June 28

i am awake. slightly blue. i feel a little consumed in my own thoughts. i feel like i'm looking at the mountain i'm climbing and that overwhelms me. what do i need to do now? God, help me just focus on what i can do today.

I've have a very good week. Last Saturday I looked at some of my eating habits through the eyes of addiction and finally committed to eliminating certain junk foods out of my diet. This method I chose seems to be much more successful for me than ever before, and possibly because I've been using the tools in my addiction toolbelt that I've never had in the past. But I also realize some motivation comes from body image issues/fears. That motivation is not sustainable.

Wednesday...ARP was no good for me. I'm immensely triggered when I am there and it seems to escalate with every meeting. I finally spoke with my therapist. He heard me, probed for more and encouraged me at a minimum to attend a different ARP group for a while if I am not willing to stop going completely for a while. I am back to praying for an all women's group. I have hope that it will happen......someday.

Yesterday was a day with some emotions that I still haven't untangled triggered by being someone close to me's birthday. However, we aren't that close anymore....but I wish we were.....but perhaps its better that we aren't.

Then I saw some old friends, probably stayed out way too late, and I visited with a angel-friend of mine. She is amazing. I appreciate her and her perspective and that she has allowed me to share this piece of my life that does fill me with a lot of shame. I do so many things wrong, but I need to focus on the things I am doing right, and do those things better. Everyone closest to me is being affected. I look at my 5 year old son. I pray he is strong and I can help him appreciate and recognize his divine nature. I look at my husband. How did we get where we are? I wish so badly I could turn back the clock and start over. But, I can't.

Instead I'll pray again: what can I do today?

Jobs and prayers and blessings

My husband got a new job at the beginning of the year. It was such a gift to us, him, and to our relationship. 

My husband was able to strike up a deal with his previous employer and still work on a contract basis from home. It was such a gift to us. A blessing. A huge fortification and boost to our finances. 

We finally got a budget in order. A realistic budget that works!! One that we can stick to and feel accomplished! We determined to finally start chipping away at debts.

But then today he gets a call from his boss. Everyone in their department, nationwide has just been laid off. His boss included. The COO included. It is a huge deal. His boss already has passed along my husband's info to the few people he suspects will be doing the majority of marketing now with high recommendations. 

Ugh. I feel like we finally got out from drowning financially. I really don't want to fall back in that water.

However, I am optimistically overwhelmed. I am so grateful that my husband found his new job when he did. It was a blessing and an answer to the most sincere, faithful prayer I could muster. I am so grateful that he consistently works hard day AND night for us. And I am so grateful that his boss passed along his info. Now I will be praying, and praying lots that they will think of us and continue to use my husband's services. 

Not a sappy fathers day post

I'm spiritually bipolar. Just two weeks ago, I felt rejuvenated after a visit to my old ward. The lessons inspired me. That week I opened up about my addiction to someone and I began to feel hope, and love. But then on Thursday and Friday that week, I acted out. I'm sure if I referenced my journals I could highlight my triggers. Nevertheless, I fell into a depressed pit which I attribute as a direct consequence of sin and shame. I chose to stay home from church, I was irritable and withdrawn from my family. I hated me reality.

That Sunday evening, June 9, I called up a friend and we went walking. Even though I had originally made those plans as an escape from my home, I had several hours beforehand where I was caught up in pondering some scriptures and reading some notes from my therapy workbooks. Everything once again impressed upon my mind that the power to change lied within me. This doesnt make anything easier, but I didn't feel so depressed for some reason. That night on my walk with my friend, we shared experiences and our testimonies really, about the gospel. I was immensely uplifte during our walk and felt an incredible spirit and gratitude as I drove home. That evening I cozied up on the couch next to my husband--a nice change from all the withdrawing I had been doing. I went to bed that night drenched in peace and with the spirit that I rarely seem to feel.

And I didn't want to lose it! Hope had been rekindled. Faith had been restored. My scripture study had more meaning. My prayers became a little more sincere. I looked forward to the following Sunday! But oh how short lived this all was!

Why?!? What am I doing wrong? I continued to read and study. I've been praying with my husband every night this week. But there's a lack of connection between my husband and I. He prefers his XBoX at night. I hate that thing. And then I build up a whole array of resentful and anxious feelings; I withdraw. I don't want to be in the same room as him and that thing. And by the time today, Sunday rolls around; the day that one 5 days prior I looked forward to, I'm back in my pit.

Do I just struggle with being happy???

I feel no sense of belonging in my ward. I know that shouldn't be my primary reason that I go, but it sure makes other things easier....like feeling the sprit instead of feeling uncomfortable. My 5year old and I managed to have contention this morning over going to church. He wanted to stay home! (he wants to stay home a lot). I'm unsure how to approach this. For a majority of his life, his dad hasn't come to church. That makes me sad, and resentful. I want to scream, "you have the priesthood! You know just a well, if not even more than I do that the gospel is the real deal. We are responsible for raisin our son, and now is such an influential period of his life! I am accountable for our little guy! We are! Please come back to church! Do this with me!"

And so today all the talks on Fathers I couldn't bare to hear. I didn't want to hear them! You talk about how grateful you are to have the priesthood in your home. I don't have that! You talk about how wonderful your husband is, and how much you love each other and I don't feel I have that either! We have our moments, but its about as short lived as my Spiritual Highs. Needless to say, I didn't know what to feel durin sacrament meeting. I felt ashamed for being resentful. I felt pathetic for wanting to cry. I felt guilty that I didnt just bring my son, even if he was wearing pajamas. I felt lonely, but recognized that I could arrange my sitting situation differently and sit next to a family who might use some extra hands. I look at life through some cynical lenses. I need a new prescription.

Because I wrote it down

I love journaling. I got my first journal when I was baptized at 8 years old. I didn't always write and even have year long spaces between entries. But at some point during my youth years, I began to write more regularly and I became more passionate about it. I once heard a quote by/about Wilford Woodruff who was an incredible journal writer, that he had a whole wall in his office devoted to his journals and genealogies. I went home and looked at my wall. That's a lot of journals, I thought. Reflecting on this tonight, I pulled out my journals and snapped a picture.

My journals from 1994-present. The large binder is 1/2 filled with journaling & 1/2 scrapbook material 

I have gained a tremendous testimony of the blessings of journal writing and for some reason care to share some of those thoughts here.

My journal has been an answer to my prayers

How about a story. When I was 15 I was at a cabin with my family and some friends. I began to feel envious and dislike towards one of these peers of mine, and was incredibly troubled by it. I went into my bedroom, closed the door and prayed that I could feel love for her. (Yes, I know...I sound "perfect" don't I?). Anyway, this was really a powerful moment for me to learn how the Spirit speaks to me. I heard vividly in my mind as I prayed for her, "First, you need to learn to love yourself." *Silence* Then the Spirit broke the silence once more, "Now, go write that down."

So I did. That prompting came loud and clear. I even closed my entry with something like, "....and I don't know why I'm writing it down, except the Spirit told me to so....there you go."

Years later at college, I was struggling with something and a particular date came to my mind. Somehow I connected that I needed to look up that date in my journal, and I reread of my experience at the cabin. It was exactly the answer that I needed at that time in my life, and I thought for sure that *that* was the reason for writing it down.

Of course, now that message is coming loud and clear to me all over again. With recovery, I catch myself in self-loathing cycles, with an underlying false belief that I am unworthy of love, even that of loving myself. I keep trying to exert energy into completely loving other people, when I feel the Lord is still saying "First, you need to learn to love yourself." And perhaps that's because, once I do, I'll be able to love others even more.

Journal writing has helped me see blessings I otherwise wouldn't have noticed

Sometime last year I was particularly lonely and wrote, almost in a prayer-like fashion, "God, I wish You could just give me a hug right now. Like a *real* hug. I just want a hug!"

Just a couple of days later, I was at the office of my bishop for our regular meeting. That day when he opened his office door, he opened his arms and embraced me in a hug (not the usual handshake). I was surprised by it and also appreciated it. That evening when I went to journal what we had talked about, I happened to reread my last entry. I couldn't believe it--I had completely forgotten about that plea for a hug just days prior!!! Heavenly Father had answered that prayer through my Bishop and I would not have even realized it if I had not written it down!

It's a place to authentically thank my Heavenly Father for blessings

I make a conscious effort to record answered prayers, inspiration, and personal revelation as an acknowledgement to my Heavenly Father that I hear Him and am thankful for Him. It's a good reminder to me that He does speak to me personally. 

It eliminates doubt

Sometimes, for one reason or another, I begin to doubt the gospel. I also begin to doubt certain experiences really happened in my life. But because I wrote them down I can go back and reference them. One sacred experience occurred as a 12-year-old. It is an absolute root to my testimony. When I do find myself doubting, I frequently reread that journal entry. My 12-year-old self would not have lied and fabricated these stories or borne a false testimony. I had no reason to. In fact, I don't think my 12-year-old self truly realized how powerful of an experience my experience truly was! My doubt is eliminated, and transformed into faith.

It's therapeutic

I used to imagine my journal being read by hundreds of kids and grandkids that were to follow after me (maybe I need to get around to having more than 1 kid...). Anyway, as a result I didn't want to overwhelm my journal with too many of my sins. I want to be perceived in a positive light. It is the reason I ripped out the page where I admitted the first time I looked at pornography.

But just recently I decided that it's fine and wonderful if my grandkids decide to read about my life. But I need to be honest in my journal for my own sake. I was having a hard time owning my addiction, until the minute I owned it in the pages of my very own personal journal. Since then, my writing has become more clear & direct. I write my emotions as they really are and don't sugarcoat my feelings. It's an incredible tool to help me sort things out.

There we go--it looks like I have the material for my next talk in Sacrament Meeting whenever that happens to be. :) I hope something inspires you to write in your journal tonight, if you don't do so already. I know it will be a huge blessing for you. I know it!

"It is not only the dramatic and colorful events that are worth recording. It is also valuable to know the daily round of activities, the hard physical labor that occupied most of the time of our ancestors, the hardships and discouragements. Besides, there are many incidents of daily life that are easily forgotten. Those who record them preserve precious moments that can later be cherished, relived as it were, by members of the family. Moments of humor, family incidents, sickness, prayer, conversations, visits--such is the stuff of diaries that become rich veins of delight and inspiration and information."

Worthy of love

I shared who I am with someone, like who I *really* am underneath the happy, friendly me; which is also who I am...but it usually stops there.

And then tonight I'm swamped with the lies. Satan's lies. The lies that I am ugly, and disgusting. That I am foolish to believe another will accept me & my story.

I hear a lie that tells me I am far beneath others who are in the business of being hurt, because I tend to fall in the category of hurting people.

But it's not true. I'm fighting the good fight! I'm worthy of acceptance. I'm worthy of friendships. I'm worthy of love. I'm worthy of love, dang it!

Pit of Despair

In my last post I was crying out. In desperation I wanted to scream and be "heard" but I knew it would be no relief to scream in the way I did.

But, I realized something....

That I really do hate my marriage. This is not to be confused with me typing I hate my husband, because that is *NOT* what I am expressing. Sometimes there are good moments, but overall I don't like the marriage we have created.

A saying I came across long ago: "Choose someone to love and love your choice." I believe and know deep in my heart that love is a choice. And making good choices is something I seem completely incapable of doing lately. This clouds my perspective. It sinks me into a pit. I walk in circles typically accompanied by discouragement, depression and despair. Unfortunately, my marriage suffers incredibly when I'm in this pit as it is often accompanied with acting out, isolation and withdrawal.

And this is where I've been....for weeks! I suffer. My relationship suffers. My ability to parent well and with love suffers. The worst part is, I don't even have the desire to do what's necessary to get me out of the pit. I've had people throwing down a ladder showing me the way out but I look at it, shrug my shoulders and say, "Meh. No. I don't want to do the climbing. Is there an easier way? Can't you just pull me out?"

This isn't to say that I don't want to get out or that I like sitting in the muck of hopelessness. No! I hate it! But lately at least, I don't want to engage in the work that I believe is necessary to climb out!

(What does that expose about my character?)

But guess what? God *still* sets me up for success. Things happen, conversations occur, the stars align.....and I feel His love. I feel His comfort. And then I believe in Him (and in myself) all over again. And this love ignites me, and my faith is restored which propels me, and I feel capable, and motivated to just take foothold on the first rung of the ladder again. And I finally did last night.

I don't want to lose this feeling. I don't want to lose this faith again. God, please stay with me. Don't let me forsake Thee again. 

yelling matches and silent wars

I hate my marriage.
I hate many aspects of myself.
Even my son hates me. He has said so, way too many times in the last week... but lucky for me he generally forgets that he hates me fairly quickly. Parenting has been SO FRUSTRATING these past couple of weeks. I'm disgusted with how much I've resorted to yelling.
And in my marriage, there's no yelling. Just silence. Withdrawal.

And what does this have to do with addiction. Everything and nothing.

Sunday in Seattle

Never before in my life have I been more aware of my addictive behaviors, their rooting or the shame that I feel because them. It's all front and center. I want so badly to be good. But I now realize how attached I am to everything this addiction entails for me. I always have said I wanted it gone, but a big part of me is having a hard time losing it; forsaking it. To forsake it is to change the way I've dealt and done things for my entire life.

And that is a huge task to undertake.

Yesterday, I was surrounded with discouragement. I believe one of the adversary's tactics is to get me discouraged. I believe my brothers and sisters in this addiction probably understand what I am feeling above. But, outside of that realm I have felt discouraged that no one understands.

But then....

Circumstances happen today and I get the opportunity to go visit my former ward in Seattle. I looked forward to seeing old friends. Our RS president was teaching the lesson, and every word she spoke were sweet answers to what I have been thinking about the last two days. She talked about discipleship, and BECOMING. Her words: We're all becoming something--whether it's on purpose or by accident. 

But what really stood out was a comment by a gal who moved in after I left. She raises her hand and shared a short comment--summarized:

"I used to have an eating disorder and it became bad enough that I went in-patient at a facility. After some time, I reached a point where I knew I had to make a change. No one else could make that change for me. I knew it. But what I discovered is that I wanted to change, but I also wanted what I was still doing." 

SHE UNDERSTANDS! That's all I could think as she spoke.....she gets it!! She understands that exact head-spin I find myself experiencing right now. And for some reason, my own burden felt lighter by realizing that someone outside of the S.A. realm can understand this sort of predicament. 

As this realization (that I can't keep my addiction and become who I want to be) has become more apparent, I find myself regularly asking, "Is there any other way? Is there an easier way? Is there a less painful way? Can I keep *these* character traits and just change *those*?" I keep searching and searching for the other way---it must be somewhere right? My answer to these question came during Sacrament meeting. 

Today was Fast and Testimony meeting and after a very spiritually enriching meeting my former bishop got up to bare his testimony. His final words were:
"...sometimes we just have to go through our obstacles--no, not around them, not over them, through them." And that message was like putting up a big flashy sign in front of me that could not be missed, "SEATTLE, YOU CAN'T GET AROUND THIS. YOU ARE EITHER GOING THROUGH IT, OR YOU'RE NOT. DECIDE WHAT YOU WILL BECOME."

And that's where I am at. I need to pray. Please pray for me to feel the spirit of recovery again. Because despite these wonderful moments that remind me there is one way to be happy, my addiction is overwhelmingly strong and I don't want to let it go. 

I am soooo happy that I visited that ward. I am thankful that the Lord graces me with gentle guidance and surrounds me with good people. He cares about me. I know He does.