weakness was so obvious.
Right now, I think it's because I'm just feeling so exhausted with hard things. But when I remember that hard things are the price I pay for greatness, I feel empowered. And when I remember that Christ has felt all this and more, that He paved the way for me, I feel empowered. I have the knowledge. I have the faith. Do I have the faith to enjoy, not endure but enjoy, to the end? Yes I do.
I have to face reality, and the sooner the better.
Reality: Life is hard. Being a school-teacher is hard. Being a high-school-teacher when you are not that much older than the students is hard. Trials are hard. Financial burden is hard. Addiction is hard. Marriage is hard. Foot issues and back problems make teaching harder. Teaching Sunday School is kind of hard. Being a perfectionist is hard (I really need to loosen up). Being stressed about the fact that I'm so easily stressed out is hard. Relying on God sounds simple enough--but it's hard. My reality is that life is hard. And that is okay, because it is supposed to be hard. How else would we gain the knowledge and talents we need to return to our Father?
I know I am where I need to be. I am supposed to be teaching high school at the school I'm at. I'm supposed to help advance technology and lead the older teachers to see the vision of paperlessness (that is hard, but I'm getting there). I'm supposed to be a leader and role model for these students. I'm supposed to be married to my man. We are supposed to live where we are. I'm supposed to depend on God.
Things are hard, but I know for sure that I'm in the right place and doing the right things.
My goal for myself (which I have been working on this week) is not to get down when things are hard. I will face my fears and hardships with my brave face on. I will not get discouraged when I think I can't do something. Instead, I will pray for strength. And eat cookies if that helps do the trick. I will accept that things are hard, and life is hard. And I will tackle the hard things like they don't even phase me.
PS, my Relief Society president made the most beautiful and heart-warming announcement about addiction recovery and the Togetherness Project on Sunday. It seriously made me so happy and fuzzy inside.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Together!
Are you going? I AM!! I booked my flight last night! It's becoming real for me, and I'm so excited!
Jacy posted flyers on her blog today. Print them! Post them! Hand them out! Let's keep spreading the word! There are so many women who need this, but they don't know about it yet!
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
I am important!
Things have been going really great lately. So, this morning when I was overcome with stress and felt the Darkness coming in, it freaked me out a little bit. I was trying to piece things together in my head and push it all away for another time while I studied my scriptures and read through my love dare for the day, when Jack, who was getting ready for work, came to give me a hug. He felt something was wrong, and asked if I was okay.
I always want him to notice and ask me if I'm okay. I always want him to notice without me telling him. He's a guy, though, so he usually doesn't or just doesn't know how to approach it. It kind of caught me off-guard, and I didn't know what to say, especially since I had been trying to hide it all until after he left. He had to leave in ten minutes, and I felt like any explanation I could give him would require more than a ten-minute discussion. After a moment of silence and hesitation, I said, "The Love Dare is hard." [and that is a post for a different day.] In my frustration, I cried a little. The real reason I was being weird was not the Love Dare. That was only a small part of it, which was indeed making it worse. But that wasn't the root of my issues this morning.
After another moment of hesitation, I released the real issue: "I'm really stressed about the Togetherness Project. I really want to go, but I just don't think it's do-able. The flight is too expensive for us, and I don't know how it will work with school. I don't know what will be happening at that time, and maybe it's a time when I won't be able to leave. [ps we are living with my parents right now because of our financial woes. My parents are not in on the addiction secrecy... Jack doesn't feel comfortable with anyone in our families knowing] I don't know how I will just leave for a weekend without having to have some explanation for my family, either. And I don't know how I can spend a weekend in Salt Lake without your family knowing, and I miss your family so much! I don't feel like it's even fair to go for the Togetherness Project and not visit your family, but then we would have to explain why I'm there without you. Plus, we need to get into a house. This will set us back, and it makes me feel so selfish." I buried my face in my hands and started crying.
He came and sat by me on the couch, took my hands, looked me in the eyes and said, "You know what I think is happening?"
"Satan?" I whispered.
"Yeah. Whenever you've talked about the Togetherness Project, you light up. You really want to go. And it will be really good for you to go. Satan knows that, and he wants to make it seem impossible. He wants to overwhelm you and make you feel miserable about it so you won't go. Don't worry about the money. We will figure it out. We both have jobs now [even though I don't get my first teacher paycheck until the end of August], so we can afford it better than you think. And it won't set us back very much in moving out of your parents' house and into our own. It will be okay. Don't worry about it."
I kept talking about the things stressing me out about this. I followed him around while he finished getting ready, and we kept discussing it. Finally, right before he left, he said, "Just remember that you are important. This is important. It's a priority for you to go. Satan wants you to feel like you aren't important, that your recovery and healing aren't important. He doesn't want you to feel the peace and validation you are going to feel while you are there. You are important. Apply for the scholarship, and we will make it all work out."
I love him. His being in tune with my needs this morning was amazing. He said exactly what I needed to hear. He validated me. He gave me perspective. He saw the root of my feelings, and that was darkness from Satan. He knows how it works. I know how it works, but sometimes I second-guess it when it's happening to me.
I'm grateful to have such a thoughtful, smart husband. I'm grateful that he cares and is willing to make the financial sacrifice to ship me off to Utah for the Togetherness Project.
Amen, sistas! I'm applying for that scholarship!
I always want him to notice and ask me if I'm okay. I always want him to notice without me telling him. He's a guy, though, so he usually doesn't or just doesn't know how to approach it. It kind of caught me off-guard, and I didn't know what to say, especially since I had been trying to hide it all until after he left. He had to leave in ten minutes, and I felt like any explanation I could give him would require more than a ten-minute discussion. After a moment of silence and hesitation, I said, "The Love Dare is hard." [and that is a post for a different day.] In my frustration, I cried a little. The real reason I was being weird was not the Love Dare. That was only a small part of it, which was indeed making it worse. But that wasn't the root of my issues this morning.
After another moment of hesitation, I released the real issue: "I'm really stressed about the Togetherness Project. I really want to go, but I just don't think it's do-able. The flight is too expensive for us, and I don't know how it will work with school. I don't know what will be happening at that time, and maybe it's a time when I won't be able to leave. [ps we are living with my parents right now because of our financial woes. My parents are not in on the addiction secrecy... Jack doesn't feel comfortable with anyone in our families knowing] I don't know how I will just leave for a weekend without having to have some explanation for my family, either. And I don't know how I can spend a weekend in Salt Lake without your family knowing, and I miss your family so much! I don't feel like it's even fair to go for the Togetherness Project and not visit your family, but then we would have to explain why I'm there without you. Plus, we need to get into a house. This will set us back, and it makes me feel so selfish." I buried my face in my hands and started crying.
He came and sat by me on the couch, took my hands, looked me in the eyes and said, "You know what I think is happening?"
"Satan?" I whispered.
"Yeah. Whenever you've talked about the Togetherness Project, you light up. You really want to go. And it will be really good for you to go. Satan knows that, and he wants to make it seem impossible. He wants to overwhelm you and make you feel miserable about it so you won't go. Don't worry about the money. We will figure it out. We both have jobs now [even though I don't get my first teacher paycheck until the end of August], so we can afford it better than you think. And it won't set us back very much in moving out of your parents' house and into our own. It will be okay. Don't worry about it."
I kept talking about the things stressing me out about this. I followed him around while he finished getting ready, and we kept discussing it. Finally, right before he left, he said, "Just remember that you are important. This is important. It's a priority for you to go. Satan wants you to feel like you aren't important, that your recovery and healing aren't important. He doesn't want you to feel the peace and validation you are going to feel while you are there. You are important. Apply for the scholarship, and we will make it all work out."
I love him. His being in tune with my needs this morning was amazing. He said exactly what I needed to hear. He validated me. He gave me perspective. He saw the root of my feelings, and that was darkness from Satan. He knows how it works. I know how it works, but sometimes I second-guess it when it's happening to me.
I'm grateful to have such a thoughtful, smart husband. I'm grateful that he cares and is willing to make the financial sacrifice to ship me off to Utah for the Togetherness Project.
Amen, sistas! I'm applying for that scholarship!
Friday, July 26, 2013
I don't understand, and that is okay
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| Minus the pride part. Because I'm trying to be humble ;) |
I need a little soul-dumping session. Bear with me.
In the past three years, I've experienced a lot of heartache. Looking back, it's all been a crazy whirlwind. The dating/engagement stuff was a whole other story with heartache. That's not where I'm beginning today.
Just after we got married, there was the car accident, which was traumatic for me (I'm still struggling with the upper back and neck injuries). The real, deep heartache started with my first D-Day, about two and a half years ago. Just a couple months after that, though, as I was still sorting through everything regarding the addiction, I had the prompting that we should start our family.
We had already decided we weren't going to start trying until at least our last semester of college. So, first, I was a little shocked that I felt the prompting to start trying to get pregnant because I (we) still had over a year left of school. That wasn't really that big of a deal though. I wasn't about to let school stop me from following that prompting. Besides, it's not like it's that abnormal at BYU to find young mothers finishing up school. The real reason I was shocked was because I was dealing with the damage of finding out my husband is a sex-addict. And, I mean, you know...when you're trying to get pregnant, you have sex a lot. And it's kind of scheduled. And as the wife of a sex-addict, you don't really like feeling like you have to have sex, which was how I felt while we were trying to get pregnant.
A few weeks after the initial prompting, I talked to Jack about it. He had been feeling it too (we actually figured it out that we received the initial prompting on the exact same day. cool, huh?), so we decided to go for it. While trying, there were days that it was hard, and there were days when I didn't want to have sex, and there were days that I just refused because I emotionally couldn't handle it. But overall, we tried really hard to get pregnant. I had God on my side, and He helped me find peace and healing. I had faith in Him and His plan and following the promptings He had given me.
Ten months later...I was still not pregnant. I know ten months is really not that long in the grand scheme of things, but I felt very infertile and let-down. I had followed the prompting. I tracked my ovulation. I scheduled sex. I was dealing with the emotions that come with the pornography and masturbation. I was having faith. And I was still not getting pregnant!
It was so frustrating!! Then came the time when we had to choose to keep trying or not because if I got pregnant, the baby would be due during my student-teaching. We didn't know what to do, but after fasting and prayer, we decided to stop trying to get pregnant for a few months (just in case. You can't really give birth while you're student-teaching. And we felt like me graduating later was wrong for us...which, as it turns out was absolutely the right decision because we followed the Spirit to where we live now, and this move was right after graduation).
We stopped trying for a few months. I still always wished I could be pregnant, but the emotions weren't as high-strung because there wasn't that disappointment every month when I started my period. Then, we felt the prompting to start again. So we did, until my lower-back went out. After that, it became physically impossible to have sex, much less carry a baby. That has been the hardest part of the trial with my lower-back. I just want to be a mom. I love teaching, and my students are like my children. I love them. But still, I want to be a mom!
So, here is the reason I'm writing all this. That was just the backup story for what I'm really getting at. I wrote on here a few months ago that we were going to start trying again. Then, addiction stuff got in the way, and I felt like we couldn't try anymore because of my emotional instability. Something beautiful happened, though, and God gave me the ability to see things clearly (not that what I am about to say applies to everyone. Because it doesn't. Somehow, I have had the strength to do all this in the midst of addiction hurt. Just a blessing because this is how it's supposed to be for us, but my way isn't for everyone. Just so that is all clear). I have been able to separate my husband and our relationship from the addiction. I've been able to be loving and supportive (and I've been doing the Love Dare), and I've been putting a lot of effort into our relationship. We've been trying to get pregnant. And I've been enjoying it. It's been much less emotionally painful than when we were trying two years ago. We are drawing closer together, and the pregnancy-trying process is much more beautiful than it was before. It's been really good for us.
Earlier this week, my body was telling me all the signs of pregnancy. That's happened a few times before, though (fake-outs), so I was trying not to think about it. I didn't want to even think for a second that I might be pregnant because when I think that, it's so much harder when I start my period. But, on Sunday, I finally told Jack my little secret--that I actually think I am pregnant this time. I told him why. And then I started crying and told him I couldn't handle it if I wasn't. I promptly pushed all thoughts away. Except they didn't go away.
My period was a day late. I started spotting. When it got heavier than spotting, though, I was crushed. I turned it over to God, and I felt so much better. I felt peace along with the pain. The pain was still real, but the peace was so overwhelming that I couldn't even feel any anger at all. No anger for the feelings I had that maybe God was playing with my body and tricking me. None at all. Just peace and the knowledge that He had it under control.
Usually day two of my period is SUPER heavy--and it wasn't this time. It was still just a little more than spotting. Thought: implantation bleeding. I started crying. I told Jack what was going on in my head, and my thoughts started going warp-speed. Long story short(ish): all week long, my body has still been showing me signs of pregnancy. My period was only half as long as normal, and it NEVER got heavy like it usually does. Yesterday, while I was depressed and studying my scriptures, trying to find peace, I had this overwhelming feeling come over me that said, "You're pregnant. You'll see. Don't stress." Which of course, stressed me out. I kept trying not to think about it because I wasn't sure I could believe it.
Talking to Jack last night, as I told him all these things and the feelings I had (it was more than just that simple thought. It was a very spiritual experience for me, and a lot more was going on than just that one thought), I expressed my fear that I would take my pregnancy test in the morning (I had an x-ray for my lower back scheduled this morning, so I had to take the test) and it would be negative. And then I would have experienced those feelings of peace and "it's okay you're pregnant" stuff in vain. As I was talking to him, the scripture, "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief" came to mind, and I felt peace. So, I prayed and asked God to help me trust Him: I so wanted to trust Him, but I was scared. I fell asleep. I slept fitfully.
This morning I took my pregnancy test, and it was negative.. And then, I felt peace wash over me as I thought, "I knew that would happen." I felt peace, but I was a little angry (anger is my mask for really sad) and could have used a hug. I basically pushed myself away from my husband, who probably wanted to help me, but I didn't invite him (and I wish he wouldn't always wait to be invited because sometimes us women don't want to tell our husbands hey hug me right now. We want them to just know!).
So, what is going on? I don't know. But I have some thoughts.
As I drove home from my chiropractor (after my x-ray. getting that x-ray is one blessing of not being pregnant. I can physically see how my back is doing on Monday, and maybe I will be released to return to normal activity! There is always hope for something!), I reflected on all of this. All of the heartache I have experienced:
Jack's addiction: emotional damage
Infertility: it's been over two years since we first started trying. That's two years of really wanting kids and all of that stuff that you really only know about if you have experienced it. Emotional pain.
Grand total:15-16 months infertile; 10 months incapable
Addiction + Infertility = PAIN
First of all, I feel like my trust and faith have been challenged, and I've lived up to the test. Check-mark for me! Yesterday, as I studied my scriptures, I asked myself the question (that I often ask when I am depressed), why do we have to submit to God? Why do I have to be humble? (Sometimes I get a little too close to the bitter line.) In reality, we don't have to, we aren't forced, and I know that when I do submit to God and am humble, I experience joy beyond imagination. It's only through God that I experience true happiness. I felt peace in my submission to God.
I don't know why I would have those experiences telling me I am pregnant and then not be. But I'm not mad. Maybe it was to show me my true colors. Maybe it was to show me my strength. Maybe it was to challenge me to turn to God in faith. Maybe it was to help me find the only way to peace and healing.
I kind of want to be mad. But I'm not. I feel a little numb, and I definitely feel sad and heartbroken, but I have peace. I have faith.
I had this thought earlier this week about infertility: maybe I need to prepare myself spiritually, and maybe there are things I need to experience before I have children. And no matter what, I'm receiving fantastic growth because of this trial, especially since it overlaps the addiction trial.
I had this thought yesterday about infertility: maybe part of the reason women experience this is because they are ready, but their children aren't. When I have fake-out months, maybe I have a spirit-child who is going to come to earth, but then "chickens out" (for lack a better term). Maybe my children are sensitive spirits, and they see this scary, immoral world they are coming into, and they get scared. My infertility is preparing me (if I choose to learn and grow from it) to be a better mother, which would be even better for sensitive spirits.
I had this thought this morning about my infertility: Maybe the timing on all this (how the promptings to try to get pregnant coincide with hard times in the addiction) is to give us both hope for our eternal family. For me, it helps me see the bigger picture, thus treating Jack better and trying harder to be happy in our marriage. And maybe it gives him motivation for addiction-recovery so he can be a worthy patriarch and priesthood holder in our family. Maybe when we are actively trying to get pregnant, it helps him see beyond the addiction and what joys lie in store in the eternities.
I don't know. Those are just thoughts. All I know is this: I'm not pregnant, and that is okay. Along those lines, my husband has an addiction, and that is also okay. My life is hard, and that is normal. It's okay! It's all okay! I have a Savior who has felt every single pain I feel. He has felt all of this already. He knows how I feel. He knows how to comfort me. I have a Father who loves me. He doesn't want me to be unhappy. He doesn't want me to turn away from Him. I also know this: if I choose anger in my trials, I will ruin my happiness. If I choose to turn away from God because of my trials, I will lose out on so much beauty in this life and in my life to come.
I really don't know what just happened to me this week with the whole pregnancy fake-out. Part of me thinks I imagined it, that it was all in my head and I'm crazy. But, I can't deny what I have felt. I'm not crazy, and I didn't imagine anything. I don't understand it, but maybe some day I will. Right now, I feel okay just trusting and having peace.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
We are pioneers!
Hi, my name is [Marie], and I'm a modern-day pioneer.
In the Utah and LDS communities, today is a holiday called Pioneer Day. Today, we celebrate our ancestors who moved across the globe to follow the prophet's call (and Utahns who aren't LDS may just celebrate the fact that Utah was settled by pioneers who paved a way across America). Today, I celebrate their strength, their devotion, and their desire to follow Christ.
I know pioneer stories. Women gave birth on the trails travelling west. Women lost husbands and children. Families lost fathers, mothers, grandparents, siblings and dear friends. People starved. People froze. People were killed by threatening mobs. Our pioneer ancestors endured so much. Their stories give me hope and strength, and I am proud to honor them on this special day.
When I hear/read/discover stories of our pioneer ancestors, I can't help but think how I don't think I could do that. Their trials sound impossible. Many of them probably thought the same thing. However, they did it. They made it through because of the grace of God. They had hope and faith. I know many of them were grateful for their sufferings because it brought them humility, gratitude, and closer to their Savior.
When I think of my own trials, I sometimes can't help but think how impossible they seem. I have many examples, though, that show me nothing is impossible. I have God on my side to lift me up and give me strength. I also have the ministering of angels to lift me up and give me strength. I've seen examples in my pioneer ancestry, and I read of examples in the Bible and Book of Mormon, that show me how I can be lifted. They show me that through my Savior, I can have strength to bear all things.
The world is still full of pioneers. I am one. I am a pioneer fighting sexual immorality and fighting to save my marriage. I am a pioneer trying to help others understand sex-addiction and not be so judgmental about it. I am a pioneer trying to help others come unto Christ and find the healing they need.
You are a modern-day pioneer. If you don't think you are, you can be. Today.
Today is pioneer day. Do something to honor our ancestors. Find a cause to fight for! Share the good news of the gospel with others! Befriend someone who needs it! Serve someone today! Share joy! Share love! That's what it's all about!
And if you are a pioneer fighting sexual immorality and finding healing in your marriage (or something else that is just really really hard), celebrate yourself today. Eat some brownies or something! I know I will!
In the Utah and LDS communities, today is a holiday called Pioneer Day. Today, we celebrate our ancestors who moved across the globe to follow the prophet's call (and Utahns who aren't LDS may just celebrate the fact that Utah was settled by pioneers who paved a way across America). Today, I celebrate their strength, their devotion, and their desire to follow Christ.
I know pioneer stories. Women gave birth on the trails travelling west. Women lost husbands and children. Families lost fathers, mothers, grandparents, siblings and dear friends. People starved. People froze. People were killed by threatening mobs. Our pioneer ancestors endured so much. Their stories give me hope and strength, and I am proud to honor them on this special day.
When I hear/read/discover stories of our pioneer ancestors, I can't help but think how I don't think I could do that. Their trials sound impossible. Many of them probably thought the same thing. However, they did it. They made it through because of the grace of God. They had hope and faith. I know many of them were grateful for their sufferings because it brought them humility, gratitude, and closer to their Savior.
When I think of my own trials, I sometimes can't help but think how impossible they seem. I have many examples, though, that show me nothing is impossible. I have God on my side to lift me up and give me strength. I also have the ministering of angels to lift me up and give me strength. I've seen examples in my pioneer ancestry, and I read of examples in the Bible and Book of Mormon, that show me how I can be lifted. They show me that through my Savior, I can have strength to bear all things.
The world is still full of pioneers. I am one. I am a pioneer fighting sexual immorality and fighting to save my marriage. I am a pioneer trying to help others understand sex-addiction and not be so judgmental about it. I am a pioneer trying to help others come unto Christ and find the healing they need.
You are a modern-day pioneer. If you don't think you are, you can be. Today.
Today is pioneer day. Do something to honor our ancestors. Find a cause to fight for! Share the good news of the gospel with others! Befriend someone who needs it! Serve someone today! Share joy! Share love! That's what it's all about!
And if you are a pioneer fighting sexual immorality and finding healing in your marriage (or something else that is just really really hard), celebrate yourself today. Eat some brownies or something! I know I will!
Saturday, July 13, 2013
The Whirlwind This Week
This week has been a whirlwind. I don't even know where to begin.
I've experienced extreme highs and extreme lows.
My chat with Bishop last Sunday gave me a whole new perspective on things. I'm glad I took a slight break from the Love Dare because resuming it with this fresh attitude has been amazing for me. I feel love on a whole new level. That love has helped carry me through the week, and it really has been pretty wonderful. I've enjoyed doing little things for Jack during the day, and I have a more joyful attitude about everything in general.
I've come to some conclusions about our relationship that I hadn't realized before. Day 10 of the Love Dare is "Love is unconditional." As I read the chapter, I realized that maybe when we got married, my love for Jack was based on more "qualifications" than unconditional love.
Here is why:
I loved that he had a strong testimony of the gospel. I loved that he treated me and my body with respect. I loved that he gave service to people quite frequently, and I loved that he is a very genuine and caring person. I loved that he was adorable when playing with his nieces and nephews. I loved how he treated his mom and sisters. I love that he took his little sister on a date. I loved his passion for basketball and running. I loved his desire to be fit and healthy. I loved how much I was attracted to him. I loved him because he was my best friend. And all that good outweighed the little things that did bother me (like the fact that he is half an inch shorter than me). I loved him, but it was kind of a little on the side of does he meet my checklist? (not entirely that kind of love, but hopefully you will get the point I'm getting at.)
During this chapter (Love is unconditional), it asks the question, "Why do you love your spouse?" Most people would list qualities or characteristics of their spouse. Then it asks, "What if over the course of years, your spouse stopped being those things? Would you still love him/her?" Based on the reasons listed, the logical answer would be no. You wouldn't still love your spouse if he/she changed if your love was solely based on those certain qualities. And I realized that is part of why it's hard to see love in my marriage: because I've realized my husband isn't all that I thought he was. Is my love for him strong enough and dedicated enough to try to make this work? Yes. Because I have unconditional love. (**NOTE: due to the situation, though, there are some things that are conditional, and that is okay. Boundaries related to the addiction, if broken, could be cause for contemplation of and possible carry-through of divorce. I definitely do not judge anyone who has gone through or is going through a divorce, especially if you've given all you can, and double-especially if addiction and abuse have been involved.)
I'm working on building a stronger unconditional love. I'm also working on cherishing my husband more. I'm working on letting stubbornness and pride go. I'm working on being more considerate and loving. I'm learning to take delight in my relationship with Jack.
My love is growing deeper. It's more pure. I can feel it, and he can feel it. My heart is being softened, and so is his. I feel so much hope and joy!
But like I said, this week has been a whirlwind of emotional highs and lows. With the excitement of my love increasing, I had extreme high points [beautiful]. But Satan is also attacking me, and that's where the lows have come.
Both Thursday and Friday, I was just plain depressed. Then I had things that triggered me, and both nights I cried myself to sleep. Gut-wrenching sobs. Hyperventilating sobs. Like the time when we broke up before we got engaged,or when I discovered the addiction. Yesterday, I was just so sad. I just kept clinging to God and relying on Him to carry me through the day. He did, and today I feel much happier. But it's crazy how swamped in darkness I felt. Jack didn't even have relapses this week. It was just things that triggered me. I've also realized that just because he isn't relapsing doesn't mean I shouldn't be feeling pain or fear. I have a lot of wounds to be healed. Maybe they will open up and bleed sometimes, and that's okay. I just need to treat them.
I still feel that darkness creeping in. I feel it ready to break into my soul at the first moment it can. I'm trying not to let it. Because "the darkness inside...can make [me] feel so small."
The song "True Colors" has helped get me through this week. It's my current favorite song. There is so much depth and meaning, and it describes perfectly so many things in my life. And it has hope.
I love The Voice. Michelle's version of this song was simply beautiful and amazing. It's her version that I listen to on repeat. And yes, it makes me tear up every time.
You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh, I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small
But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
Your true colors
Are beautiful like a rainbow
Show me a smile then
Don't be unhappy
Can't remember when
I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there
And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
See your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
Your true colors
Are beautiful like a rainbow
If this world makes you crazy
You've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there
And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
True colors are shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
Are beautiful
I've experienced extreme highs and extreme lows.
My chat with Bishop last Sunday gave me a whole new perspective on things. I'm glad I took a slight break from the Love Dare because resuming it with this fresh attitude has been amazing for me. I feel love on a whole new level. That love has helped carry me through the week, and it really has been pretty wonderful. I've enjoyed doing little things for Jack during the day, and I have a more joyful attitude about everything in general.
I've come to some conclusions about our relationship that I hadn't realized before. Day 10 of the Love Dare is "Love is unconditional." As I read the chapter, I realized that maybe when we got married, my love for Jack was based on more "qualifications" than unconditional love.
Here is why:
I loved that he had a strong testimony of the gospel. I loved that he treated me and my body with respect. I loved that he gave service to people quite frequently, and I loved that he is a very genuine and caring person. I loved that he was adorable when playing with his nieces and nephews. I loved how he treated his mom and sisters. I love that he took his little sister on a date. I loved his passion for basketball and running. I loved his desire to be fit and healthy. I loved how much I was attracted to him. I loved him because he was my best friend. And all that good outweighed the little things that did bother me (like the fact that he is half an inch shorter than me). I loved him, but it was kind of a little on the side of does he meet my checklist? (not entirely that kind of love, but hopefully you will get the point I'm getting at.)
During this chapter (Love is unconditional), it asks the question, "Why do you love your spouse?" Most people would list qualities or characteristics of their spouse. Then it asks, "What if over the course of years, your spouse stopped being those things? Would you still love him/her?" Based on the reasons listed, the logical answer would be no. You wouldn't still love your spouse if he/she changed if your love was solely based on those certain qualities. And I realized that is part of why it's hard to see love in my marriage: because I've realized my husband isn't all that I thought he was. Is my love for him strong enough and dedicated enough to try to make this work? Yes. Because I have unconditional love. (**NOTE: due to the situation, though, there are some things that are conditional, and that is okay. Boundaries related to the addiction, if broken, could be cause for contemplation of and possible carry-through of divorce. I definitely do not judge anyone who has gone through or is going through a divorce, especially if you've given all you can, and double-especially if addiction and abuse have been involved.)
I'm working on building a stronger unconditional love. I'm also working on cherishing my husband more. I'm working on letting stubbornness and pride go. I'm working on being more considerate and loving. I'm learning to take delight in my relationship with Jack.
My love is growing deeper. It's more pure. I can feel it, and he can feel it. My heart is being softened, and so is his. I feel so much hope and joy!
But like I said, this week has been a whirlwind of emotional highs and lows. With the excitement of my love increasing, I had extreme high points [beautiful]. But Satan is also attacking me, and that's where the lows have come.
Both Thursday and Friday, I was just plain depressed. Then I had things that triggered me, and both nights I cried myself to sleep. Gut-wrenching sobs. Hyperventilating sobs. Like the time when we broke up before we got engaged,or when I discovered the addiction. Yesterday, I was just so sad. I just kept clinging to God and relying on Him to carry me through the day. He did, and today I feel much happier. But it's crazy how swamped in darkness I felt. Jack didn't even have relapses this week. It was just things that triggered me. I've also realized that just because he isn't relapsing doesn't mean I shouldn't be feeling pain or fear. I have a lot of wounds to be healed. Maybe they will open up and bleed sometimes, and that's okay. I just need to treat them.
I still feel that darkness creeping in. I feel it ready to break into my soul at the first moment it can. I'm trying not to let it. Because "the darkness inside...can make [me] feel so small."
The song "True Colors" has helped get me through this week. It's my current favorite song. There is so much depth and meaning, and it describes perfectly so many things in my life. And it has hope.
I love The Voice. Michelle's version of this song was simply beautiful and amazing. It's her version that I listen to on repeat. And yes, it makes me tear up every time.
You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh, I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small
But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
Your true colors
Are beautiful like a rainbow
Show me a smile then
Don't be unhappy
Can't remember when
I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there
And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
See your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
Your true colors
Are beautiful like a rainbow
If this world makes you crazy
You've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there
And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
True colors are shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors
Are beautiful
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