Reflections

It's crazy to think about where I was a year ago versus now.

A year ago, I was not sure I had the hope or the love that could help make our marriage work. I was contemplating separation with the possibility of divorce. I was in so much pain that I was starting to lose hope in my ability to be healed.

I had no idea what 2014 would bring us.

Last year was so incredibly healing. I found strength and courage. I found hope and light. And while many things happened that took me back to dark places, I've relied more on my Savior and found resiliency through Him. I did hard things, brave things, that showed me I can do anything.

I'm not really big on new year resolutions or new beginnings. I believe we should be setting goals and beginning again every day. However, I am grateful to be able to reflect on the past year and see the growth and changes that have taken place.

I can't really say this year will be so much better or that anything will really be that different. But I can say I look forward to the changes that can take place for the better. That's not because it's a new year, but it's because we have been striving to make changes for a long time, and it our reflections and check-ins together happen frequently.

A lot of bad happened last year. But so did a lot of good. I am grateful for both the bad and the good because I can see me emerging. I am finding myself again. I am being shaped by my experiences, and I am trying to be better with each thing that comes my way.

I have no idea what 2015 will bring us. But I know both hard and great things will happen because that is life. I pray that I can take the opportunities one at a time and grow better with each one, no matter how hard or debilitating they seem. If I can do that, 2015 will be a success no matter what.

Oh Lord, how many times?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm never alone.

I'm never alone.

I'm never alone.

I can't do this alone.

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

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

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

There is an End

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just Keep Swimming

I'm moving tomorrow.
I don't currently have a fitness center or gym in TX where I know I can go swim.
I HAVE to swim. I have too many physical issues to do any other type of exercise consistently. So swimming is where it's at for me.

This morning, I went to my fitness center for one last swim. I don't know when I will get to swim again (hopefully soon, but I honestly don't know. We may not be able to pay for a gym right now). As I got into the water and swam a few strokes, I thought, I'm going to swim a mile today.

The last time I swam a mile was last summer. Since school started, I haven't been able to exercise consistently, although I have been fairly consistent over the past month. Usually I swim 15-20 laps. A mile is 33. But both my body and my brain were feeling a mile this morning, so during my first lap, I allowed myself to commit to one whole mile.

Ouch.

By the third lap, I was seriously questioning myself. I'm only on the third lap, I thought. I don't have to do a mile. I can change my mind. But then I thought if I changed my mind, after committing to one mile, I would be a chicken and a failure. I really wanted to swim a mile. But I was afraid.

I'm really good at chickening out of things lately. I've been in so much pain that I always fear anything else might push me over the edge. When my arms started burning (thanks to my Jillian Michaels workout I did yesterday) during my third lap, I wanted to recommit to just 15 laps. But I told myself no. I put myself in a rhythm and focused on my form. I focused on my strokes, my breathing, and the way my body was turning. My goggles fogged up, and I didn't even stop to un-fog them. I just kept swimming, focusing, and breathing.

I started out with a rhythm of four freestyle laps followed by one breaststroke. I figured by breaking it up into sets of five laps, my body would be able to rhythmically glide through my 33 laps. After 10 laps, however, I kind of wanted to die. So, I changed the plan and swam with my usual rhythm of two free followed by one breaststroke (sets of 3). It was a little different course that I had intended, but it still worked.

After 20 laps with no break, my breathing became very heavy. I could feel sweat pouring off my face into the water around me. I was so hot. And so thirsty. Get to 25 and then take a break. After 25 you can refuel and continue on. 

By lap 22, I felt like I was swimming in mud. My arms were on fire, and I could barely pull myself forward. (Note that I have never in my entire life swam 25 laps with no breaks.)

Stroke stroke stroke breathe. Stroke stroke stroke breathe.

Whenever I felt like giving up, I focused on my body movements. I focused on keeping my form perfect. I allowed myself to slow down and do it right rather than let my body get crazy and roll into a form that could hurt me (I've hurt my back and neck by allowing myself to swim with poor form).

Lap 25: break. I stopped to refuel and replenish my energy, then I continued. The final eight laps were so easy, but so hard. I kept telling myself I could do it. I imagined my best friends cheering me on around me. I did a little dance in my head, and I literally felt angels around me cheering me on.

I'm so glad I finished my mile. I did it. I DID IT!!!

The entire time I swam, I thought of the many parallels that swim had to my own life.

Sometimes I go to fast or try to fall into a rhythm that doesn't really work. When that rhythm doesn't work, I'm tempted to just give up or cut my journey short (lap 10). Instead, I need to just change what I'm doing a little bit so I have the energy I need to keep going. It's much easier to swim two free, one breaststroke than four free, one breaststroke. But in the beginning I chose the harder rhythm because I thought I could do it that way, and I wanted to be awesome. I didn't have the strength, so I needed to change course to something that I did have strength for.

Sometimes I feel like I'm swimming in mud. Sometimes life gets me so down, and everything just feels so hard that I want to quit. I want to run away and hide. I want to scream and throw tantrums. I want to break things and cry. That's the sign that I need to slow down and find a stopping point to refuel. We all need that. And each person is individual--some of us may need more time to refuel than others. Some of us may need different types of self-care than others. Even in my own life, I've seen how at different times, I may need more self-care than other times. Like now. Right now, I need self-care. I need to stop and refuel, and I am doing that by quitting my job and moving to Texas.

Even after we stop and refuel, sometimes it's still hard. But we have angels on our sides supporting us. We have friends and family cheering us on. And most importantly, we have God. I didn't have to swim a mile, but I really wanted to. God knew how important it was to me, and I know He blessed me with the ability to have the mental strength I needed to conquer that mile. I could have quit. But I saw that I was learning an important life lesson about my own strength and ability to choose my fate. And I chose to keep swimming.

I've felt many times in this horrible mess that is my life that I don't have power or control over what is going on. I have felt Satan seriously attacking me, and at times, I have felt controlled by Him. I have felt lost and alone, and I have had no desire to go on.

But I choose to go on. I choose to recognize when things are out of control. I choose to turn to God, even when the darkness is so thick that I can't seem to find Him. I choose my reactions to my husband's addiction. I choose my recovery. I choose to pray. I choose to study my scriptures. I choose to have faith. I choose to have hope. That is me choosing to focus on form. When things are really out of control, I only need to focus on the basics to get me through. I don't need anything crazy--just breathing, focusing, and the desire to go on.

There is so much power in our choices. 

Choose to keep swimming. When the going gets tough, remember that you are strong. If you don't feel strong, remember that God is strong, and He is by your side. Maybe the mud is too thick, and that's why you can't see Him. But eventually you will find your way out of that black mudhole and find Him. Focus on your form. Breathe. Replenish. Refuel.

Just keep swimming. 

An Unexpected Lesson Learned

On Thursday night I went visiting teaching. If you aren't LDS (Mormon), I'll give you a little background. If you are, feel free to skip this part.

In our church, we have a women's organization called the Relief Society. There are three purposes of this organization: 1) Increase faith and personal righteousness, 2) Strengthen families and homes, and 3) Seek out and help those in need. As part of fulfilling those purposes, we have what is called visiting teaching. To put it simply, we are assigned a companion (there is power and strength in numbers) and are asked to visit specific women in our congregation each month. As we visit these women, we focus on meeting their needs (physical, emotional, etc.) and being a spiritual strength to one another. Ideally, we become friends who really and truly care about one another. When visiting teaching is done right, it is a very fulfilling and uplifting experience on all sides and a truly inspired program.

This month I was assigned a new companion and my list of people to visit changed. I went with my companion to visit a lady who hadn't had visiting teachers come in a long time, and she also hasn't come to church in a long time. We were a little nervous to visit her, but we had an amazingly fantastic visit. I could write tons about what I learned just about the process of visiting teaching that night, but that's not what I'm writing about. I want to write about what I learned about hardships, strength, and vulnerability from this particular visit.

In this post, I will refer to my companion as Ashley and the lady we were visiting as Melissa (not their real names).

As we chatted and to get to know one another, Ashley said, "Melissa, I want to know what has been your hardest trial along with your greatest success in the past month." Melissa thought for a second, but she didn't come up with anything right away (and let's be honest, she probably felt very on the spot). Ashley asked me if I would start. I thought for a second, and then I felt the Spirit burn within my heart, and I shared a very recent story that I will summarize here:

You all know that I've had a hard time lately. Ben recently moved to TX to start his new job, and I've been back in Arkansas fulfilling my responsibilities at school (and learning about more porn, more lies, and having very uncomfortable disclosures, so...). To say it has been hard is minimal. The past month has been among the most hellish of any month since I've been married and have faced the world of porn and infidelity. I didn't go into details with Ashley and Melissa about what is going on in my marriage other than simply saying we are having a really hard time, and he has done some pretty bad things to our relationship, and I would be warranted in getting a divorce if I really wanted to right now. So with that and everything that has happened recently, I've put a lot of thought and prayer in making a HUGE decision. That decision was to resign from my teaching job. Teaching has been my dream since as long as I can remember. But because I've been so depressed this whole school year, and I've given so much time and energy to my school and my students, and because my relationship with my husband is suffering so badly (along with other stressors such as finances, medical, infertility, and so on), I feel that I have to quit right now. It's brought a lot of heartache and mourning (but as my counselor-friend pointed out just yesterday, I need to mourn this stuff and also realize that mourning is different from regret. I don't regret my decision, I'm just mourning my losses right now). Making the decision to quit and move to TX at the end of this month is one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. Telling my principal was one of the hardest things I've ever done. And I'm anticipating something even harder: telling my students. They will be heartbroken because, not to brag or anything, they love me. I'm a great teacher, and I have a way with teenagers. I love them, and they love me. So this is just really hard.

But this exhaustingly hard experience has also been my greatest strength this month. I feel strong in the process I've taken to make this decision. I feel strong in my faith in God and my ability to follow His plan and give my will over to Him. I know I'm doing the right thing for God, my future, my relationship with Ben, and my mental/emotional health. I know I need time right now, and I don't have that time while I'm giving my all to my students.

I feel strength surging through me. I know God is giving me strength and peace as I take these baby steps closer to Him. I know without a doubt I am doing the right thing even though it is scary and hard.

As I talked to these women about my hardship and strength, we all felt the Spirit very strongly in the room. As Ashley and Melissa both told their stories, I discovered something. I've already known this, but it was  very validated by the Spirit that night: Our hardest times can lead to our greatest strengths and the greatest blessings. Both Ashley and Melissa's hardest trial and greatest strength were related, just as mine were. I thought it was amazing how each one of us were thinking of two stories to share--one hard and one strengthening--and we all three ended up sharing one story that incorporated both of those elements.

It's true that our hardest times can lead to our greatest strengths and blessings. Haven't I seen that over and over? Because of this trial (the porn crap) in my life, I have gained strength I never knew was possible at my young age. I have a strong testimony of and strength in the Atonement. I have strong faith and ability to understand the Spirit and follow God's will. I'm not perfect by any means, but I know I have grown in insane amounts over the past three years. This trial has also given me great blessings, not only in my strength, but particularly in the friendships I have formed as I have sought healing. And a stronger vulnerability in my marriage. Stronger hope in my marriage. Stronger understanding of the gospel. Everything good is directly related to the bad and hard. I can't hate this experience because if I hated it or wished it away, I wouldn't have all the good I have now.

I said at the beginning of this post that my visiting teaching experience on Thursday taught me about hardships, strength, and vulnerability. Here is what I learned about vulnerability: Vulnerability is crucial. It's simple, but listen to how I learned it.

As I said, Ashley and I didn't know Melissa at all. She hadn't been to church in a long time, and she hadn't had any visiting teachers visit her in an even longer time. We started with small talk and asking the usual questions. But then Ashley boldly expressed very real things. She talked about her "pet peeves" with visiting teaching and promised Melissa that she would not be that kind of visiting teacher to her. As she talked, she said, "We are now officially friends. I'm not ever going to ask you what we can do for you when we visit you. Because we are friends, and when friends are in need, we tell each other. And when we think our friends are in need and they haven't told us, we act on it anyway." As she talked, both Melissa and I cried because of the spirit and light Ashley carried as she was vulnerable with Melissa. With that vulnerability, we all had an instant bond and an increase in trust.

The other part that taught me about vulnerability was the question Ashley asked during the "getting to know you" chatting: "Tell me about your hardest trial and your greatest strength in the past month." That opened up a very honest, vulnerable, and spiritual conversation. We got to know one another on a much deeper level than I have ever experienced on a first visiting teaching visit. I left that house feeling a bond with both Ashley and Melissa. I left feeling trust, not only in them, but in God.

I'm working on vulnerability in my marriage. It's hard because my trust has not just been broken, it's been shattered. But I'm finding as I am vulnerable with my husband, even in the smallest ways, it mends something broken in our relationship.

There is power in vulnerability. Granted, it's hard. It's so hard to be vulnerable, open, and honest when your husband has been a liar and a sneak. There are many levels of vulnerability, and it works best when both people are vulnerable with one another. Right now I'm being a surface level of vulnerability with my husband. But I know that our relationship can't grow stronger without that vulnerability. As we are both vulnerable, I feel things mending and strengthening, and it gives me hope for my marriage in the future.

This visit taught me a great lesson. Sure things are hard right now, but I am counting my blessings. And sure, sometimes I have no clue what to do with my relationship with Ben, but I have tools to use, and I'm learning the power of vulnerability. Things are good. They are hard, but they really are beautiful.

An Almost-Separation

I've been on [avoiding?] step 11 for a while.

I got to step 10. Practiced it. Wrote about it. Looked at step 11, and just could not go on. Part of me felt like I wasn't quite ready for it, and I wasn't sure why.

Well, now I know why. I was being prepared. I stayed in this funk of "daily accountability" while pondering and meditating on the idea of "personal revelation" and fully giving up my will [can you say scary?]. I've read through step 11 a few times this round, but I haven't been ready or able, or something, to write about it on here. I just couldn't. I felt something stopping me. It just didn't feel right yet.

So I've let it sit on the back burner while I studied the life of Christ in the scriptures and have been writing in my personal journal about the qualities in Him I want to emulate and become better with practicing in my life. I've studied humility and pride a little bit too. I've just been waiting for whenever my body, emotions, and spirit feel ready to hit up step 11.

And here I am. I've gone through a whirlwind of trauma, and personal revelation has carried me through.

***

This is the gist of my week: Ben's parents are in town. Ahem. We almost separated while they were here [wouldn't that have been fun?]. We didn't separate and are now working on some things in our marriage [and yes, they don't know about any of this. Crazy, huh?].

I keep writing and erasing the story of the almost-separation. But I decided if you have questions or would like some insight on the personal revelation that went into this whole thing, you can email me. It's too much, emotionally, to rehash it and try to get the wording right so you understand what I'm trying to say. Plus, it would make this post way too long, and you might get bored before I really got to the point.

This is what I'm trying to say: the ability to receive personal revelation is one of the greatest gifts God has given us. Were it not for my ability to follow the Spirit, we would be right where we were last week. I would be trying to fight the addiction and trying to figure out what we could do to actually make changes for good in our lives. I would be dealing with crap and accepting his behavior because I didn't know what else to do. I would be feeling frustrated and irritable while playing nice and acting happy when people ask me how it's goin'.

Instead, I had the courage to listen to a prompting. I addressed all the reasons why we needed a separation. I told him the things I would not be standing for in our marriage. He almost had to pack up and move back to Utah for an indefinite amount of time while he put some things in his life back in order. We were so close to a separation, you guys. So many things could have happened. It was unbearably scary.

As we (really, I, because I had the final say in the matter) tried to figure out what to do, I felt like we both needed to pray. He needed to find for himself whether or not quitting his job and moving to Utah, facing the shame of the situation to a great number of people, would be the best thing for him in regards to real recovery.

Personally, I felt like that could be a good option. It was horribly terrifying, but it had the potential to work out. He could take the time he needed to improve his relationship with God, overcome some pride, sort out some priorities, and get reset in the right direction. Or it could not work out and then I would know his heart was not truly set on recovery, which gave this plan the potential to completely destroy our marriage.

When we realized this plan would be the only option for separation (he couldn't live here if we separated. Literally the only place for him to go would be back to Utah), I instructed him to pray while I went into a separate area to also pray.

The whole day was a series of following personal revelation and relying on God. In the end, the revelation changed, but I think that was because Ben had a soft heart and some other things came into play that were game-changing. After I made the final, final decision to separate (after the late-night prayer), I also had the feeling that I needed to really listen to whatever he had to say after his prayer.

His answer to his prayer was overwhelming. He had committed to some things and great personal sacrifices that completely touched my heart. As he cried and poured out his heart, agreeing that he hadn't been trying very hard to overcome the addiction and that he had not been spending the proper time or doing the things necessary for a change of heart, he made commitments that I've longed to hear. And he did it all on his own (well, through the help of personal revelation and a softened heart). It wasn't through me pushing or nagging him to make these changes: that has never worked. It was simply through me following my prompting that we needed a separation. I was so serious, and he knew it. The very idea pushed him to evaluate what he wanted in this life and in our marriage. He could have chosen to be done with me (and don't think for a second that the idea has never crossed his mind. He has entertained the thought of leaving me to live the life of his sex-addict brain more than once). Or he could have chosen to agree with the separation and then felt too weak and depressed to make any changes, and then chose to live in addiction sin. But he didn't. He chose to follow his own promptings of the Spirit, and in that moment, I followed the prompting of the Spirit to hear him out.

As he talked, I felt complete peace and a final stamp of this is right. Let him try to keep these commitments. As he talked, I saw the picture of Christ on His knees in the Garden of Gethsemane. I had the distinct question come to mind: what would Christ do with a man begging forgiveness, promising change, and asking for another chance before cutting him out of his life, even if only temporarily? The answer was strong: Christ would give him another chance. God wanted me to give him another chance.

In the past 24 hours, I've seen a changed man. I'm still a little uncomfortable around him, and I'm still feeling awkwardness due to the trauma of everything, but I'm seeing change. And I know, because I can feel it in my heart, that it's honest change. I'm trying not to doubt what I feel in my heart, and I'm trying to trust. Satan keeps filing me with fear, that little bugger.

I have hope. Ben has made commitments, and I've made boundaries. We have a long way to go for our marriage to become what we've dreamed of, but I can see the potential of that a little clearer. I have a stronger hope.

Today I studied the section on personal revelation in my 12-step book (step 11). My spirit finally feels ready for this. The experience I had this week taught me that I can follow God and do His will. I can give up my will and do hard and scary things. I know that I have the ability to discern the Spirit. And I've learning that revelation can change when new circumstances arise. If Ben hadn't used his agency to turn to God and allow his heart to be softened, we would be separated or planning for separation.

I have a renewed longing to follow God. I know that His way is the best way. He may ask me to do hard things, and those things may seem impossible. That's because they are impossible--without the Atonement. But I can do all things when I rely on the Atonement, and I know that right now, there is hope for our marriage. When things get tough, I can rely on my Savior, and He will help get me through.

I've made a new commitment to stay close to the Spirit so I can always have the ability to receive guidance.

Things are going to be okay.

Cheers to another year together! I love him.

Sometimes I'm like Lot's Wife

There are definitely a lot of differences between me and Lot's wife. However, I watched this video today, and there were quite a few parallels that made me think.

Lately, while muddling through the storm of addiction, I can't help but look back. I look back on personal revelation given about marrying Ben and I remind myself that we are supposed to be together. I look back on what we once had, or what I thought we had until lies penetrated our marriage. I long for things as they were or as they should be in my imaginary, fairy tale life. I look back and see the progress we have made. I look back and see how little has been accomplished in the grand scheme of things.

I look back and long for change.

I yearn to go back to what once was (or should have been?).

Isn't that what Lot's wife did?

As I yearn for what once was, I am in a sort of denial about things as they are.

I have to stop looking back. I know it's only normal in my case because of the betrayal trauma, but looking back won't make changes for the future. All looking back does is make me depressed and irritable. I have to look forward to the future. I have to address what is going on now and do what I can to make changes for a better future. I have to hope for what can be and do hard things now. I'm realizing now that things have to get harder before they can even remotely get better.

Things are way different than I ever imagined they could be. There are changes I'm considering making in my life that I thought I would never consider. But it's my life. It's all a result of what is going on now, and I can't change the now. I can't change anything to be like what it was no matter how hard I try or desire to.

All I can do now is follow the Spirit and keep Christ close to my heart. As I do so, I will be led to the Lord's will. I must follow His will and not look back. If I make some of the changes I'm considering (if they indeed prove to be the Lord's will), things will get incredibly hard. If I make those changes, do I have the faith to follow the Lord and not look back yearning for a time when things were seemed easier?

I know that this trial being a part of my life is not my fault. I'm just here, and I have to make the most of it. I have choice: I can accept this as the plan and use the circumstances to better myself and draw closer to Christ, or I can keep trying to live in the past while what is really happening creates a falling apart of life all around me while I live in la la land wishing for something different.

My mind keeps going to lyrics of one of my recovery songs, "Better Promises" by Hilary Weeks (from her album, Say Love):

I thought maybe you had forgotten me,

And I wondered if you listened when I prayed.

Seemed like everything I was asking for

Stayed hidden behind heaven's doors,

And I was losing faith.

I can see now as I look back,

Now that the tears have passed.

You gave me bread,

But I thought it was a stone,

And before you could tell me yes,

You had to tell me no.

If you had given me what I wanted,

I would not have seen

That you had better promises for me.

It took some time to convince me

To trust your plan and see things your way.

It was hard to trade what I wanted most

For promises that were still unknown,

And my heart was about to break.

Sometimes it's hard to recognize

The blessings that come in disguise.

You gave me bread,

But I thought it was a stone,

And before you could tell me yes,

You had to tell me no.

If you had given me what I wanted,

I would not have seen

That you had better promises for me.

And I can see now as I look back,

Now that the tears have passed.

You gave me bread,

But I thought it was a stone,

And before you could tell me yes,

You had to tell me no.

If you had given me what I wanted,

If you had sheltered me from the pain,

If you had let me settle for something less,

I would not have seen

That you had better promises for me.

**For more reference on Lot's wife, this speech is a really good one. Pray, read it, and let the revelation come to you for what you might be looking back on. I hope we can all be courageous to stand strong and look forward with a hope in what God has in store for us.

"The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead, we remember that faith is always pointed toward the future. Faith always has to do with blessings and truths and events that will yet be efficacious in our lives. So a more theological way to talk about Lot’s wife is to say that she did not have faith. She doubted the Lord’s ability to give her something better than she already had. Apparently she thought—fatally, as it turned out—that nothing that lay ahead could possibly be as good as those moments she was leaving behind." --Jeffrey R. Holland, "Remember Lot's Wife"

We are Soldiers

"Waving the white flag is not an option." -Alicia

We're trudging through the heat of the battle--trudging onward till we drop. There is no looking back. There is no going home. We are in this for the long-haul.

We will fight until the war is won. We know there will be casualties along the way. We've seen some already, and they have broken our hearts. We only pray that we, and our families, will not be one of the casualties.

What are we fighting against? 

Satan.

What will we win if (when) victory is ours?

Peace. Salvation. A better existence.The opportunity to live with God again. 

Satan is the master of cunning and evil. He is doing everything he can to rule and reign over us--to all the ends of the earth. He doesn't want us to follow God. He doesn't want us to be happy. He doesn't want us to experience true joy. He doesn't want us to feel peace. He leads us astray. He makes promises he won't keep. He will fool and trick us until we have nothing left but despair and emptiness. He will help us lose everything, and then he will leave us to fend for ourselves.

He targets our weaknesses. He uses trickery to create weaknesses so he can target us even more. He also leads us to target each other. How does he do all this? Through media. Socialization of sex. Our children. Our fears. He creates uneasiness. He creates doubt. He creates fear. He is the author of chaos and confusion.

He has no mercy. 

And he is relentless. 

My life has become a series of battles. As I have grown and gained experience, and especially as I have gained stronger faith in God, Satan has worked tirelessly. Sometimes, he has given me breaks of peace and composure (so he could sneak-attack), and I've let my guard down. It is then that he comes back working double time. As a result, I have lost some battles. But I have won more. And I have resolve. I am not losing this war. I will fight for the rest of my life. I will stand strong like Moroni and defend "in memory of [my] God, [my] religion, and freedom, and [my] peace, [my family]" (Alma 46:12).

This morning I studied my patriarchal blessing. As I studied, I was struck with how prepared I am to fight this fight. God has given me everything I need. It's amazing. As long as I use my agency the correct way, I will win. That's not to say it won't be hard. It will be hard. It will be exhausting. I've seen it firsthand. There have been many days when I didn't want to and didn't think I even could go on. But I can. As long as I have perception, perspective, hope, and faith, I can go on. I can do anything with God by my side, lifting me up, and giving me angels to strengthen me. 

I was instructed in my patriarchal blessing to find joy and happiness in this life, and that my attitude and understanding are the foundation of living a happy and healthy life. As I pondered that, I realized that true joy is a state of mind. Life could be awful all around me, but I can still find joy. I can hold on to that joy and make life amazing. It's the little things that count. 

Sometimes I struggle with my relationship with Ben. Even when he is being wonderful, I'm still recovering from trauma. And I honestly don't know when/if the full onslaught of the trauma will come back. I don't know what he will use his agency for. I don't know if he will start lying again. I don't know if he will keep secrets and live a life of adultery behind my back. I just don't know. That scares me. I have a lot to work through. Everything I just mentioned is only a small part. 

Despite how hard things can be, I can still find joy. I can live a full life, and I can grow to become a great woman who is worthy and ready to live with God again. I'm on the right track. I'm practicing the courage and strength it takes to choose joy in the midst of chaos. Life is journey to find joy and let it exist in you. 

The journey is hard. All along the way, Satan has been and will be fighting me. He doesn't want me to be happy, and he certainly doesn't want me to gain eternal salvation. But I'm not surrendering to him. I won't even let it be an option. 

For a while, I thought I was fighting this alone. I'm not. All along my path, I've found my fellow-soldiers who were lost as well. They went down other beaten paths, feeling alone or maybe lost or forgotten. Together, we're forming an army. We're fighting Satan. We're becoming more vocal in society. 

We are going to win.

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

We're trudging through the heat of the battle--trudging onward till we drop. There is no looking back. There is no going home. We are in this for the long-haul.

We will fight until the war is won. We know there will be casualties along the way. We've seen some already, and they have broken our hearts. But we will fight long and hard, and we will neither let ourselves nor our families become casualties.

"Oh you wounded fallen ones 

Close your eyes 

Hear the battle drum 

The cadence calling us 

March on 

March on 

Oh you wounded broken ones 

Still glinting in the sun 

Live trying `til we’ve won 

March on 

March on"

Ben the Beast

Credit

Last week, I watched part of Beauty and the Beast at my brother- and sister-in-law’s house. I haven’t seen that movie in a very long time.

The part that was on when we arrived at their house was when Gaston tries to kill Beast. I recognized the look in Beast’s eyes: he looked like he had pretty much given up and was allowing himself to be defeated. He had no hope. Suddenly, Belle rode up on her horse, and yelled Beast’s name. When he looked up and saw her there for him, Beast gained the courage he needed to use his strength to fight Gaston and save himself so he could be with Belle.

While this was happening, I thought of the transformation that had occurred in Beast throughout the movie. At the beginning, he was rough and unlovable. He had been transformed into a hideous monster because of his selfishness, and the spell could only be broken when he learned to love and be loved. He thought himself to be unlovable, and it wasn’t until Belle came into his life that things started changing.

I discovered so many parallels in this story to my life. Because of the addiction, there have been times when Ben thought himself unlovable. He has been the beast. He has been angry and selfish and hurtful. He has done things in moments of selfishness that have broken my heart.

And yet, I see the prince inside him, and I stand by him. There are times that he and I are both stubborn and our relationship takes a wrong turn, but together, the good in him is becoming more dominant than the beast of addiction. During times when he is willing to give up, I am there. I hope that my presence will help him have courage and strength to fight off Satan and live a life of true love and happiness.

Let me be clear, I know fighting the addiction is not my job. I know that Ben has to find it in him to be healed through Christ and take the steps necessary to ward off Satan. I know that he has much work to do, and it is most definitely not up to me to make our marriage work.

However, I am discovering where my role is in his recovery. I am finding the difference between his nature and the nature of his addiction. I feel very lucky because when Ben messes up, most of the time, he has his own trauma to work through. That trauma usually has to do with his love for me and disappointment in himself for letting me, himself, and God down again. It makes him sick to know what he is doing to me. Yes, he still does it, and yes it hurts every time, but we are coming to the point where we are experiencing true intimacy again. Not physical, but emotional intimacy. I can open up to him and tell him how I feel. I can be open and honest about what the addiction is doing to me and to us, and he listens. I can accept his apology and still be hurt and need space, and he knows and accepts that. I can take my time and work through things, and he is patient with me as I do so.

I do have a role in his recovery. I am doing my best to figure out exactly what it is. Based on experiences in my marriage, I am finding what works and doesn’t work. I know I have to be firm, yet loving. I have to be stern, and forgiving. I have to keep myself safe, but I can still help him in some ways while keeping myself safe. Sometimes, it’s brutal honesty that is necessary for both him and me. Sometimes, I have to be more guarded and lean on outside support people. But I always try to be there for him when he needs to talk about things, even if it pains me—just as I appreciate him being there for me even when what I have to say hurts him.

While we work through this, I have this part of me that is full of hope for us. I’m always full of hope that I will be okay because no matter what, I have Christ, and I know I can be healed through Him. The part I rarely admit out loud is that I am holding out hope that Ben will be healed and our marriage will survive this. I’ll admit, divorce is almost always on the back burner. I know now that sometimes divorce has to happen. When we got married, I totally had the mind-frame that we would never get divorced, and I thought we could work through anything. I know now that some things might not be able to be worked through. We will see. But, I have this sliver of hope in the back of my mind telling me he will be healed, and we will make it through this. Then, after we get through this, we can get through anything. I mean, who knows? But, that hope is there.

I recognize that it could be a long while before he is fully healed and our marriage is in a great place. But, lately, we’ve been getting to a good place. When things happen that mess up the “good place”, I’m still able to reflect on the things I’m learning and use the strength I’ve gained (along with the Lord) to help me rise up and be resilient.

No matter what happens, like Belle, I’m ready to ride up in my horse and give Ben support when Satan is kicking him down. I think it’s when he is being kicked down that he needs my love and support the most (and then, when he is steady on his feet, he can support me while I collapse from the heat of the battle). Granted, that is when it’s kind of the scariest because I don’t know whether he will be in total addict-mode or hitting rock bottom and feeling humble. I pray that he will be humble and continue fighting Satan so our marriage can thrive. 

Hell-Week's Disguised Blessings

Yesterday (well, this whole week) was impossibly long and hard. Thursday night/yesterday were my time to crash and burn. I almost cried at school. Luckily, it was during my favorite class (my catering class-nine students), and they are so amazing in there. I mean, it was a very awkward moment, but I just told them it wasn't them, it was me, and I was simply having a rough day. They love me, and they held me up. Then the rest of the day (I have one of those students three class periods in a row, and four others of those students two class periods in a row), they let everyone who was even remotely rude to me know that I was having a bad day and to knock it off. The rest of the day, all of my students were very protective of my emotional state. They fed me with compliments--telling me that I'm a great teacher, they love me, and that I'm beautiful. It was so amazing to feel that power and love around me. As a high school teacher.

I'm supposed to be in Branson this weekend. My friends are having a girls' weekend without me. That's a story in itself, and all I'll say is I had too much work to do, so I chose not to go as an act of self-care. Going was supposed to be self-care, but with progress reports going out Monday (and how backed up I am in grading and other things with school), the idea of going became pure stress. I decided to stay home so I could get as much as I can done because next week might be hell-week at school. I have so much to do. Plus I woke up feeling sick yesterday and worse today, so I'm glad I can just lay in bed doing my school-work and not be walking around outlet malls in the cold.

Last night I was at school until seven. SEVEN! On a Friday. Did I mention I got to school around 7:10 am? Right when I was feeling sorry for myself (around 5:15) two of my favorite students came in to say hi. They were setting up for the cheer competition today, and decided to take a break and see if I was still there...What kinds of students would expect a teacher to still be at school on Friday at 5:15? Inspired ones. Actually, they wanted some cookies that they were supposed to come get after school but forgot about. Nevertheless, I felt very blessed that they came to visit me and chat for a bit, and I do think it was inspired. About an hour later, a couple more students came to borrow my vacuum to vacuum turf off of something as they were setting up for the competition. These are my two funniest students (and I can never get enough laughs in, especially when I'm depressed that it's 6:15 on a Friday night, and I'm still at school), and it was another little blessing that I knew was from God.

I have stress hives. Not to mention the pain in my back, neck, and feet, which are constant. I wanted to do some form of exercise today, but I'm sick. So, I'll just lay here and do school stuff while I'm wrapped in blankets trying to keep warm. Things could look really down, but I know I'm so blessed. Throughout this entire week, which has had incredible highs and lows (Seriously. Insane amounts of tears, but insane amounts of joy too), I have been blessed. I'm sure later today I will get depressed again, but I'm just grateful for the moments of clarity I have when I know I'm extremely blessed.

Last night, we had pizza for dinner, made a fort with my 13-year old sister, and watched a movie with her. Today I might paint (hopefully...it would be amazing if I could paint!), and I'll for sure do some ADDO and study my scriptures.

It's actually a tender mercy that I had so much to do that I couldn't go to Branson. I am getting some necessary time for myself. Everything I had to do was too much to do after coming home from Branson, but it's not so much that it's taking up my whole weekend. Well, actually, it was, but I crossed some stuff off my list. I'm simplifying for myself. Kind of like how I chose not to grade some assignments because it was too overwhelming. Anyway, right now I'm supposed to be at a Stake Leadership Training for Young Women's, but I skipped it for self-care. And I think God understands that. When I prayed about what to cross off my weekend, I felt very strongly that I need to take care of myself this weekend. What a blessing.

God sees me. He knows me. He knows exactly what to do for me. And I have the Atonement to lean on.

Christ has felt pains, afflictions, and temptations of every kind (Alma 7:11). That means this kind. The kind I feel when I'm severely depressed. The kind I feel when I'm struggling with the responsibilities I have at school. The kind I feel when I'm stuck with the addiction in my life. The kind I feel because I'm not wearing my wedding ring, and the kind I feel when I put the ring back on.

He has taken all of our infirmities (physical and mental weaknesses) upon Himself (Alma 7:12). Because of that, He is filled with mercy, and He knows exactly what we need to be lifted up. He knows because He has felt it. He knows when I need merciful students to feed me with love and compliments. He knows when I need my husband to buy my favorite pizza and decide we're making a fort and watching a movie. He knows when I need my sweet sisters to make me laugh. He knows when I need my principal to email me telling me how great of a job I'm doing and that my work doesn't go unnoticed. He knows when I need my young women's president to ask me how my week is going and expect an honest answer (there is another person I opened up to about the addiction this week :) woot!). He knows when I need students to come talk to me about their own trials. It gives me perspective, and it also shows me that I am in the right place right now and am making a difference for them. I love my students. He knows when to prompt me to cut down and give me peace about cutting down on things in my life. He knows when to give me moments of peace and clarity. This list could go on.

He sees me. He knows me. He is always there for me. And, even though I know that, sometimes I still get a little mad and prideful because things are so hard.

But He is always there waiting for me with open arms. In the meantime, He sends angels to help lift me up.

I'm More Than a Conqueror

The feeling of God's love I felt during April 2011's General Conference will forever stay with me. It was just the week before Conference that I learned about the addiction and my world came crashing down around me. I guess it was good timing because at the very least, having General Conference right after that episode was a great tender mercy.

I remember crying a lot. But, this time, it was good crying. I felt hope. I felt strength. I felt like I could do this. After feeling miserable and hopeless for a better part of that week, these feelings swirled within me and gave me wings.

Whenever those good feelings buckle and weaken, I go back to that conference and re-read my favorite talks. We all know the addiction is a roller coaster. Times may be good. Times may be bad. Emotions may be joyful, and emotions may be angry and bitter. I haven't really been angry and bitter this week, but I've definitely been feeling a little hopeless and a lot depressed the past couple of days. It really hit me when I realized that the relapses are becoming less like relapses and more...just...habit.

My favorite talk ever, the one that always gives me strength and hope through anything, is from this conference I've talked about. When my world came crashing down, the Spirit taught me that I am more than a conqueror through Him that loved me. I'm more than a conqueror. I'm beautiful. I'm amazing. I'm a princess--the daughter of a king. I will conquer the horror that is threatening to destroy my marriage and my life. I will not be separated from the love of my God and Savior.

I read this talk again today. I find it amazing how at different times and aspects of this trial, different parts of the talk speak to me. I can't even describe what I love and what I have learned from it. I can only encourage you to read it for yourself and let the Spirit whisper to you what God wants you to know.

Happy Sabbath!

The Couch: A First for Us

Today has weighed heavily on me. I'm grateful for the strength I have been given through Christ. Without Him, tonight would be much different.

All day I've soul-searched. Yes, I've been at school. Yes, I have tons to do. But I have focused on the issue-at-hand as much as possible. After all, my relationship with my husband is of utmost importance. Processing the recent relapses are the most important thing I could have done with my day.

Sigh.

I've asked myself a lot of questions today. 

Am I too nice? Does my love and forgiveness help or enable him?

What should my expectations be? Is it too much to expect that he keep his covenants? Should I lower my expectations so I don't get hurt?

How do I make my expectations clear and throw out the money-changers without slipping into codependency?

I've learned a lot about myself as I've processed these questions. I've prayed. Oh man, have I prayed. I've pondered. I've found strength. I've seen the power I possess through Christ. It's been really really good for me.

I am a very loving and forgiving person when it comes to the addiction stuff. Thank you to my recovery journey for that. I am no longer the angry woman I once was. 

Usually when the relapses come, I stand strong and supportive because he gets depressed. I know he feels terrible, and it just feels so wrong to act in anger or harshness towards him. I don't want to hurt him more. However, when I got the text today saying he had done it again, I knew I had to be more harsh than normal. I could feel it coursing through me. Except I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to do anything that would seem angry or codependent. The strongest thought I had was of changing internet passwords for both our accounts so he can only access it when I'm there, which would enforce the internet boundaries we had set. There are ways around that, though, and I know if he really wanted porn, he would find it. However, even though I am wanting to be controlling for him, not for me, that still seemed like a codependent move. 

Eventually I came to the decision that he would be sleeping on the couch tonight. It was not an easy thing to do. In fact, I cried when I told him. I've never kicked him to the couch. That just seems so mean. But there's a first for everything, right?

Here are the reasons why I chose this course of action:

1) It's a boundary. It's not a codependent response to his actions--it's a consequence of his actions. He broke our boundaries. Boundaries can't be enforced if there is no consequence. This seemed like the least codependent response to enforce the boundary.

2) It shows that this is serious, and it's a statement of the lack of covenant-keeping and trust in our marriage right now. [Actually, there is a degree of trust because I trust his honesty. The lack of trust comes with the trust a husband has over protecting his wife. My emotional and intimate protection and safety is not currently trusted in his keeping. Because he has not been faithful in keeping covenants, which has emotional and intimate consequences.]

3) Sleeping together is something trusting, married couples who keep their covenants do. We do not fall into that category today, and thus, the privilege of sleeping together tonight has been removed.

As I told him all this, I tried to let him know that this is not an angry response. This is a loving response. I want him to understand the seriousness of his actions, and I couldn't think of any better way to do that than this. I don't want to control him. I just want him to take the consequences of his actions seriously. It had the desired effect. He sat and thought for a long while. When I asked him what was going on in his head, he said that it had done exactly what I needed it to: he was taking this way more seriously. I was actually afraid to move for a while, that is, until he basically told me I could go away so he could think alone. 

The beautiful thing about this is I feel healthy. I'm not angry. I'm actually hurting that he is not by my side right now and that I am sleeping alone (I HATE sleeping alone). But I feel strong. I feel empowered by my ability to think this through and enforce this consequence that I felt like needed to be in place. I feel good about my processing today. It truly has been for him. My motivation for all my processing and pondering has been to find something that will work for him. 

Now, as for my question I asked about expectations. I don't think it's fair to either of us to lower my expectations. He is my husband. I expect that he acts like it. I expect that he holds the covenants he has made with me in the highest esteem. I expect that he treats sex with respect and dignity. I expect that I'm the only woman he desires. I expect that he is the priesthood leader he is supposed to be. I expect that he works on developing a stronger relationship with God. I will not lower my expectations for him. BUT I do know that he won't meet my expectations all the time. At this point in the addiction, that is just not realistic. So, I'm figuring out how to use the Atonement. There is disappointment and sorrow that comes with unmet expectations. And Christ has felt that for me. He will be there by my side when I cry. He will be there when I hurt. He will lift me up and give me strength. He will help bridge the gap when my expectations go unmet. 

I feel good. I hope Jack is in the other room discovering the Atonement again too.

The sad part of this? We went on a really fun date tonight. :/ So, I almost chickened out of enforcing this. I almost felt too bad, or like we had too much fun and the relapse and my processing should just be forgotten about. I'm good at pushing the emotions from the relapse back [until I crash and burn and it all hits me a few days later]. After our date, and after some silence in the car, I asked him if we could talk about the addiction. I felt bad. But I think it was the right thing. 

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!

Strength in the Temple

 The three months before we moved, and before my back injury, I went to the temple every week. It really helped give me strength during an insanely hard time. When my back crashed, I was unable to attend the temple. Then we moved, and the temple became a four-hour drive away. Sitting in the car for eight hours and in the temple for however long was out of the question for a while. So I went from going every week for three months to not going at all for about four months in a row. I really missed the spiritual power you get from going to the temple.

When we moved here, Jack was able to get his temple recommend after a few months. It has been amazing to attend the temple together again. 

We made a trip to the temple today. It was beautiful. 

Why?

1) I learned a lot about Satan, covenants, addiction, and the Atonement.  The things I learned gave me perspective and strength.

2) It was so amazingly peaceful. 

3) In the celestial room, I felt serenity and joy that was [almost] beyond belief. And, after the craziness this week, I envisioned that feeling as similar to how I will feel after the chaos of this life and I am finally in God's presence again. I can't wait! 

4) I felt such a strong love and tie to my husband. I felt renewed strength to battle Satan and his destructiveness. He will not beat us. 

Today has been full of serenity, beauty, and joy. I'm so happy and grateful for these moments and the spiritual power I have gained today. I'm grateful for the trials of life and for what awaits us, if we are faithful, on the other side. I saw a small part of that today, and it gives me such strength.

I've mentioned strength a lot. It's true. And I know that strength comes from my Savior and Father in Heaven. 

As I reflect on what I felt today, this verse keeps coming to mind. I think it's beautiful. 

Enos 1:27:

"And I rejoice in the day when my mortal shall put on immortality, and shall stand before him; then shall I see his face with pleasure, and he will say unto me: Come unto me, ye blessed, there is a place prepared for you in the mansions of my Father."

I imagine that would feel a little like what I felt today. And I hope He says that to me. 

Fear. And a letter to Satan.

Credit

I live my life in fear.

When did this scaredy-pants take over? 

I think it comes down to the various pains I have suffered, and an inner protective wall I have set up for myself.

I have suffered physical pain: horse accident, resulting in back injury; bone spurs, torn tendons, and foot surgery; concussions; broken elbow; a severe form of mono; car accident, resulting in back and neck injury; herniated disc in lower back. The list still goes on.

I have suffered emotional pain.

This list is more complicated, but I think it starts with an incident in elementary school when I was super made fun of for wearing flip flops and not painting my toe-nails. And having HUGE feet. I know. It sounds so dumb, but that really impacted me. From that point on, I didn't want to get made fun of. I wanted to fit in. I wanted other girls to like me (I had just moved to that school and had no friends). Through middle school, I always wanted the hippest clothes. The coolest shoes. I wanted to be part of the "in crowd."

When I started high school, I liked what was going on. I had lots of friends, and boys were noticing me. I was far from being super popular, but I was in a good place in the social network at school. Throughout high school, I became more and more involved in the activities and clubs at school, and I developed more friendships. Well, more superficial friendships. I gained some true friends, but I lost friends who were dear to me in my efforts to be popular.

In high school, I had boyfriend after boyfriend. I thought something was wrong with me if I was single for too long. Those relationships started out carefree and not very serious, but they grew to become more serious as I got older.

I didn't even date good guys. Even some of the Mormon (LDS) guys treated me like crap. I was stood up for Mormon Prom. By my first boyfriend. Thank goodness for the good guy friend who was going stag with our group and made me his date until my date was forced to show up (thanks to my best friend who called him and yelled at him over the phone. We broke up after that night anyway). My next Mormon boyfriend was a druggie. He went to jail while we were dating. After those two, I decided it didn't matter who I dated. As long as I could uphold my standards, it really didn't matter if they were LDS or not. I dated a guy on the basketball team. Who was known for sleeping around. Who liked to "corrupt" good girls. Who slept with one of my good friends while I was on vacation during spring break.

I told him I wasn't the kind of girl he wanted. He said he wanted to clean his life up, and that I was special. So... we dated. I'm grateful to say that he did not succeed in his quest to corrupt me. But, once again, he was trash, and my self-esteem suffered from thinking that the only guys I was capable of attracting were losers, after all. I thought I had no real chance at the type of guy I wanted. I wasn't even sure what I wanted. I guess I had opportunities for better guys, but the bad ones were more attractive. I ended up breaking up with this guy after he tried to convince me to watch pornography with him, and was completely blown away by the fact that I had never tried it nor wanted to. The thought of him still disgusts me.

The next guy was pretty good. We dated for almost 2 years, and then he went on a mission. He played a crucial role in helping me realize who I am and what I can become. He really loved me, and he really cared about me. I was going to marry him.

Dating him was an emotional roller coaster too, though. When you date that long, there are lots of fights. There were also mishaps that scared me. When something did happen that I wanted to talk to the bishop about, he didn't want to. He convinced me not to.

Looking back, I found lots of reasons not to marry him, which helped me make the decision to marry my husband.

 My college life was much better than high school. When I came to college, I was more than ready to start over. I left my high school experiences behind me and became someone new. I became the girl I wanted to be. I was fearless. I asked guys on dates. I went on lots of dates. I didn't get into anything serious for almost two years. I partied (Mormon style). I had fun. I stayed up all night during finals week, both studying and having fun. I grew spiritually. I gained a better sense of who I am. I LOVED MY LIFE! I loved who I was.

And then I met my husband. (Haha that sounds bad. I still love my life, and I love my husband. Just in case you were wondering.)

I met my husband. He really liked me, but I was still in my noncommittal party stage. I loved everything about being single. I loved crushing on guys, but then when I got them, I couldn't commit. He stuck around. He was okay with being my best friend. Eventually, his persistence paid off. After many "I don't want to date you"s and "I'm not attracted to you like that"s, I realized I couldn't live without him, and we started dating for serious.

Before we got engaged, I asked him if he struggled with pornography (question, thanks to my bishop growing up who made me promise to ask the guy I considered marrying). He said no.  We laughed that I would ask such a silly question to the man who treated me like a perfect queen...

I was prepared to live happily ever after.

You know those lists you make in young women's? Or those letters to your future self about your dreams. Then you read it ten years later and see if you realized your dreams came true? I wrote one about my future husband. I had finally turned my life around and was marrying the man of my dreams.

Fast forward.

We got married. I was in a car accident. Intimacy faded during the "honeymoon stage." Yeah, we didn't get that blissful newly-wed honeymoon stage. Things got really hard. We fought a lot. It seemed like there was always tension. Words can't even describe how painfully hard that time was for me (well, both of us). Physically and emotionally.

And finally, when things are looking up, I find out that he has been addicted to pornography for most of his life and has been struggling with it for half of our marriage already.

I felt cheated.

I felt lied to.

Things definitely got worse before they got better. I'm just glad he told me that right before General Conference. There were many inspired talks just for me at that conference. I'm also glad he told me, rather than me finding out.

Since then, we have had many ups and downs. Right now, we are on a really good up cycle.

But, with my other physical and emotional trials right now, I am living in fear. Of everything. I'm afraid that my mom is going to die. Or one of my sisters. Or my dad. Or my brothers. Or my husband!

I'm afraid that I will suffer another back injury after I fix this one.

I'm afraid that my feet and back won't make it through teaching next year.

I'm afraid that my husband won't overcome his addiction.

I'm afraid that I could have married someone without this addiction.

I'm afraid of spiders. I'm afraid I will get bitten by a poisonous one. And die. 

I'm afraid that I will never be able to have kids.

I'm afraid when I do have kids, my dog will get jealous and attack them. Or they will get kidnapped.

I'm afraid of loss. But I'm afraid of gain.

I'm afraid of change.

I know I'm a little dramatic. But I'm afraid if my husband goes somewhere, and I am mad at him when he leaves, then he will die and the last thing I would have said to him in this life would have been mean or angry.

I hate being afraid.

I miss the old me. I miss who I was when I was five and wasn't afraid of anything. I was the yellow ranger. I was an explorer. I saved my friends from pirates. I saved the bad guys from sudden death so I could keep fighting them. I played outside. I ate brown leaves to see if they tasted like chocolate. I tried to nurse a bird back to health. I tried to hatch an egg. I was a mermaid. I was a power-puff girl.

I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to be a basketball star. I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to be a teacher. I knew I could be anything I wanted.

And I was afraid of NOTHING. Nothing stopped me. Anything that could stop me was a challenge, and I loved figuring out challenges.

So, to the girl who tried to hatch an egg, saved her friends from pirates, danced in the rain at 3 am in her bra and underwear (if that triggers you, come on. stop it), asked guys on dates, drove around BYU campus blasting "All I Want For Christmas Is You" and picking up random guys to serenade then dropping them off wherever they wanted, there is no need to fear! The time to stop being afraid is now.

I spent my scripture study yesterday learning about fear. The fear I experience is not the good kind of fear (which I knew). It's been thrust upon me by Satan, the evil spirit who wants me to be full of hatred. He wants me to be scared. Because he can't stand to see me happy. Oh, and guess what? I've been letting him win! Ugh.

He wants my husband to have low self-esteem. He wants him to keep falling.

He wants us to fight. He wants to destroy my family. And yours.

He doesn't want me to follow God's plan. So he places fears in my path to try to stop me. He doesn't want me to be successful. FEAR is his best weapon against me. It works. Sometimes, I let myself get so wrapped up in fear that I lose sight of what is true.

Here is the truth:

I love my husband. I know without a doubt that we were meant to be together, with his addiction or without. But I have a strong feeling that his addiction is part of the reason we were meant to be together.

My husband is my dream-guy. He is everything I want and need. And more.

If someone I love dies, it will be tough, but it will be okay. I understand the plan of salvation. I'll know they are in a better place. I can't let my fear of dying, or my fear of someone else dying, make me a wimp. I need to just live and have fun. After all, "you only live once!"

God wants me to teach. He wants me to teach at the school where my job exists. I know that. I have had it confirmed to me in numerous ways. So, my feet and back will make it. And I will love it. I already to love it (from my long-term sub experience).

My husband will overcome his addictions. Maybe it won't be this year. Maybe it won't be in ten years. Maybe it won't be in thirty years. But he will. He will because he is a good man. He is trying. He is struggling, but he is trying. We have both caught glimpses of what our life can be like addiction-free. And I know he can do it.

I will have children. My patriarchal blessing tells me so.

Change is good. I embrace change. I embrace change because it helps me practice dealing with it better. And I firmly believe everything happens for a reason. Any change that happens is because there is something to learn or gain from it.

The last bit of truth I want to share is based off of something I heard at group last night: I love my trials. If this life is for me to prepare to meet God, and the only way I can really prepare is through these experiences that will humble me and help me draw closer to Christ, why would I wish them away? That is basically like wishing life away. I love life. I really, truly do. I love life! With all its ups and downs. I would not change my situation at all. Everything I have experienced has helped me become the woman I am. I would not change a single thing.

I just want to finish this post with a letter to Satan.

Dear Satan:

I don't like you. You are a ruiner.
You are here to take over our bodies and ruin our lives. You are trying to ruin my family.
You are evil.
You don't care about me. I don't care about you.
Don't think for a second that I can't see through you. You may be dark, but the light of Christ helps me find my way.
 I'm glad God didn't choose your plan because you were going to take away one of the most important things I have: AGENCY.
And with that agency, I am now kicking you out. Out of my house. Out of my marriage. Out of my brain. Out of my heart.
No more fear. No more anxiety. I'm done with it! I'm done with you.
I know it won't be easy. I know we will still struggle, but I am going to do everything in my power to bring more light in so the darkness will be shut out.
I will make sure my husband and I pray together every day. I will make sure we have meaningful scripture study together. I will make sure we have FHE.
If you are threatening him, I will be his protector. I will karate chop you right on out the door.
And guess what? I overcame my fears about the future, and we are going to start building our family. It might take a while. With my medical history, it is likely to take a long time to get pregnant. But we are going to start trying. And when we do have kids, we are going to teach them the ways of God. You will not stand in our way.
 Get out.

Sincerely,
Your worse nightmare.

I'm ready to sanctify myself to God. I'm ready to consecrate myself more than I have before. I'm ready for life. I'm ready for purpose. I'm ready to begin being me again!

***POST EDIT: In case you were wondering, we have spent a lot of time this week trying to decide if we should start trying to have children. Again. Yesterday, I made a list of reasons holding me back. They were all fears. Fear of the emotional roller coaster. Fear of my health problems getting in the way again (they aren't all the way healed, but they are getting good enough). Fear of more frequent sexual intimacy... even though our relationship is doing really well right now. There is a whole lot on my list. And it all boils down to fear. I initially started writing this post about something different, but I couldn't stop thinking about how ridiculous all my fears are and how irritated I was about it. Along with other things. So, I hope that explains a little bit where this post came from.