Paradigm Shift

I love my husband.

He asked me if I had done "anything bad today" and after I gave him my reply he said, "Well, that's one less thing than I thought, so way to go!"

And then I realized there was a victory among what I perceived to altogether be a failure. Thank you honey for helping me see that. :) I love you.

Okay *gag* at the sappiness. I know you want to. 

Acidic Addiction

Therapy today was like drinking a glass of acid. I've never actually done that, and don't really know how that feels, but the heart wrenching and painful honesty I was presented with makes my insides explode. I wish I could throw up until my insides are purged clean. I feel sick. I am sick.

The consequences of my addiction are, but not limited to, lack of trust in my relationships. Lack of trust of self. Losing my integrity. Poor self esteem. Lack of feeling joy. Loss of job. Financial strain from job loss and in paying for therapy. Lack of participation in spiritual affairs. Dents and misunderstandings in marriage. Ignoring my family and robbing myself of cultivating happy relationships with them.

And I could just go on...

But I can't. Rip my eyeballs from their sockets. Cut off my hands. Punch out my front teeth.

I keep thinking tomorrow I'll do better. God, what do you really see in me? What am I going to become?

I am a child of God, and He has sent me here. Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear. Lead me, guide me, walk beside me. Help me find The Way.

Does God ever give us more than we can handle? Ya, right now, I think He does. But I am coming to believe that I can handle trials, but only through His Grace. Honestly, I don't know how I'd even rekindle hope again if it weren't for my Higher Power!

As Warrior puts so well: Seriously, I have no choice but to constantly connect with God. I can't handle lust. I can't handle any negative emotion. I can't bury either but rather acknowledge it and surrender it.  I can't handle oogling over an attractive girl. I simply can't handle it.  I can't afford to drink in lust on any level.  I can't resist this stuff with sheer willpower.  It is insufficient.  Recovery requires power. Power from a source greater than ourselves.

I cannot forsake my God.

Chapter Three

I look at the last 9 months as a life-changing experience. I have taken my life in a completely different direction; a direction that prior I didn't even know existed. I am shedding secrets and seeking help. Recovery is a proactive journey. I know this, though I don't always live it.Obviously, I've written several blogposts with snippets of some of my thoughts during this chapter of my life.

Many times I break my life into chapters. I think the reason why is because it helps bring me closure to a certain area and mentally gets me pumped to start anew.

Highlights in Chapter Three of My Story:

KNOWLEDGE
Attending counseling through LifeStar introduced me to addiction language, and aided me in putting my emotions and behaviors into words more clearly. I've also read lots of books to give me a better understanding of how addiction works and what shame is. But most important of all, I have learned that I am NOT alone! And that my worth is unchanging!

CONNECTION
One faulty core belief that I find myself believing frequently is: If you knew my secret life, my thoughts, my urges, fantasies/images, and behaviors, you would leave me.  I desperately desire connection, yet I just as desperately fear abandonment.

However what I have experienced regularly during this chapter of my life, when I am honest, are friends and family who challenge me, hold me accountable and forgive me. Some of you, my friends in the blogger world, know my deepest, darkest place and have listened to me share my shame tapes. Sometimes you hear me in victim role, sometimes you respond when I simply need to be heard, and sometimes you hold me very accountable and don't want to hear from me again until I've made my amends. You challenge that faulty core belief by still being there later! I'm amazed. I appreciate you, and love you.

RELAPSE
Honestly, I don't think I'm doing this recovery thing all that well. I had 40 straight-sober days months ago and then I loosened my belt and let little things creep back in. All in all, I think this just set me up for relapse. At moments, I tighten things up again *cough*white-knuckling*cough* but my new therapist has helped me nail down a plan, and a vision for myself and I feel more hope for myself again. Thank Goodness.

DEPRESSION
I have experienced deeper levels of depression and lower drive to do practically anything except eat chocolate and play Plants VS. Zombies. I am struggling to connect with anyone in my ward, and it's very much because I have no desire to. I habitually sleep in too late and go to bed super early. I default to taking naps when the weight of responsibility gets too heavy. And with Mom's passing, it's only compounded the depression a hundred-fold. For a week there I was ready-to-go again. I was going to go home, do my visiting teaching, read and pray everyday .... No, I'm pretty sure I still get enough sleep for the both of us.

I have no resolution in this category, yet. I found a glimmer of hope in Elder Holland's conference address on depression. I believe this is a small moment for me, and I will come out okay.

I will come out okay.

As for the next chapter of my life---I am anticipating great things! EEEK!!

Read Chapter Two

Seattle Sex Addiction Recovery Groups

HELLO!!! It's been a while since I've blogged.

A couple months ago, my hubby and I finally started couple's counseling together and overall it has been a very good experience. I mean....it sucks....it's hard....and I tend to become very defensive and guarded, but on the flip side I have also tried to take that time to be vulnerable and share, and it's kind of relieving to get everything out there.

I have a very kind, and patient husband. I tell you, those character traits never became more startlingly clear until we started therapy together. Often times during our session, after hard discussions he'll reach over and grab my hand. Or, when I refuse to hold it back, he'll keep his hand on my leg. He continues to be there for me. Over. And over.

Our counselor and my Bishop still suggested I find someone to visit with personally who specializes in sex addiction. I *finally* found Heidi in Bellevue who I feel is a good match. One of the highlights of our discussion last week was on starting a women's recovery group.

A while back I posted about my desire to get one started. I feel like Heidi was practically on the same page as me! She's already received approval for their Bellevue office to start a group on either Mon/Tues Evenings. The fine details are still getting worked out, but please spread the word!

LifeStar does have a women's group up and running now through their program. Last I heard, it is in Renton on Thursdays 4-530.

And last of all, my stake president has also heard my requests and have now assigned their newest high councilman to be in charge of starting a Women's Only group for our surrounding Bellevue, Bellevue South and Redmond Stakes!! These details are also getting organized, but stay posted!

The ball is rolling. This is very exciting. Very good.

UPDATE:
The women's group at BCS is not operating. LifeStar has a women's group meeting on Mondays at 3. And SA meets at St. Andrew's Lutheran church (across from the temple) at 8am Saturday mornings. 

My Shame Tapes

Shame tapes. They keep replaying over and over in my head. They stem from my husband reading my blog and telling someone else about what he read. It also stems from countless rescheduled visits with my bishop. They just speak to the belief inside of me that I am unworthy and undeserving of his time. These are my shame tapes:

Bishop has other more important things to deal with.
You have created your own problems, it's your responsibility to clean them up. You don't deserve to rely on others.
You don't deserve it when your husband is kind to you, gives you back rubs, or says he loves you. You are selfish.

You are selfish.

You. Are. Selfish.

You should be ashamed of yourself. You are a liar. You may not think you are, but that's how others view you. They are right.
You are a burden on your bishop. You are not worthy because you keep messing up, but that's your own fault. Don't cry because you feel like your trial is heavy. You created this trial. It's your fault.

End shame tapes.


Something I've been thinking about lately is trials. I consider my addiction to be a trial. Yet it's not the same type of trial as losing a loved one, or losing a job or having some paralyzingly accident due to no fault of your own. Those latter situations are ones to mourn and to rightfully declare, "what a trial!!" But for me, I feel the need to shut-up, and to be allowed nothing but full accountability for my trial. Like, "you deserve it, cuz you created it." But this doesn't seem very advantageous either. Anyone else have thoughts on trials and the definition thereof?

I need no pity. I deserve no compassion. I need to just give it up

Today is the 15th. I was supposed to have finished the Book of Mormon again by now. I haven't. I'm in Alma 20ish. My Mom read a chapter everyday--everyday!!!--for I don't remember how many years, but it was a lot of years (more than I've been alive). That's impressive.

When she passed away and my family was gathered, and sharing, and talking about the temple, and going to church together, and praying a lot as a family, I WAS RESOLVED! I had had enough!!! I felt NO desire to return to my sins. I was ready to work at the roots and to build and center my life around Christ. I committed that week that I was going to continue reading the Book of Mormon and if at all possible, finish it by the 15th. Besides, I knew I probably really needed to dig into my scriptures for that 30 minutes a day.

But...

As my pattern seems to show, I didn't show up for myself. I haven't yet finished what I started. And I know I can still *finish* it, but.... Grr, I just keep turning around and hating myself for committing to it in the first place.

Because I suck at commitment.

And this &#]£<! addiction is wearing me out. But obviously not enough. I thought last time was enough. I thought I was satisfied. I thought that was it--no more will I act out in this way. It was short lived pleasure for a shallow ending. But already, really already??? Already Seattle, you are letting yourself get pulled in again? You suck at commitment.

I feel beyond hope. Do I have glimpse of it once in a while? Certainly! But it's short lived, and despair lives out a little longer each wave.

I think I keep "committing" again to recovery for external reasons/persons:
For my husband
For my marriage
For my reputation
To be accountable to my bishop
To be accountable to the blog world
To be clean--physically protect myself from consequences of riotous living
To make it to the temple
To make it to heaven, so I can actually be worthy of being with my Mom again

And none of these do it. None of these influence me or compel me to forsaking and repenting of my sins. Sometimes I think they do, but if I truly had forsaken it then why am I here, where I am, right now?  I am sitting in the muck of my addiction. The muck is manifested by low self esteem, shame, depression, irritability of those closest to me which then leads to fights, withdrawal, isolation and resentment in my marriage.

I wish I could say, just as King Lamoni's father did " I will give up all that I possess, yea, I will forsake my kingdom, that I may receive this great joy. (Alma 22:15)." But when I listened to that passage today, I truly searched in myself, "am I willing to do that? Am I willing to give up all that I possess?"

And the answer I came to was, "no."

So what's it gonna take? Huh, Seattle? WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE?!? Are you going to wait until you lose your family before you straighten up?

Step one: honesty. Admit I have an addiction. Admit I am powerless. Oh, I admit it. This is much bigger than me, but I now recognize that NO ONE on this earth can take care of it for me. And that's the hardest part; the most daunting, overwhelming, hopeless feeling for me. It sure highlights a lot about my character; I have always considered myself a hard worker, but this is hard work that I want to walk away from.

How's that for honesty?

Compassion

"In cultivating compassion we draw from the wholeness of our experience – our suffering, our empathy, as well as our cruelty and terror....Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It's a relationship between equals. Only when we know our darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others."  -Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

Today, one of my elderly patients unexpectedly emulated the most compassion towards me. We haven't seen one another in over a month and acknowledging that summer was fading away, she cheerfully wished to me, "I hope you've had a good summer!" I am hardly close to this lady, but her comment triggered sadness and next thing you know, I'm in my chair telling her about the surprise loss of my mom in August. This woman, styled with pink and purple highlights in her otherwise piercingly white hair, met me in my sorrow. She expressed with such empathy, "Oh dear, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

I am telling you, it was not her words--for I have heard those words plenty of times over the last two weeks--rather, it was in her tone and in her eyes. I could sense that she was drawing deep from a well of past relationships. I appreciated that moment a lot today. I appreciated her.

I aspire to be that compassionate to others.

apparently, I roll my eyes at promptings too much

Whenever I try to do some formal blog post I always hate what I end up with so I scratch it.

What's a formal blog post anyway? To me, it's when I am trying to regurgitate something somewhat educational in nature--a topic that I like, and that has helped me. But I just deleted the post and decided to do an impulse post instead. Probably a post with no silver lining--because I am a cynic by nature--at least I think so.

God and I have heart to hearts every once in a while. Sometimes it seems like my prayers actually make it--rather, that my end receiver is turned up enough so I hear the response. And one day I recognized God asking me to stop rolling my eyes.

Huh?

I can't tell you how many times I have received what I consider simple promptings to do simple things and I literally let out a big sigh, an annoyed eye roll but then usually grudgingly go and complete the task. I'm talking simple things here, people! Like think of a prompting to go put on your socks.... Simple.

I think God was getting sick of me. In those moments I am truly reverting to acting like a 13-year-old who asks for everything, but wants to do nothing to earn it.

But what am I getting at here anyway? God somehow managed to teach me/remind me/chastise me. He reminded me that I am the one praying for promptings in the first place! And that I pray so desperately to have the Spirit in my life! And so here God blesses me to hear the whisperings of the spirit, and what do I do? Roll my eyes! How appreciative of me. Line upon line--He reminds me. These are teaching moments. How am I to be trusted with the big things, if I won't do the little things? Line upon line--he teaches me. Let's begin to understand how the Spirit speaks to me. It's a learned language, and I'll better understand it later if I tune into it now.

I love how God taught that to me and I tried to stay true to Him very consciously for days following. I don't remember how much later it was, but at some point I had obviously forgotten that lesson because He had to remind me again:

I don't remember the exact circumstance, but I just remember pulling my car into my garage one night after grudgingly reacting to a prompting and His spirit saying to mine, "Remember that time we talked about cheerfully following promptings? Lets work a little harder on that again, okay?"

Isn't that a loving expression? I know--you aren't reading it in the same tone that I heard it, but I sure appreciated it and still regularly think about it.

Well....this sure wasn't the direction I intended this on going. I guess thats kind of what impulse posting means. Hope you enjoyed the read. I guess Im not *that* cynical afterall.

I robbed myself

On a Monday, just a few weeks back, I was on vacation in Utah. And on that Monday I was 100% in my addiction. 100%. All of my siblings had gone home who also had travelled from far for their vacation, and so this Monday it was just me, my son and my mom. We had to go to my sisters house in a neighboring city to clean up supplies from the family events. During the entire drive there, I chose to engage in my addiction more than connect with my mom. I half heartedly listened to her talk, while my hands texted away with several guys--none of whom I knew. But somehow, stupidly, I wanted to make them interested in me.

When what I didn't realize, but in hindsight is so painfully obvious, is that sitting in the driver's seat was a person who WAS ALREADY interested in me.

When we got to my sisters house I snuck away as regularly as possible, claiming I was in the bathroom or downstairs cleaning, because it was becoming more obvious that my texting was a little more than usual that day, and I didn't want any questions. When my mom finally sat down in the backyard just ready to talk and hang out until my sister got home, I squirmed and wondered how I would make these replies on the phone....which was now charging inside.

I still managed to do it. I withdrew myself from the conversations. I was never fully present during them. And when my sister came home, my soul was so racked, I couldn't even think straight and I practically ignored her. My sister was point-blank irritated with me, and I just shrugged it off. I didn't even give my sister a hug goodbye, I assumed she was that ticked off at me. I was ticked off at myself....but then another text came through, and I replied anyway.

Today I learned my mom passed away unexpectedly. Out of the blue. Tragically. Unfairly. I love my Mom. She and I became closer and closer as I got older and somewhat more mature....but whoever said addiction robs you of connection, wasn't lying.

I robbed myself that Monday. And I really, really, really hate that I did that.

Breaking boundaries creates chaos

Not too many days ago I blogged about safety. I didn't quite understand what I was feeling but I knew I felt overwhelmingly unsafe. But unsafe how? Where was I unsafe? I honestly didn't give that post much thought before posting it. It was rather impulsive and I just typed it as I felt, posted it and went on my way. But that doesn't mean I haven't given it a lot of thought--trying to break down my feelings--attempting to discover the meaning underneath the cryptic words.

Heres what I concluded: I feel unsafe no matter where I go, simply because I have to take "addict me" with me. 

I felt unsafe in my home because I was figuring out ways to "defeat the system" and find innappropriate content. And then keep it a secret.

I felt unsafe at ARP because I was out-of-control the last few times I attended letting my mind wander and escape instead of focusing on recovery (or on my Savior).

I felt unsafe on vacation because I allowed myself to engage in activities that I shouldn't have. And then keep it a secret. 

I felt unsafe to work because I started slacking on maintaining appropriate boundaries with people. I wasn't so sure I wanted to say anything, or share that info with my therapist so I guess, in a way, I was trying to keep that a secret too.

I felt unsafe to blog because I recognized how susceptible I am to outside male contact. Even reaching out didn't stop me from continuing contact on the side with someone. My addiction was in the drivers seat.

But of course, On the day I wrote that post I would've never admitted that all of these things were underneath those cryptic words. In fact I barely recognized it myself. It's no wonder I felt so unsafe.  Broken boundaries. Keeping secrets. Forgetting commitments. I didn't feel safe because I wasn't being safe. But my soul still begged the question: "how do I feel safe again?!?"

And then...

Sidreis commented on my blog. She articulates herself so well--it was just like presenting me with this perfect-package-answer, granting me the clarity I've been seeking.. She wrote: 

"I feel safe in my Bishop's office, therapists office, and the Temple. Because those are the places I AM safe. I am in the same boat as you. But, I have learned to find safety within myself, as I set healthy boundaries and rely on the Lord. So long as I keep Him with me, He keeps me safe."

Isn't that perfect? 

Naturally, and fortunately, as I have confessed to my husband and bishop, contaminated the fantasies, blocked phone numbers, committed to call in to the women's phone meeting, and started being honest about my behavior, I have began to feel safe again. Establishing and honoring boundaries wraps me in a secure blanket of safety! Yes, my addiction will always be a part of me, but I believe I can find safety within myself.  I have the Savior. We all do. And His grace is sufficient for me. It's time for me to get back to work...again!

(PS--If you haven't watched the Brad Wilcox video in last post-do yourself a favor and watch it). 

Brad Wilcox "His Grace is Sufficient"

30 Day Book of Mormon Challenge

Who would like to join me in a challenge?  A challenge to read the Book of Mormon in 30 days (+ a week -- because we all need a little grace period. :)

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I participated in this challenge with my ward in January of 2011 and it was a powerful experience. There was power in knowing several other people had their sights set on the same goal, and it was fueled by Sacrament meetings and Sunday School heavily based on individual's experience of  reading the Book of Mormon.

For me personally, it was a month filled with a lot of personal revelation. And never before in my life have I read the Book of Mormon as one big story. As the days wore on, I was anxious to share it. My testimony of this sacred book rooted deep into my soul, and I couldn't help but talk about it to people. The message of the Gospel stood out so plainly, I could not deny it.

If I remember correctly, I ended up devoting about 30 minutes a day to reading my scriptures. Often I would break it up throughout the day, but I can tell you, it is possible if you make it a priority!

So, who is with me? I'm starting tomorrow (August 9, 2013) but remember I'm giving myself a buffer week. So I will be done on September 15. I hope to blog about some things that perhaps stand out this time around (but I won't necessarily make that my priority), but if you have special thoughts on the Book of Mormon, please share it on your blog. I would love to read yours!

Safety

I don't feel safe in very many places anymore.
I don't feel safe in my home.
I don't feel safe at ARP.
I don't feel safe on vacation.
I don't feel safe at work.
I don't even feel safe to blog anymore.
The only two places I have felt completely safe lately are in my therapist's office and the Bishop's office.
Where do you go to be safe?

Metaphorically Speaking

I'm walking up to the theater with friends bringing along some M&M's and they have a sign: 

I refuse to give up my chocolate so I miss out on a fun night with friends.

I go to the swimming pool. They have a sign:

I refuse to shower so I don't get to go in.

I am standing outside of Disneyland. They have a sign: 

I refuse to put on my shoes. 

REALLY? It's Disneyland!!! Why won't you just put on your shoes?! (I'm talking to myself here).

Sometimes the things I do especially in this addiction are about as blatantly stupid as refusing to adhere to a simple sign. Logically, it makes sense to "put on my shoes" so I can enter Disneyland's doors, right? But I keep refusing to give up something small & insignificant and therefore miss out on something potentially greater! HOW DO I GIVE IT UP? How come once I give it up, it can't just be taken forever?

Things that I don't understand:

Myself.

The Atonement.

Myself and The Atonement together.

5 Things I Give Myself Permission to Enjoy

In the LifeStar book The Toolbox under the section Give Yourself Permission it says:

Many people who suffer from compulsive behaviors become so absorbed in their addiction--or even in their healing--that they forget how to have fun, how to enjoy life. We encourage our clients to...remember what activities might bring them pleasure...and then give yourself permission to enjoy these activities.

So I have been thinking about what things help me have fun and actually enjoy life in a healthy way.

#1 Spending time in the sun!!! This was my view from the beach over the weekend. I really do HeartSeattle :)

#2 Playing board games. I enjoy delving into a different kind of "fantasy world" and saving the world from dangerous epidemics. My hubs and I are pretty competitive with one another, and this particular game (Pandemic) is a safe one in our home. But I especially love playing games with friends and family.

#3 I enjoy walking especially during Summer evenings. It takes me back to my teenage years when I would go almost every night with my family, our neighbors, or my friends. The whole neighborhood was out on Summer nights.

#4 I like playing the piano and listening to this

#5 I love getting my hair done. Unfortunately, this costs more than I can afford, but believe me, if I had all the money in the world, I would get my hair done and a back massage once a week. :)

ARP Woes

I've been thinking alot about ARP this week. Last week I felt depressed when I attended because I recognized how triggering the whole ordeal was, and how I was succumbing to my addiction there. I realized I was no longer going for the right reason. Somewhere in the last few weeks I shifted into going because I enjoyed the attention from a few of the attendees. Dang it!!

I emailed D., my therapist and spilled it all out for him. He advised me at a minimum to start attending a different group and see how it works out for a while. I understood him to mean that perhaps if I was introduced to a new crowd that my focus would be back on the 12-step-program (at least for a while....)

Tonight is ARP. I really, really want to go. But as I think about why I "really, really want to go" the reason is startling clear: To interact with these few guys. To anticipate their arrival. Wonder where they'll sit. Ugh!!! 

I can't go.

My whole body depresses as I say that. I have to remind the addict in me that I am not going to feed her and as a result, my whole body can feel her reaction. Obviously this addiction is a big part of me, so even when I'm trying to do what's right, it's not always going to be the most pleasant feeling. At least not immediately.

But I am reminded that recovery is not about having access to ARP. As Sidreis once commented: 

"Remember that focusing on recovery is focusing on the Savior."

Yet, I must say I see the benefits of ARP and I'm so, so, so looking forward to my vacation to Utah at the end of this month and a chance to attend an all women's group and see what that's all about!

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.

First ARP Meeting Worries & Tender Mercies

I met with my Lifestar therapist for the last time a couple of night ago. We went through 4 workbooks (all of Phase 1) together, but for various reasons we are now separating ways and I have been left to question my therapeutic goals.

On my drive home from his office I decided to make a pitstop at the temple. I wanted direction. I wanted motivation. I wanted to sort out thoughts from all along the spectrum of life.

Then I came home and pulled out my journal and received a subtle impression as I wrote. It wasn't  absolute words that I heard, rather feelings and words that I was trying to discern. I carefully wrote out what I believe God was trying to tell me. Moments like this help me validate my Heavenly Father will speak to me, personally.

Therapy has been incredibly wonderful and I've been very proactive in utilizing this resource, however I'm not so consistent in my spiritual endeavors. I believe that it's time now to channel my recovery efforts in a very sincere and serious way in a spiritual direction. I determined the first thing I needed to do was attend my stake's ARP meeting.

Yesterday night I was full of worry. I worried that I'd be the only female. I worried that someone I knew might be there. I worried that it wouldn't be for me. I worried I'd be too prideful to even make the meeting worth it. I worried my husband would be mad at me for taking another night away from home. I worried about everything!!! During my drive there I remembered this quote, rather I think the Lord brought it to my remembrance. I knew the discomfort was just a sign that I was on the edge of change; good things would come if I leaned into the discomfort.

Despite all of this worry yesterday, I was blessed with an incredible amount of courage.

I was 5 minutes early. No one was there. I sat outside the high council office. Was I in the right place? The Stake President came out of his office followed by.......I couldn't believe it.....my bishop! What?? I was a little surprised and embarrassed that they saw me sitting there, but then I decided that this was a small tender mercy because I love my Bishop. And do you know how some people make you feel better just by being around them? Well, my Bishop is kind of like that--just a simple unexpected hello from him boosted my courage a little more.

The meeting started. I was happy to see that I was not the only female. And I took more courage knowing the facilitator was "a LifeStar guy" as my therapist told me. The meeting was somewhat different than I expected. I've heard that in a general ARP meeting that people don't share their addictions and that things stay at a very general level. (That was actually one of my worries--that a general meeting wouldn't be a good fit for me.) But that's not how this group rolls. During introductions we were asked to share our name, addiction, and stating sobriety if we felt comfortable with it.

I thought for sure, I would pass during introductions, but my heart took courage and I shared my addiction and sobriety! *Breathe* I didn't feel alone! Not one wit. Thinking about it later, I found a lot of comfort in the fact that we shared our addictions. Otherwise, guaranteed I would've believed I was the "only one". We all know that feeling.

And, then guess what. I even shared later! I felt like I was at testimony meeting at girl's camp--you know that moment when everyone else, but you has borne their testimony. Your heart begins pounding and you want to share, but you're not exactly sure what to say? Courage overcame me again. I shared in the last five minutes how excited I was to be there. I realized this was my ideal meeting: a good mix of educated facilitating with a spiritual core. Seriously so blessed.

I even ended up staying afterwards casually talking to people. It was wonderful! I was so happy I went. I came home and wrote a little bit about my experience in my journal, and at one moment looked up and saw my face in the mirror. This may sound a little narcissistic but what I saw was beautiful. There was a happy radiance coming from me. I even glanced back one more time to see if that beauty I saw was real--yep, still there. I was vulnerable. I was courageous. I didn't dance around anything. I was truly and completely, 100% me. That whole evening was incredible. I even dreamt about ARP meetings all night! I am definitely looking forward to going again.

Proactive Mondays

I'm discovering more how recovery is a proactive ordeal. Living the gospel is living an active life. 

It was very therapeutic in a way to write out, or breakdown my emotions from yesterday because I was able to identify my pride and how debilitating it is for me. I know no one who is free from pride, but I don't remember it being so real and prevalent in my life as it has been the last 2.5 years. I've expressed and illustrated it several times; it's like a brick wall that is surrounding my heart. And sometimes circumstances arise and I feel a brick fall off, and it's a reason to rejoice! Other times I add more brick and mortar strengthening that blasted wall. ugh-I want it gone.

Last night, I recognized two things I needed to do immediately if I wanted to feel better. My misery far outweighed the pain of change, so I determined to do them. 1) Apologize to my husband for my reactive and rude response to his thoughtful question. 2) pray. 

I offered an apology, a simple sorry at best. I said a prayer, muffled words with no true feeling. But I did it. And, I printed out more Dailies sheets because I rewrite them every Sunday. I decided I needed to get back to some basics, and basics only since that's all I have energy for.

Then I went to bed.

And today has been much better. I've decided to start working on Step 3. I think it's time.

I cuss too much

I can't hang onto Hope. Hope, where are you?

Oh, I know. You're tucked inside the pages of my scriptures. You're snug inside some of the hearts of those who've walked where I'm walking. You probably were served on a platter to those who were aware of it, at church today. Somehow, I only got a nibble. But the minute I walked back in my apartment door, you vanished.

I look around and see him. Still in his pajamas, unshowered, clicking that controller and shooting the hell out the imaginary creatures, talking with his "friends" on his headset. I want to get on my high tower and proclaim how his choice to choose *that* over church is disgusting. I want to believe I am the better person for choosing to go to church. 

I am a jerk.

Truth is, he is far better than I. 

My son is hungry. More resentment builds as I prepare lunch by myself. Did I not spend the entire morning getting our son ready for church, by myself? I don't want to do this by myself anymore! 

I go to my room. If I nap, it'll go away. I'll feel better. 

That didn't work. You still irritate me.

Maybe if I get 3 stars on all my Angry Birds levels than I'll feel better. 

That definitely didn't work.

Maybe if I post an ad on Craigslist, just to get some emails.... I wouldn't actually go out and meet any of them. No, I'll just text that guy friend of mine. That's less harmless. 

None of it works. What would work? Communicating! Wow! Wonders, right? I'm learning recovery is a proactive effort. Recovery is often looking beyond the symptoms and looking to the root.

My husband came in. He asked, "Are you having a bad day?"

Perfect opportunity to communicate, right? But instead I pushed him away. And now I have to apologize for *that* too.

I am so unhappy right now. I have no hope because I won't let go of my pride. I know it. And the fact that I know it makes it that much harder, because now I have to own it. 

But why wouldn't I want to??? Don't I get that hope is on the other side? Isn't that what I want? Why is this so damn hard?!

Dialogue

Whenever I don't have the spirit and become so self-consumed and wrapped up in harmful behaviors, my entire world and perspective crumbles and I come to believe that I don't want or deserve peace anymore. 

I am looking at the world through addict eyes right now. I don't want to let it go. I know you understand this. The addict presents a carefree life, instant gratification, lack of responsibility, and escape. Yes, please, take me with you.  

But, oh wait, we've been through this before...1000x! It never ends positively. My husband will find out when I come to my senses and confess. I will not escape anything! I'll just have a bigger mess to clean up. I like being responsible. Instant gratification doesn't help me become a patient, selfless person. I don't *really* want what you have to offer. ADDICT ME, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! I hate you.

Caring vs Really Caring

The number one thing on my mind right now: caring

What do you mean when you say you care about someone? What does it feel like to have someone care about you?

I watched some Full House today, DJs uncles really cared about her. I remember watching that as a kid and wishing I had that. And today, that familiar thought crossed my mind. I was viewing the show from 26 year old eyes and experience, but was still responding like my ten year old self. Weird, I know. I know no one will understand why recognizing what I did while watching that show was of any importance but it is, to me. Those pangs of desiring to be cared about so deeply and lovingly come from somewhere. And it's bugging me.

I have held very strongly to the paradigm for almost a decade that there are only three people in this world who really care about you: your parents and if you have one, your spouse. And it's a belief that I think I'm beginning to believe is weighing me down...or as Brene Brown and my therapists keep saying, it's based on the faulty core belief that I am not worthy of love.

But I believe I am worthy of love. I can say that. Maybe I don't always feel it, but I can say that I am worthy of love just as easily as I can break out singing I am a child of God. 

Maybe what I need to figure out is what my definition of "really care" is. 

Do I think people care about me? Yes. But only to a certain extent. And if I'm not careful then they'll stop caring and instead be annoyed of me.

So do people really care about me? No. I think my parents care about me and they just will no matter what. But how come their "caring" has no/little value to me, when everyone else's caring does? Is this some insatiable need to be cared about?

Problem Piles

A post I read this morning reminded me of of this quote @LetHimHealYourHeart 

I'm going there some day!!!

I typed in "worthiness" on lds.org because I knew later that evening Bishop and I were going to center our discussion around the temple. I came across this talk: https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1989/04/on-being-worthy?lang=eng

It's titled "on being worthy" by elder Ashton in 1989.

Several things stood out to me and intrigued me that I listened to it again. And then again. What wasn't I getting? I compulsively replayed it and read along with it--I knew there was some application to his beautiful words that I was having a difficult time, well, applying.

forgive me if I misquote but here are the principles that stood out to me again and again:

• we are our own worst judge. Sometimes it's necessary to involve a third party in helping us judge our worthiness.

• some people have grown comfortable with their unworthiness

• sometimes there is a need for us to be chastised or corrected in a spirit of love and hope

I met with Bishop and told him about my recent slips and then unexpectedly he began pointing out some changes he saw in me already just in the way I reported my slips. I must say I disagreed with his favorable viewing of me because in my mind: I certainly wasn't worthy of his compliments.

And then he began to talk about the goal of getting back to temple. He said, "Lets shoot for the beginning of June." If I had had any liquid in my mouth at that very moment, it would've spit all over him and out my nose at the same time.

"What?!?!?!?!? You're talking like June 2014, right?" 

He shook his head. He was serious. 

And my thoughts were, Bishop, you have way too much faith in me. You have faith in me? It shook me. Literally, I began shaking.

What was I feeling? Why was I so uncomfortable? I hadn't lied to him; I'm not deceiving my way back to the temple. I want to go there. Why don't I have as much faith in myself? What is he seeing in me that I'm not seeing in myself?

I voiced my concern over setting a date and then "white knuckling" my way to that point; he understood. Instead he asked me if we can start with a limited use recommend. He wants me to go with two new converts in our ward and do baptisms with them. The excitement began to replace the discomfort. Hope poured into my soul. I went home on the brink of tears. Hope was back; something I thought was so unattainable is within my grasp!

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I may or may not have talked to myself. ;)  Bishop believes you are worthy enough to get a recommend. Elder Ashton's talk came to remembrance--trust what your bishop sees in you. Oh my goodness, was my next thought, I am comfortable in my state of self-proclaimed unworthiness! Elder Ashton wasn't kidding! I am shaking and fearful because I am actually scared to be "worthy" again!!! 

But after acknowledging that fear, I was overpowered by excitement! Now, my spirit inside me is jumping for joy. I am ready to hang up a picture of the temple at my bedside, in my car and at work. I want to do everything I can to be that person my Savior sees me to be. I recognize I will still have my downs, but that I can continue to cushion those falls with working my recovery and utilizing all these tools I have obtained, and that I can be proactive and get back to doing what I need to do to keep my heart turned towards my Savior. My dear Bishop, I love you! I still think you are crazy to say three weeks, but I'll take it. Today I am really, really looking forward to the temple.

My journaling didn't do justice to what I was feeling so like a 6-yr-old I expressed by drawing.

~Hopeful in Seattle. 

Why women should wear make up. BS.

About 3 years ago I was caught up in a conversation with a friend in which she was telling me about her uncle's affairs and how her aunt was still married to him. I don't remember the exact nature of our conversation, but I do remember one thing she said--the biggest lie I've ever heard: "Well, you know, I've heard that the wife needs to take some accountability for affairs, too. It's her job to keep the man interested; keep herself well put together and make sure his needs are met, if you know what I mean."

And do you know what I did? 

I nodded my head right along with her. I'd never heard that lie philosophy before and agreed there must be some truth to it.

Actually, that conversation stayed in my head for quite some time. It wasn't too long after when I started pursuing an inappropriate relationship and I admit using her story as justification for my own actions at times--as if my flirting was somehow my husband's fault because he didn't fulfill a certain need for me.

Fast forward three years and a whole-lotta-change-of-perspective later, and this friend is on my couch. Our sons are now 5-years-old and playing quite well together. We had plenty of time just to talk and somehow our conversation turned to women in our church culture. She expressed how she felt there is a lot of pressure for women to remain well kept, to wear make-up, always have their hair done and look their best. I could sense where this conversation was going, and sure enough she got to her point which was: Because it's the woman's responsibility to keep her spouse interested.

I don't know that I've ever said a mean word in front of this gal in my life, but on my couch that day, in front of our sons, the word bullshit shot out quite impulsively. 

That shut her up for a minute.

 I wondered if I should tell her my experience; I decided against that. But I wished so badly that my life could be a more open book than it is; free of judgement. That she could see all of me, where my perspective was coming from. That she could hear, straight from someone who has put her husband through that hell, that it was in no way his fault. That I am accountable for my actions. And that no sexual act, pretty body or well-dressed day would've realistically prevented that. 

But mostly I felt sorry for her. As she began breaking down why she even believed that philosophy so wholeheartedly she described to me how her mom was always well aware of every break-up/divorce in their ward and the family. She heard the gossip and her mom constantly pointing her finger at the woman, assessing her hygiene and hair-dos to determine whether it was truly just the man's fault or not. As a result, she has raised a daughter who is now so terribly wrapped up in keeping herself as impossibly perfect as she can all in a vain effort to keep her husband's eyes from wandering. Oh my dear friend. I wish I would've called that bullshit three years ago.

Step one: admit that you and probably everyone else around you is addicted to something

This is actually From my journal feb. 24, 2013.

I've been thinking about addictions lately and reading about them. The more I read, the more I'm convinced that everyone must have an addiction of one kind or another. I've also reflected on all the "little things" humans do to perfect themselves. Of course we know that perfection won't be achieved. Yet, we spend our time, energies and advertising promoting healthy eating and exercising 30min/day, massage therapy, vision therapy, emotional therapy; things that restore perhaps the body to as perfect state as we can imagine. But perhaps we are meant to be imperfect.

Hmm, that fully supports the talks I've been reading on perfectionism (an unhealthy obsession towards being perfect). The perfectionist may have a hard time accepting that this is unachievable and suffers with invulnerability never truly experiencing a joy that I hear is available.

Currently I'm tackling (or attempting to tackle) an addiction that despite the fact that so many people have it, it affects me and my happiness and of those around me and so striving for perfection, rather striving to be the best I can in a healthy way, will be beneficial. But I can't imagine tackling other addictions (like to chocolate) in such a serious way as being necessary. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we are expected to "recover" from all addictions.

The final thing I've contemplated is: who is our control group? In any addiction the addicted seem to desire normalcy. Yet, who determines "normal"?

Engaging in the addiction only brings despair

I love journaling but sometimes I just don't want to litter and overwhelm the pages with details of my addiction. So I'm grateful for this outlet. Today's entry I'm going to try to breakdown some of my behaviors and thoughts before acting out and after.

It's been 40 days meeting my bottom line. But then...

Two days ago, I dropped my son off at preschool. I'm home alone. I have my routine: eat breakfast, shower,  turn on the heater, get a blanket and do my scripture reading. Well somewhere in this mix I felt the itch. I don't know if I had hopped on my phone, I'm sure I was done with my scripture reading at this point, and was now being idle--not really engaging in productive or constructive activities. My mood was depressed--I had felt extremely irritable and depressed the day before and had expressed that to my husband the day before. He was immensely kind and accommodating to me. At a moment where I didn't express any love in return, he just loved me. Those depressed thoughts still lingered though, I thought for sure I must be pmsing

 Anyway, the itch took forefront of my mind. I wondered, "should I text anyone?" I didn't want to. And for the first time in many weeks I realized my better half was not winning nor really talking me out of this. I fixated on the thought so much. I wanted to feel it again; I remembered it felt good, but it had been so long it seemed. And at that point I blocked out everything else---even time couldn't compete--I masturbated till I was satisfied and then had to rush out the door to pick up my son. My phone had k9 browser now, but I was still able to recall enough visual junk that it didn't seem to make a difference whether I was literally seeing it with my eyes or not.

I feel so sick just writing this. I feel like a disgusting individual.

Yesterday I was at work all day. I've done really poorly on my dailies this week and I'm sure that made me more susceptible to relapse. As my therapist says "doing dailies is like when the rubber meets the road." I avoid praying because of all the feelings of self worth or the lack thereof. How am I going to repent--again? How can I ask for blessings when really I am desiring to dwell with apathetic feelings. Prayer seems useless unless in willing to be a humble individual.

I came to the conclusion last night that I truly am a selfish individual. My husband has still been so kind and loving toward me. He created a safe enough spot that I even told him about me masturbating. It was a beautiful discussion. But the next day when I was feeling somewhat better, I still didn't return any favors of love or simple gratitude. I selfishly want it and expect it from him, but am not willing to go the extra mile to return the favor.

Today--didn't pray. I did sort of before reading my scriptures. I enjoyed my reading. I got ready for the day. Made some phone calls. And then I was on Facebook - imagine that. And got caught up in watching a survivor clip and then once again idleness just ensued. The itch didn't really return this time, but the thought of looking at pornography came first this time. There's this brief moment--indescribable-where I can gage the amount of resistance I will give to a thought. This one just seemed to be like a command in the computer system and I just followed my orders. I didn't fight it. I just switched websites. And that was my first viewing experience on my home computer. I thought that was safe--since I'd never done it before. Pshaw.

Almost immediately I recognized the impulsive desire I have to go spend money we don't have. This happens regularly. Thought behind this impulse: I've already screwed up! I don't care anymore! Budget goes out the window.

As I walked to the park today, my son grabbed my hand and that was the first time in a while that I remember that icky feeling of disgust and that he shouldn't touch me. And it's a huge reminder of this double life I'm trying to lead.

A lot of hopelessness surrounds me. Discouragement. I want to quit doing the things that matter most, like somehow that will take away the discouragement--but I know it won't. Even stupid things like I want to quit my calling--because then I won't have to deal with that responsibility. But really, I don't. I want those opportunities. I need them. And I need to pray. I just don't know what to say.

About Masturbation

Over the past several years I've struggled with the difference in opinion between the church and the world on masturbation. It seemed as though within the church the only advice on the topic was "Don't  do it." Conversely, it is easy to find and even hear coworkers and friends not of our faith to talk about it like its not big deal; it's necessary and normal, it flushes the system of old sperm (ok that doesn't relate to me but still it's a valid argument on the topic).

 I think this quote, taken from this source sums up rather nicely what's so dangerous about masturbation--it's the explanation I wished I had had, more than just the "Don't do it."

 This is where neurochemistry comes in, too. Sexual climax involves incredibly powerful chemical events that can even be analogized to the effect of powerful drugs. Both make the brain perceive incredible pleasure. Because of neuroplasticity (the brain’s tendency to rewire itself so that a stimulus and its response are closely associated with each other), sexual stimulus will be associated with its incredible neurochemical reward. Some of the chemicals that are released during sex are the same as those released after a woman gives birth. And just as these chemicals help a mother to bond with a newborn child, they also help sexual partners to feel bonded to one another.

   But when sexual stimulus comes in the form of masturbation, completely devoid of the sharing and vulnerability and complementarity of marriage, then the brain can become wired so that it is primarily masturbation that produces the reward, and an individual can become increasingly unable to sexually respond to a spouse. Masturbation and intercourse are simply different. One who masturbates frequently has a very direct knowledge of what actions bring pleasure most effectively. It can be difficult or impossible for a spouse to reproduce the pleasure that a masturbator has learned how to produce on his or her own. Thus, sexuality, if not expressed in the context of a loving and devoted relationship, turns inward and becomes a focus on self. It is spiritually dangerous to use 
sexuality for self when God intends for it to be used to help us overcome our love of self.

Questions and Comments--cuz I don't have the answers

What do you mean when you use the term "recovery"? What message are you trying to convey?

For me, I define it as recognizing my behavior as an addictive pattern. Then I begin gathering tools to specifically aid me in breaking those patterns, overall changing my behaviors.

For me, recognition truly was the first step--honestly admitting my behavior was out of control and that as much as I wanted to change, I was met with an equally powerful subconscious that didn't want to change. Then from there, I figuratively yet very literally began loading my toolbelt with :
Contacts--people I could trust to talk openly about this topic
Therapist specific to addiction
Arp manual
Keeping Dailies
Reading literature (Brene brown, and he restoreth my soul).
K9 on my phone
Learning about triggers/boundaries/shame

Next question: Am I on the right path? What helps you recognize you're truly doing it the right way this time? How might you help someone else who finds them self in the same predicament as you?

The right and the wrong way to enjoy sex

Wrong: instant gratification via self-stimulation.

I didn't give in today. I wanted it so badly. I was alone, I texted my vts and cancelled our appointment, I threw myself into isolation. Eventually, I threw myself on my knees. It wasn't a feel-good prayer, nor one with much humility, my getting on my knees was a somewhat of a plea to my Heavenly Father in itself. Of the dust explains it so well, but I knew I would somehow get the motivation I needed if I would just kneel.

Unfortunately sometimes I need some motivation to pray!

I got out alive and eventually out my front door.

Fast forward to tonight. I have a sexual appetite again. That's not wrong. Normally and dare I say, healthily I would go to my hubby and warm him up to the idea. But tonight all you recovery-ites and your blogs are making me internalize this more and somehow I feel like I'm now only using my hubby to fulfill some lust-monster within me.

My husband then made a remark implying his desire for sex. And ironically, my other normal and might I say, unhealthy reaction happened; I began conjuring up every reason I didn't want it! How i can manipulate him out of it. What?!?

And then I blended these ideas all into one. "In the name of recovery, I should refrain until I'm willing to give myself to you in a wholesome way," I said, (but not really because I don't talk like that), but whatever I said, became my excuse not to have it.

My husband just looked at me and said, "Hey if you want it, come and get it, because I want it," practically telling me he didn't care if it was fulfilling some figurative lust monster in my mind.

And this has completely crushed this model in my head I've been building about The Right and Wrong Way to have Sex.

So on that note, I'm gonna go and we shall see what happens tonight. And then I'll determine how I feel, and that will become MY personal boundary about what is the right way and the wrong way to enjoy sex.

And you'll never know what I come up with -  unless I get pregnant, then it may be obvious. :) - because honestly, you'll figure out what works for you in your marriage, just as much as I will mine.