"That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake"

I was not going to write about this because of a few reasons that are very personal, but I had a powerful spiritual experience tonight prompting me to write about my week.

Ben has been out of town. Normally, when he goes out of town I get bitter and angry, which I think has to do with insecure attachment, triggers, and trauma. However, this time was different. I didn't feel that same anger or bitterness. I just accepted it and was determined to make it a good week.

Of course, that went to pot on Tuesday. I should've known the more I accept things, the more I will be challenged.

Tuesday night I found out Ben had relapsed. This hit me harder than I actually thought it would.

For one thing, we are experiencing a trial that we haven't experienced before: He is currently not allowed to exercise the priesthood. At all. Not even in the home (in the past, when he has been asked not to exercise the priesthood, he has been encouraged to still exercise the priesthood in the home). I can't remember when this happened, but it's been months. And I feel like our family has suffered from not being able to have Ben exercise the priesthood. For reasons I don't really want to explain right now, it's hard for me to reach out and ask someone else for a priesthood blessing, for either me or the little guy. I do when I feel like it's really super necessary, but if I think, "Well, maybe I'll pass this time," (which I have been thinking way more than I used to since I can't actually ask the man in my home), it turns into a lot of opportunities passed on.

Our bishop set certain dates/goals for Ben to help him work full activity in the church again. This Sunday (like, in two days) was supposed to be the one where if he could remain sober till this Sunday, he could start partaking of the sacrament again. He was so close. So close! And he next mark (I can't remember the spacing though) was for Priesthood, and the next one for the temple. I was way more devastated by the fact that this was a setback in him being able to exercise the priesthood again than by the details of acting out.

Anyway, it took a few hours to sink in. But then, when it did, I was a mess. A MESS. I reached out to my bishop, who happens to live across the street, asking for a blessing (I'm not sure I would have reached out to our home teachers in this circumstance, but I didn't have that option anyway because I have no clue who they are). It was pretty late, 10:00, so I decided if I had no response by 10:15, I would just go to bed. At 10:15, I had no response, so I sent him another text saying I was going to bed and not to worry about it.

That night, Baby Boy slept terribly. When he woke up at 12:15, I managed to get him back to sleep fairly quickly, but when he woke up at 4:30, all hell broke loose. No joke. We both spent much of the next two hours crying. And then two more hours crying/drugging ourselves with Mother Goose Club.

I asked God for strength to deal with it. But when I felt that strength waning and Satan starting to take over, I started begging, pleading with God to just let me get this kid to sleep. He needed sleep, I surely needed sleep. And I felt like I just knew that if I prayed/begged/pleaded enough, He would intervene. At 8:30, baby fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, and I did not feel like it was an answer to prayer. I felt bitter, angry, and violent (I did not do anything violent other than punch a wall. But I'm sure you have felt violent anger before...), and I felt like I was just an inch away from Satan taking complete control over me.

I didn't understand why God had abandoned me. Maybe He didn't, and when the kid fell asleep it was because of divine intervention. I didn't feel that way, though. I felt like I had done everything I could, and here I was with a fresh disclosure weighing me down and a child who wouldn't sleep (and I had been sick, so generally tired anyway). I felt like I knew my own limitations, and when I prayed for strength, I was doing okay. But when the strength faded and I prayed for sleep, I needed that help right then. Why it took two more hours for that prayer to be answered, I don't know. But I felt abandoned. I felt on the verge of Satan taking over, and I didn't understand why God had let it go that far when so much pain could have been avoided if He had helped when I called out.

And then, my bishop never reached out to me. He knew about the disclosure, and he knew Ben was out of town. I just thought, surely he would reach out to me to check on me and make sure I was okay after the text I had sent him the night before. And I thought, if God loves me, He will prompt my bishop to come visit with me. But nothing. He has told us multiple times to reach out to him any time, and many times, our reaching out has gone completely unanswered. So, that felt like yet another way I was abandoned by God. I was too hurt to reach out to him again.

Some other ridiculously stupid stuff happened on Wednesday that made me feel like the day was just hilariously terrible (but I was smiling by the end of the day), and I had worked through my feelings so I no longer felt bitter, angry, or abandoned. Confused, yes, but okay. I seriously went through a period of thinking I should just go inactive because maybe the bishop would pay more attention if I was an inactive member of the ward who reached out.  I also considered this option just out of pure spite. But, in the end, I knew that would be a poor choice and I just tried to accept the week's happenings and move on with my life.

Yesterday (Thursday), so many things happened that showed me God had not abandoned me. I just felt strong, capable, and loved. I sent up a lot of prayers of gratitude.

But what happened tonight is the sole purpose of everything else I have written.

This week has been exhausting, to say the least. Beautiful, but exhausting. Tonight, I got the little one in bed and sat on the couch wondering what to do first. I had promised myself earlier in the day that I WOULD do gospel study tonight, but the time came and I just felt so exhausted that all I wanted to do was veg. But, I chose to read a talk from general conference entitled "I Am A Child of God" by Elder Donald L. Hallstrom (read it here). I didn't get to pay enough attention to conference last weekend, so I've been studying the talks throughout the week. And this one, well, this was perfectly timed to come across today.

Words cannot even describe how beautiful this talk is. I highly encourage everyone to study it and let the Spirit speak to you in whatever way you need. But I want to share a couple quotes that particularly spoke to me:

In real life, we face actual, not imagined, hardships. There is pain—physical, emotional, and spiritual. There are heartbreaks when circumstances are very different from what we had anticipated. There is injustice when we do not seem to deserve our situation. There are disappointments when someone we trusted failed us. There are health and financial setbacks that can be disorienting. There may be times of question when a matter of doctrine or history is beyond our current understanding.

When difficult things occur in our lives, what is our immediate response? Is it confusion or doubt or spiritual withdrawal? Is it a blow to our faith? Do we blame God or others for our circumstances? Or is our first response to remember who we are—that we are children of a loving God? Is that coupled with an absolute trust that He allows some earthly suffering because He knows it will bless us, like a refiner’s fire, to become like Him and to gain our eternal inheritance?

Recently, I was in a meeting with Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. In teaching the principle that mortal life can be agonizing but our hardships have eternal purpose—even if we do not understand it at the time—Elder Holland said, “You can have what you want, or you can have something better.”

and the last verse of "How Firm a Foundation"

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, I’ll never, no never,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!

These words spoke to me. They reminded me that I cannot see all, but God can. I don't know why I'm going through all the trials I am right now (there are more than I have just written about). Sometimes I feel like I am suffering so much in so many different ways, and I wonder why I can't just have a "normal" life--whatever that is. Why do I have to keep trying so hard all the time? Why can't I just have some peace...like my husband could go out of town, sure, but even if he had to relapse, couldn't I just have a baby who slept through the night he relapsed instead of waking up and being crazy when I'm exhausted and in trauma? Can't I catch a break?

But the reality is, after the 24 hours where pretty much everything went wrong, I had chosen God's path. And I felt peace and the knowledge that things were okay even though I didn't understand why I was experiencing what I did. And, two days after that first 24 hours, I have seen so much more light. We truly can't experience the light until we have experienced the darkness. I caught myself expressing gratitude for my trials on Wednesday. I didn't even know why I felt grateful, but I knew there had to be a divine purpose. There is. There always is. 

The addict is out of town for three weeks...

Ben started a new job and is out of town for orientation and training for three weeks. He was issued a new computer through his company, and he has a lot of internet access on his phone right now [for work purposes].

Anyway, we've got triggers galore right here.

First of all, there is him being gone for three weeks. He doesn't have a great track record when it comes to sobriety and traveling.

Then there is all the internet access...

Meanwhile, I'm left to care for a one-month old without my husband. It's been difficult, but it's getting easier. [And I went to stay with my family so I have help.]

I didn't know how to set a boundary with this trip. Well, other than the usual let-me-know-within-24-hours boundary. But a couple days into his trip, I realized what I needed. It's very hard to communicate because of time zones, conflicting schedules, and a baby who seems to know when to cry to disturb phone calls. So, I asked him to email me a check-in every night. He knows what to write and what things I expect him to discuss in his check in. This has been really helpful because I can see his process throughout the day, and it allows transparency at a time that has been very difficult to have good communication anyway [and I'll assume that is normal when you are in the newborn survival-mode stage].

Things have been really good with us. I feel overall peaceful and happy.

I'm grateful for a husband who respects my boundaries and is trying to be in recovery. He has been making great progress. In fact, I've seen him making progress towards recovery in a situation where he would normally fall back into the addictive behaviors. That is HUGE. He wrote this blog post today, and as I read it, my heart was full. I love seeing his processing, and I love seeing him take steps towards recovery that are HIS steps, not things I have asked him to do. I love being surprised by discovering he is doing something new for his recovery. In that past, I've had to kick him into recovery. Now, his recovery is very much his own.

Even if he weren't respectful of my boundaries, I'm grateful for the things I have learned on this journey. I am strong enough to set boundaries and hold to them. That is huge too. By asking him to email me a check-in every night, it has eased a lot of my anxiety and triggers because I know he isn't hiding anything. That's what boundaries are for. To bring us peace and keep us safe.

Here's too hoping for the best on the rest of his trip!

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

My Secret Life

Even though I've known about the addiction for 2.5 years, it's still hard for me to digest. Sometimes I go back and think about things as they once were (or as I thought they were) and I just miss it. I miss the mornings that we didn't get out of bed for hours because we just wanted to be together. I miss the feelings of bliss. I miss the innocent joy. Didn't we all get married with some different fairy tale than what we got in mind?

It's not like we are doing horribly or that our lives are awful. They aren't. We're actually doing pretty well, all things considered. Plus, he is 33 days sober! Don't let that fool you, though. One thing I've learned is that the length of sobriety time does not determine my happiness. If I'm still grieving or depressed or whatever, I'm still there. I have to work through it and come to terms with things on my own time. So, even with that awesome sobriety (great job, Ben!), we are still facing consequences of the addiction. And that is okay. It's just sad too.

I'm stuck in the grief cycle. I don't really know where I am. It changes from day to day, and it all fluctuates between denial, anger, and depression. And, I know it to be possible to experience all three of those in the same day. When that happens, well, we'll just call it one heck of a day.

I actually wonder why I'm still in denial (or maybe it's not that I'm still in denial, but I am again. There have been times when I felt like I accepted things. But then more addiction happens and I sometimes hit denial again). I mean, HELLOOOOOO, do I need to repeat what I said in my first sentence? I've known about the addiction for 2.5 YEARS. That should be long enough to come to terms and accept that this is my life. Except for the fact that I haven't finished grieving what I thought we had--what I thought we had many times and then discovered lies. And I'm still grieving what might or might not be. I'm grieving the changes that have happened that cause me to fear the future (a little bit). I still can't believe this is happening to ME, to US. The marriage that I worked so hard for is not what I thought it was. My plan is on the floor around me, broken.

I'm learning to not rely on plans. I'm learning to just live, and that's how I'm able to face all of this head on. Well, that is through the grace of God. I'm definitely not doing this on my own.

I realized I'm still in denial and trying too hard to fight depression last night. Last night I did a couples satisfaction survey on ADDO. Apparently, I am currently dissatisfied with my marriage. The results of that survey came partially as a shock (because I was in denial of how messy and dissatisfied I feel), and partially as a relief--like a deep breath of truth and honesty with myself. I'm dissatisfied. That's okay. We are working. He is working on recovery. Things can get better. If I said I was satisfied, I would be lying to myself. That's what I've been doing. So, now, I'm just trying to embrace.

I hate denial. I hate anger. I hate depression. I'm glad I'm facing them head on, and I'm really trying not to shove these feelings off. I'm trying to pick myself up every day and get a move on.

Okay, enough rambling. Here is the main thing I want you to get from this post. Ready?

If you are suffering because someone you love has an addiction (any addiction), and you are in silence, stop the silence. Now. Open up to someone. Let it out. Cry to someone you trust to not be judgmental of the situation.

Allow yourself to feel. Step out of denial.

Maybe this is just me, but I feel like I have been in denial for too long. I think that is because I have kept this part of my life a big secret for so long. Because, seriously, how hard is it to accept something when that part of your life is a complete secret from the rest of the world? I didn't tell anyone. For a long time. When I did finally tell someone, I rarely brought it up after that.

And now? Now, I have a circle of support. I have friends I can talk to. I have friends who I can cry to, who won't judge me or my husband. I'm allowing myself to live in this mess, and I'm starting to be okay with it. I'm not quite yet in the acceptance part of the grief cycle. I'm still fighting it. I don't do change well. And I don't want this to be happening. But I'll get there one day. I'll accept it better. That's what I'm working on right now.

If you don't know who you can talk to, talk to me. I'd love to get to know you :)

Memories

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I was flooded with memories this weekend—things I had shoved back over the past few years. These memories are all related to my betrayal trauma, and it actually felt good to remember. It felt good because I was embracing, not shoving away. It was validating, and facing these memories was an important step to helping me heal. I was reminded that the things I am feeling right now are natural consequences of the trauma I have experienced.

I remember feeling crazy—literally insane—during the months after the car accident, which happened three weeks after we were married. I had back and neck injuries. I probably had post-traumatic stress disorder. Because of the physical and emotional injuries I suffered, it was hard for me to be intimate. It was hard for me to open up to him because I felt like he didn’t truly care. Something was off. It seemed like he was frustrated with me constantly, which made me feel all the more crazy. I felt pressured into sex because he needed it. I gave in, despite the pain in my back. We had problems. We had just gotten married, and we had some serious issues. It scared me, and I took all the blame. I thought I was a terrible wife. I thought all of our problems were my fault.

I remember the pain I felt when he told me about his addiction. I felt betrayed because, well, that is the natural consequence of discovering your husband watches disgusting things and looks at disgusting pictures. I felt betrayed because that is the natural consequence a woman would feel upon learning her husband had sexual fantasies about other women. But I also felt betrayed because of all the time I thought I was crazy, when in fact, he was the one with the problem.

I remember the blame I felt when he told me about his addiction. I thought I drove him to it because I couldn’t be intimate after the car accident. I felt like all of my crazy had taken its toll, and he was just done with me. I felt blame because the car accident was, in a way, my fault. If I hadn’t driven down that road at that time, the lady wouldn’t have hit me. She would have run the stop sign and hit no one because I wouldn’t have been there. It wasn’t a road I normally drove down. I went a back way home from where I was coming from that morning. So, naturally, everything was my fault.

I remember him telling me about the “porn problem” and thinking it was an addiction. I remember doing research, but to no avail. I remember finding out about the 12-step meetings and wanting to go, but he told me no. He told me he could conquer it: after all, he had conquered it before. I remember feeling so much trauma that I didn’t know I could disagree. I thought I had to do everything he said to save my marriage.

I remember considering divorce. We had only been married six months.

I remember the lies.

I remember the hurt.

I remember the forgiveness. Then more lies. More hurt.

I remember the times I wanted to trust. I even put myself out there, only to have the trust broken. Again. And again.

I remember feeling alone and not understanding why I couldn’t tell people. I remember being frustrated because my bishop even told me that if my husband didn’t want me to tell, I shouldn’t because it is deeply personal and could cause more problems in our relationship. This is something most people don’t talk about openly, and if my husband didn’t feel comfortable with it, it needed to stay between us. I didn’t want more damage to our relationship, so of course I kept it hidden between us.

I also remember my bishop basically just giving him a pat on the back because “he had confessed” and that was a good start. It didn’t seem right, but he was the bishop, so I went along with it.

I remember feeling like a babysitter, using filters and passwords to keep him clean. I didn’t think that was my responsibility, but, as my bishop pointed out, taking it away was the first step to him being clean. Not that he didn’t find it in other places anyway…

I remember broken promises.

I remember getting rid of movies, but not being able to explain to friends and family why we couldn’t watch certain things.

I remember moving into a new ward. When we told our new bishop about the problem or addiction or whatever we called it at that time, he let me know it was not my fault. He let me know it had nothing to do with me. He let my husband know it was sinful and wrong. He let my husband know he was not fulfilling his duty as my husband or keeping his covenants. It was a very different change in counsel, and it made for a great change in our lives.

I remember when we moved to our current ward, and our bishop told us he had hope for us. We came in to our first meeting with him holding hands, and he said that meant we had something that could make it through the damage that had been done.

So much damage has been done. I’m finally realizing that it is totally, 100%, okay for me to withdraw. It’s okay for me to need my time. It’s okay for me not to trust. It’s okay for me to be impatient and emotional. It’s okay for me to feel betrayed. It’s okay for me to open up. It’s okay for me to cry. It’s okay for me to live in the present.

It’s also okay for me to love and trust. It’s okay to have hope that we will be healed. I have hope that my love will one day be perfect. I have hope that I will trust again.

The journey has been long and painful. But I wouldn’t change this for the world. We are learning and growing, and our marriage will be more precious later on because of this trial, the beautiful heartbreak.

PS, I have good memories too. My favorite is the look I see in his eyes when he really sees me and his heart is full of tender love. Just thinking about that look makes my heart skip a beat. My other favorite is the times he has broken out of his comfort zone to dance with me and be a goober. 

General Conference Takeaway #1: I Can Love

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While unpacking tonight, I found some old journals. One was from when Jack and I were dating. I found some important entries that I knew he wanted to read (long story there). They were about the decision to marry him. I had always kept this from him because I felt the decision and process I took to decide to marry him was deeply spiritual and personal. So much so, that I didn't want him to read about it in my journals. However, for some reason, that didn't matter tonight.

I passed my journal over to him to let him read, and he got uncomfortably quiet. I didn't proof-read first, so I wasn't sure if he had read something offensive (our relationship at the time was rocky...and I was deciding whether or not to marry him or another guy). The thing that got him, though, was a statement at the end of an entry describing why he was perfect: "No red flags." It made him depressed because it reminded him of how much I had trusted him and how much that trust had been broken by something that would have been nice to see red flags for.

I did think he was perfect when we were dating. I know now he was too perfect, but at the time, I had specific things I was looking for in my future spouse. He did a very good job at keeping the addiction from me, and he filled everything I wanted. Like I said, deciding to marry him was deeply spiritual. I included God very much in that decision, and I knew it was right.

Sometimes, that inclusion of God and knowing marrying Jack was the right decision haunts me. It haunts me when I get depressed about how the addiction has the power to destroy what we have. It makes me ask God why? Why me? Why should we be together? Why would this be in the plan for me?

Now, keep in mind that I am deeply grateful for the growth we have experienced. I really and truly am. But, you know, sometimes it's just hard. And I have the right to question. It's good for the soul. Haha.

Anyway, President Eyring said something in his General Conference talk this morning that answered that question perfectly. For those of you who are not LDS, every six months, the authorities of our church speak in a conference over the weekend. There are five two-hour sessions. It's beautiful. No other words describe it other than beautiful and sacred. I LOVE General Conference. This one was especially good and gave me some direct inspiration and answers I've been seeking.

President Eyring told this story about a grandma going to visit her grandson in jail. On the way, she was praying and asked God why, after everything she had done to live a good life, He would give her this grandson who ruined his own life and caused her so much pain. The answer that came to her was, "I gave him to you because I knew you could and would love him no matter what he did."

That statement completely resonated with me. It rang in my heart and pierced my soul. I knew, in that instant, that even though the story was different, God was speaking to me. He wanted me to marry Jack because he knew that I could handle this. He knew I could and would love him. No matter what.

That's the first time I've heard/felt it put like that. Whenever I've wondered why I'm with him, why God wanted me to be with him, I've always had a similar feeling. But that feeling was more along the lines of me being special and being the best person to help him overcome his addiction, repent, and fulfill his divine potential as a son of God. This is the first time I've felt/heard it said that the reason was my ability to love him.

I do love him. I love him on a very deep level, which is why the addiction is so painful. Sometimes, I feel like I don't love him on the surface, when I'm struggling, but there is always that deep love that lies beneath. And I'm always dedicated to helping him. I mean, that's why I do the things I do. That's why I try to enforce certain boundaries and why I am blunt at times and have high expectations for him.

I can love him. I do love him.

Now, that doesn't mean that our marriage isn't at risk. It is. There is still the possibility that at some point down the road, he will have majorly crossed a line, and our marriage will be over. BUT this gives me hope. It gives me a little bit more courage and strength to know that God wants me to keep loving. At least for right now.


AND... I'm excited for the Togetherness Project!

Bring on September

This week has been hard. 

We'd planned on going to the temple today all month, and I faced some serious opposition leading up to today. Even this morning. Man, I've just been so overwhelmed with everything happening in my life that I started shutting down this week. It's literally been self-administered pep talks every day. I'm doing my best, but I've still been very discouraged. I've tried to give it to God, but that's been hard too. 

I've been MEAN this week. So many little things have gotten to me. I've restrained a lot (despite what some people close to me may think), and I know I've just been awful with some of what I did let loose. 

Today I went to the temple. I was blessed during the week to recognize Satan's attempts for me not to go, and I wasn't stopped by Him. I'm so glad I went to the temple because I got a lot of insight that I totally needed. 

During my session, I reflected back on this week trying to figure out what the real problem was. The real problem was not insurance (we had a few minor issues that I got rageful about). It wasn't him forgetting to close my water bottle after filling it up for me. It wasn't him giving me an anniversary gift early--despite my protestations. Nor was it him missing my school's pride night (although that was a big deal for me. But in the end it wasn't quite his fault). See how minor those things are? I see it. That's why I have been concerned and getting down on myself. 

The real problem comes down to the addiction. I've been in denial about how much I'm hurting from the last few weeks. In fact, I tend to be in denial about my pain a lot because I try so hard to not be codependent that I try to blame my issues on other things. Usually the small, meaningless stuff. 

I realized that I'm hurting. I actually think I haven't fully forgiven him for this one yet. It also hurts because I felt so unsafe that I couldn't bring myself to physical intimacy during my fertile time. That hurt. We couldn't even try this month because of my pain. Infertility is painful. Here's to another month, and this month it's because of choice. Sigh. 

On a brighter note, I also realized in the temple that I haven't given myself me time. I need to. I really need to. 

I also felt God's love wash over me as He  told me, "You made it. You made it to the temple. I knew you would come." 

The last big thing from the temple was the lesson I learned about waiting on the Lord. I've never caught that like I did today. From that, I feel more hope and strength for endurance. I can keep going. Even if I don't think He is there, He is. And He sees all. He has a plan for me that is much better than I could come up with. 

And on that note, bring on September! **fist pump!**

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.

Credit

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.

Grace, Light, Love--Gifts from the Love Dare

Credit

It's been a while since I wrote a post just about the Love Dare. I've had a lot of things I want to share about the Love Dare forming in my mind, but I either haven't had time, or I've had other little things come up that I felt were more important on certain days. Today, I am writing about the Love Dare! I've done some reflection and introspection in my personal journals, but I'm excited to finally think and reflect in more depth, and I'm especially excited to share my learning and findings thus far with y'all!

I'm on day 32 of the Dare. If you look back at the date that I started, you will notice that it has been more than 40 days. The reason is because the Love Dare is hefty. I've had days where I physically could not do it. Some days were because of time issues--I didn't have time to study it out and make a real, dedicated effort to living the Dare. More than those types of days, however, were days that my wife-of-an-addict mind just couldn't muster up the love to attack the dare for the day. Some days, I felt like a failure because of that. I felt like a failure as a wife and as a lover because I couldn't gather enough love to do simple things like forgive, not be negative, fight fair, and the likes. Some days I felt like a failure because I forgot about the dare for the day, so I would have to re-do it the next day.  It's been a tough road to walk. But it's also been an amazingly beautiful road.

If you remember (or if you are new to this blog and haven't read my original Love Dare post), I started the Love Dare as what I feel was personal revelation, an answer to a prayer, about how to make "Restitution and Reconciliation" for the wrongs I have committed in our relationship. Even though I'm on step 9 and have made light-years of progress in my WoPA recovery, I still wrong him. That was evident as I went through my inventory, confession, humbling, and seeking forgiveness steps. I'm not perfect. I do things that bring us both down. Sometimes I'm really impatient, which is sometimes very damaging in our relationship. My worst attribute, though, is my selfishness. I've become very selfish as I've basically come to expect him to cater to my every need because of his selfishness. Over times, I've created expectations for him to make up for what he has done. I realized it's really not fair to him. Maybe if he had physically cheated on me rather than lustfully cheating on me, or maybe if he was not in working recovery, I would feel justified in my selfishness and make him my slave (does anyone else feel like doing that? maybe it's just me). However, he has done neither of those things. He is an addict in working recovery. He is my best friend. I chose him. It's been a rough road, but I chose to stay with him. And, through some soul-searching and recognizing those choices I've made and the choices I have in front of me, I realized that I really needed to step up my game.

Even though our move out of Utah has been really amazing for both of our recoveries and our relationship and healing as a couple, we still have trials and hard things that take a toll on our marriage relationship. We are living with my parents, which has an impact on our relationship. We are having problems getting pregnant, which is a huge trial that has an impact on our emotional and physical relationships. I have physical health issues, which is another big trial that carries emotional baggage. And then there is the addiction. Sometimes, I find myself closing off from everyone around me. I feel like alone will somehow make me safe (but, I have been clinging more to God and Christ through it all, so that's good). Despite our growth, I found myself withdrawing from everyone around me, while feeling depressed that I wasn't feeling any love from anyone. The worst part was when I thought to myself, "I don't know if I love Jack anymore."

When I got to step 9, the relationship I felt like needed the most healing was my relationship with Jack. I had been very selfish. I had done and said lots of things he didn't deserve. And I also knew that my loss-of-love feelings were more because of me than him. So, he became my target for restitution and reconciliation. I didn't know where to begin. The things I needed to work on were things I had already been working on as character weaknesses in the previous steps. I felt at such a loss as to where to turn for this.

The answer to my prayers was to do the Love Dare, and it was the perfect answer for me.

Hard days in the dare are to be expected when you are trying to increase the love for someone who has hurt you so badly. When I was faced with my first really hard day, I had to turn it over to God and ask for His strength to keep on going. He has given me that strength every time I've asked for it (or given me the feeling of peace that it's okay to just not do the dare for the day and try to do it tomorrow instead). At first, the whole thing was really exciting and I felt a dramatic increase of happiness in myself and my relationship with Jack. But then things started feeling old and tired because I felt like I was making all this effort and he wasn't, and it just wasn't fair. Those were kind of hard feelings to sort through, and it really helped when I got to the dare day about unconditional love.

One day that was really hard was asking him three things that make him irritated with me, without being defensive, and trying to work on making those things better. I didn't enjoy hearing that things irritate him about me (even though I knew there would be things, and the things were exactly what I predicted he would say)! I want to be the perfect spouse and let him be the irritating one! It helped me see that I do need to care about his feelings and do what I can to make things better for us.

The Dare has taught me a lot. I learned a lot about myself, such as why I get irritable. People usually get irritable for two reasons: stress and selfishness. When I thought about it, I realized that, yes, those are the main reasons I get irritable. I made a list of stressors, and that helped me recognize and get over the things that irritated me that day (the dare that day was to react to tough circumstances in loving ways rather than irritable ways).

I learned to cherish him and delight in our relationship more.

I learned that it's okay if he wins or I don't get my way all the time.

We set rules for "fighting fair." Sometimes we forget those rules, but they have been helpful.

I learned to honor him and treat our relationship as more holy.

I've learned to pray for him and us more.

I've learned to choose to love.

I've learned to be more forgiving and patient.

I've learned to live by encouragement, rather than expectations. And I've learned that where Jack doesn't meet my expectations, God can make up the difference.

I've learned to sacrifice more.

I've learned that my motivation to love comes from God and that I really can only love if I have His love in my heart.

I've learned to cleave to Jack more.

I've learned and understood the holiness of sexual needs and intimacy in marriage. I've learned to balance that aspect of our marriage better.

In reflecting back on the whole thing so far, I realized that the spiritual aspect is the part I actually have down pretty well. Of course, I'm learning new things and gaining new perspectives. But, what I struggled with most were the beginning steps: things like not being negative and going out of my way to be kind and do simple acts of kindness to show love and appreciation. Maybe the more recent dares have been easier because they are building off one another, but I do keep finding that it's those little simple things that I don't do very well and need to improve on. Those little things are what help soften both of our hearts.

One thing that has been amazing is the softening of both of our hearts. He has seen and recognized what I'm doing. It's making him more joyful, and over time, he has started acting and speaking with more love too. We have much better communication. We are both more humble and patient with one another. We both listen to each other better. And we both want to be around each other more. The Love Dare has done exactly what I needed: increased our love.

Another thing that has been amazing is how I have seen parallels between the Love Dare and what I've learned through the 12 steps and other things I have studied to increase my healing and relationship with Christ  The things I've strengthened are the character weaknesses I've been working on. It's just been a new perspective and fresh learning.

I know that this wouldn't work for everyone. I definitely couldn't have done this a year ago because of where I was in my recovery. It would have been way too hard. It was really good for me right now, though. The Lord knew it was what I needed. I'm grateful for my relationship with Him and the ability we have to receive revelation for ourselves.

Together!

If you haven't read about the Togetherness Project, read about it here.

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!

I don't understand, and that is okay

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.

Learning from the Dare

There have been a few times that I've been tempted to quit the Love Dare. The main thing that keeps me going is the fact that I felt inspired to do this, and I know that God wants me to do it for a reason. 

The thing that makes it so hard is how selfless you are supposed to be. I've never thought of myself as that selfish of a person, but I have felt selfish as I've done this Dare (even though much of the selfless acts come naturally to me). I thought a lot about that yesterday, and I think I figured out my main issues with the Love Dare. Knowing these issues really helped me yesterday, and I think I can move forward more peacefully.

I am the wife of a sex-addict. I've experienced a lot of hurt. I've experienced my fair share of selflessness. The reasons I'm selfish are mainly for emotional protection. If I'm not selfish, if I give of myself too much, I risk being trampled on and hurt even more. I'm almost always on guard because of an inner self-protection. I've lived emotionally on guard for the past three and a half years (before we were married for different reasons that are a whole separate story). Things were only calm for three weeks between the wedding and my car accident. Then, the emotional trauma got worse from my brain injury and other results of the accident. Our relationship hit a bad spot with our lack of intimacy due to my  injuries and his turning to porn and masturbation during that time. When I first learned of his addiction, my self-protection kicked in even more, and I've been on an emotional roller coaster ever since.

I've been hurt badly. The reasons I'm selfish are for my sanity or because of a developed reaction to things. Looking at it all, it's no wonder that it's so hard to give up selfish and become selfless. It feels physically painful at times to make that change. I've had my days during the past week of the Love Dare where I have wondered if he even realizes how much I am giving of myself and if he will notice and follow my example and do something nice for me (selfish, but we all enjoy being served and feeling appreciated). When you are already hurting, it's incredibly hard to only think of the other's well-being and ignore your selfish wants or needs.

I decided that in this book, some things are a little extreme. Or maybe I'm just reading into it way too much. Either way, I've made some realizations and changes as I've gone through the Dare that help me do it better.

I'm not ignoring my wants or needs. I can't be so selfless that I forget to take care of myself. I don't think that's healthy. We all have needs. We all have wants that feel like needs. We all experience emotion. It's not healthy to push those off and ignore them. At least, it's not healthy for me. When I am pushing things away to just focus on Jack (or anyone else), I experience some major anxiety, stress, and overwhelmedness (I just made that word up). I physically can't just not let my needs be met. I can't. Or else I turn into Monsterwoman. I like to serve, and I like being selfless and turning to Christ's way, but I can't ignore what I feel. I have to be validated. I have to let myself feel. It's just a matter of what I do with those feelings--if I handle them appropriately or not.

Through all of these dares (love is patient, love is kind, love is not selfish, love is thoughtful, love is not rude, love is not irritable, love believes the best), I've been able to reflect a lot on things and learn about myself. The things I do that harm our relationship the most are 1) my tone of voice or how I talk to him when I am hurting, and 2) my actions when I am hurting.

Just because I'm hurting doesn't give me the right to lash out and do or say things to drag him down with me. Besides, he's already down. He's already wounded. He's already seeking healing and trying to overcome the devil, so why should I make it worse?

As I have sought to be less negative and angry, more patient and loving, more selfless and caring, and less rude and irritable, I've found more positive and constructive outlets for me and my relationship with him.

On the days I couldn't say anything negative, I had to leave the conversation for a time, pray, and really turn it over to God so I could come back. When I came back, I was able to address the problem in a more constructive and positive way--with communication that didn't just make him shut down.

On the day I focused on selflessness, I did something that really made him happy, and it made me happy.

Yesterday was "love is not irritable." This was the best self-reflective day for me. The chapter broke down reasons why people are irritable. As I pondered the chapter and Bible verses, I realized that the main reasons I do lash out or get irritable really easily (such as when the noises his throat makes when he eats really annoy me and other stupid stuff like that) are from STRESS.

About a year ago, I made a list of stressors because I realized that my stress was playing a huge role in our relationship and my ability to cope with things. I put that list on my nightstand and looked at it every day to remind myself that those things were stressing me out. It sounds weird, but it put things into perspective for me to see that those were my stressors and that most of the things that made me mad in our relationship were really because of a build-up of stress. I worked on balance and peace. Those were topics I studied a lot in my scripture study, and I was able to be okay.

Yesterday, I made a new list. My stress list is 15 ITEMS LONG. 15! Those aren't even little things. Those are HUGE things that really have an impact on my sanity and peace. No wonder I feel like I'm falling apart at the seams sometimes.

I was able to take that list and ponder the Atonement. I prayed and gained strength. I thought about where I can add margin and breathing space. I prioritized. Throughout the day, whenever I got irritated, I reminded myself that my stress level is causing negative reactions and that I'm working on balance and being positive.

At dinner, something happened between Jack and me that really made me mad. After just a few minutes of trying to deal with it there, I just got up, threw my dinner plate in the sink, and stormed off to our room. While I laid on the bed fuming, I thought. I thought about my stressors. I thought about the decision I had made that morning to turn everything over to God. I felt stubborn pride and unwillingness to turn the issue over. Eventually, I prayed. I cried and told God how silly I felt, and I told Him that I desperately needed His help so I could quickly forgive and our night wouldn't be ruined. I felt peace. I forgave. And then I came out, we talked calmly about what had just happened. I calmly and peaceably explained why it had hurt me. He sincerely apologized (which was nice. Also, he did all the dishes while I was mad, which was also nice), and then we ate cookies and ice cream, played games, and watched Sherlock on Netflix. By the end of the night, the love was back. And it was strong.

I am really glad I'm doing this Dare even though it's hard at times. It's teaching me a lot about love and a lot about myself. I'm learning how to allow myself to balance feeling emotion and acting positively and constructively. I'm learning how to strengthen some of my weaknesses. I'm learning to turn myself over to God more often. I'm learning better communication. I'm learning the ins and outs of myself, and I feel like I'm starting to become the me I want to be. And I have more hope.

Let's Get Those Work Boots On

"Before our recovery, our addictive [insert angry or other weaknesses/sufferings as a result of your loved one's addiction] lifestyles were like a tornado full of destructive energy that cut through our relationships, leaving much wreckage behind" (Step 8).

Credit

Anger is what I have struggled with the most as a result of my husband's addiction. I have also suffered from anxiety and depression, but those both lead to anger too. 

My anger, left unchecked, has harmed relationships and could potentially destroy relationships. I'm not even just talking about my relationship with my husband. I have been so angry at everything that I take it out on innocent bystanders. My mom doesn't know what is going on, but I have taken out my anger on her when she does things that get on my nerves. I really try not to, but it happens. The same thing happens with one of my sisters. And with a handful of other people. When I'm already mad, little annoying habits from everyone get to me, and I take my anger/irritation out on them too. At least it's not happened to them at full force like it has with my husband...

In the couple of years since I originally found out about his addiction and started my own healing and recovery process, I have grown tremendously. I've learned that I have blamed my husband for my character weaknesses when he is really not to blame. My weaknesses are my weaknesses, and they always have been. Maybe the situation has made me feel like I am seeing my weaknesses through a magnifying glass, but they have always been there, and they have always been mine.

Once upon a time, I blamed it all on him. He was the addict, and I was perfect. Everything was his fault. Now, I can see that this situation in my life has been a gift from God to help me see my weaknesses and choose to make them stronger.Or choose to do nothing.

I don't have to make my weaknesses stronger. But I want to. 

A few months ago, I wrote a post about who I want to be. I want to make myself stronger because I have a goal in mind as to who I want to become. At that point in my life, I saw potential. I knew who I could become. I saw that girl inside my, dying to come out. Today, I see even more potential. I've grown so much more in the past few months since I wrote that. I have so much I want to be. I have so much I want to do.  I can't do or become anything without making my weaknesses stronger. 

I can't be a disciple of Christ if I don't lean on Him and try to emulate his character. 

I can't be a giver if I remain selfish.

I can't be a lover of life if I stay mad at the world. 

I can't jump at every opportunity, take chances, or have no fear if I am constantly battling anxiety and letting that anxiety keep me from taking opportunities. 

I can't be head over heels in love if I refuse to forgive, hold grudges, and keep bringing up past mistakes.

I've accomplished a lot already. We all have. All of us, you reading this, you have accomplished a lot. Whatever your struggles are or have been, you've made it through. Or you're making it through.

I'm ready to take the next step. Are you?

I have already turned to the Lord to help me get my life back in order.

I have believed that the power of God can restore me to complete spiritual health. That belief has grown to a knowledge of His power. I know He can restore me to complete spiritual health. If I let Him.

I have already made the decision to turn my life over to the care of God.

I have fearlessly inventoried my life. I have pinpointed the good and the bad. I made made a commitment to become better.

I have confessed what has needed to be confessed.

I have turned my life and will over to God. I have become ready for Him to remove my weaknesses.

I have humbly asked Him for help removing those weaknesses.

The next step I will take is to seek forgiveness. I need to become willing to make restitution to all persons I have harmed. I will prayerfully seek out the Lord's help in making restitution.

Before my recovery (and during),  my angry lifestyle was (has been) like a tornado full of destructive energy that cut through many relationships. It has left a lot of wreckage behind. It's time for me to clean up what I can. 

As I seek forgiveness, I will continue to recognize and ask God to remove my weaknesses. As I make my weaknesses stronger (such as impatience, easy irritation, anger, etc), I will be more likely to control myself rather than lashing out and hurting others, thus lessening the impact of the angry tornado in the future.

I'm really not a horrible person. I'm just really hard on myself sometimes, especially lately. I know I will need to forgive myself too and lighten up. It comes and goes. Haha.

Whelp, let's get those work boots on (please read in the best Southern drawl your brain can come up with :)). 

Reflections on the road to recovery

We are approaching Step 7: Humility

The key principle is, “Humbly ask Heavenly Father to remove your shortcomings.”

All of the steps require humility in some form, but in step 7, humility is the primary focus. I am so excited for this step!

First, I want to reflect on the journey. So far, we have admitted that we are powerless to heal on our own (or overcome our own forms of addiction—co-dependency, anger, anxiety, depression, etc). We have believed that the power of God can restore us to complete spiritual health. We have made the decision to turn our will and life over to Heavenly Father. We fearlessly made an inventory of ourselves. We have confessed our sins to a trusted person. And we experienced a change of heart and become ready to ask God to remove our weaknesses.

We have come a long way.

If this is your first time through the 12 steps, think of how you felt at the very beginning. If you were like me, your heart might have been completely filled with anger (with a little room to breathe?). You might have experienced so much rage that you forgot what it felt like to feel trust and peace. You might have been in so much pain that you contemplated leaving your loved one with the addiction, or you might have contemplated suicide. Do you still feel that now? I’m sure you do—but in phases. I do. It comes and goes as a cycle. And over time, and through healing, the cycle has had less negative and way more positive. Overall, I am happy. I feel peace. I feel joy. I feel love. Yes, this is my second time through the steps, but even during round one, by the time I had reached the halfway mark through the 12 steps, I was on a spiritual high (if you aren’t, don’t be afraid. Healing comes at different speeds and in different ways for everybody. Keep pushing forward with faith and trusting God. I promise, healing will come). I no longer blame my husband for everything bad that happens to me (I still do sometimes—but it’s a habit I am trying to break). I no longer break down or wallow in self-pity when my husband tells me he masturbated or viewed pornography. Rather, I feel pain for him. My primary concern is for my husband, not for myself. Whoa.

I have come a long way.

Two years ago, I was considering ending my marriage because I felt lied to and tricked. We even decided before we were married that divorce would never be an option, which made me feel worse for considering it. That also made the pain of feeling tricked worse because I felt like maybe he wanted us to make that arrangement because he knew I would have reason to want to leave him.

Now, I don’t consider ending my marriage. Even if it gets really bad again (which I hope it won’t, but really, who knows), I am dedicated to making it work. Even when I go to the temple alone. Even though I have to keep secrets from everyone I know and love. I love my husband more than the trials that come because of his addiction. Until he is ready for people to know this is one of our trials, I am okay keeping it to myself. I do hope that one day (soon? kind of?), he will feel comfortable enough to say, “Yeah, I struggle with this. But I am trying to heal.” He could be a great strength to people, I just know it.

At this point down our road to recovery, I would like to share with you a few of the big things I have learned. And, if anyone would like to add to this list, email me, and I will post it J

      1.  Addicts can change. So often, I hear really judgmental statements about addicts or former addicts. It breaks my heart when I hear such negative things. Yeah, some people don’t change. Some people may not be willing to change, but everyone can change. And we really don’t know what is in an addict’s heart. My husband is having a hard time letting completely go of his addiction, and he still messes up, but have I completely let go of my addictions? Have I completely let go of my anger? Am I perfect? No. So, I feel that my job is to be compassionate and loving. Supportive and encouraging. I don’t condone his behavior, but I also try not to judge him. I try to listen and love. Really, through my recovery process, I have found myself trying to be more like the Savior. “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone” (John 8:7).

      2. My husband’s addiction is not a reflection of how poorly I fulfill him. I am not at fault for his actions regarding his sexual addiction. I think many people with a loved one who struggles with addiction blame themselves for whatever reason, but we are not to blame. It is something that the addict has struggled with for a long time, and it is way beyond us. So, if you are struggling with the self-blame game, turn it over to God. Let the Savior take that pain from you.

      3. The addict already has a Savior. I don’t need to try to be his savior. I do need to bear my testimony of the Savior and help my husband see the light when he is clouded in darkness. But, it’s not my responsibility to carry his pain. The Savior can help me with that.

      4. The Savior can change me. 

So, like I said, we are approaching step 7, which is humility. Are you ready? I am (next post).