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 I chose to stay home from church, I was irritable and withdrawn from my family.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 Even though I had originally made those plans as an escape from my home, I had several hours beforehand where I was caught up in pondering some scriptures and reading some notes from my therapy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.