Lies, Lies, Lies

My last post was pretty brutal-- deep hidden feelings, fears, things I have hidden away for years.  Some days I want to blame Edmond for those insecurities.  You did this to me.  But the truth of the matter is that I saw in Edmond's actions the confirmation of the lies I already believed in myself.

Yup.  LIES I ALREADY BELIEVED ABOUT MYSELF!  I don't matter; I don't count; I don't have any right to have needs; I am not loveable; I can only rely on me; I am not safe; I can not trust;  LIES! LIES! LIES!  Lies that, if I am honest, exited in my heart long before I even knew Edmond.

There are lots of ways to destroy a soul.  Sin, selfishness, vice.  Yup they will eat away at you.  Lies about your worth, value and importance can destroy you from within--  Lies that seem so appealing because they explain away another's poor behavior.   Lies that comfort and seem to empower you when you feel helpless.  Lies that I carried around like a warm blanket in the frigid hours of despair-- Only the blanket was really tattered, ratty and full of holes.  Oh, how I believed that they would keep me warm.

Basing my life on those lies I became a control freak; I could only feel safe if I accounted for all the details of my life and the lives of my family; I knew and planned ahead for all eventualities, including preparing myself for the negativity I was sure to receive.  If you are prepared for people not liking you, complaining about something, and generally behaving poorly, it doesn't hurt as much when that happens, right?

I became extremely competent-- I am a talented person by nature, but I became exceptional.  Perfection or don't even try.  Exceed expectations daily, moment by moment.  Any minor critique reinforced that even though I gave my all, I was not enough.  Must try harder and do more next time.  And live second by second seeing all the things that were not done perfectly.  Accommodate everyone's demands, wishes and requests.  Do all that I can do to make others happy so they won't see my failings- or at least pray they won't comment about them today.

And when I was too exhausted from running at 90mph to please and beg acceptance from those around me, I would numb out-- distract, avoid, disengage.  Facebook, food, business, pinterest, tv. Anything to avoid feelings and the confirmation that I really am a horrible person.

You see, Edmond didn't do this to me.  I chose to believe and live a lie.  Satan is so smart.  He knows my weakness; he knows Edmond's.  Satan exploited Edmond's weaknesses and turned him to addiction.  Me?  He turned me from the truth.

I found this scripture yesterday that was exactly what happened to me:

Satan seeketh to turn their hearts away from the truth, that they become blinded and understand not he things which are prepared for them. (D&C 78:11)

Brutally honest moment:  I have always known and believed that God loves his children-- yep, you, and you over there and Edmond and my kids, and EVERYONE BUT ME.  I have felt His enormous, awe inspiring love for his children.  But love me, no.  How could I ever believe and trust in a God that I didn't really think loved me like he loves everyone else.  I can honestly say I don't understand the purposes of the Lord.  I don't get what marvelous blessings he has for me.  These verses gave me some comfort.

...ye are as little children and ye have not as yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you; And ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. (D&C 78 17-18)

 It is ok that I don't get it.  It is ok that I feel like I am not there yet.  It is ok that I don't feel God's love fully.  I can't bear it now, but the Lord will lead me to his Love.

Effects of Abuse

I finally had the balls to say it.  That word. The A word.  Abuse. That is what I am dealing with.  The after effects of abuse.  Edmond's behavior during addiction was at times abusive.  There I said it. 

Edmond's addiction created trauma in my life, and the healing process just keeps going on.  Being honest about what our relationship was like during Edmond's addiction cycles has opened me up to a whole new, fun adventure.  New because I have never experienced anything like being honest about my feelings.  Fun because I am finally clearing out some of the trash that keeps spewing in my face, without me understanding why.  This is why:  I experienced trauma and the trauma was, well, traumatizing.  And while Edmond is in a healthy great place, that doesn't mean the abuse never happened.

I knew it hurt me.  Duh, but what did the addiction cycles do to me?  What could it do, I didn't even know what was going on.  I used to feel lucky I didn't know about the addiction until Edmond was really serious about coming clean.  You know, fewer disappointments, fewer broken boundaries, fewer lies.  No, no and no.  Fifteen years of lies; years of tearing myself inside out and back right again trying to make things ok when they weren't and not having a clue why- just wishing that if only I (fill in the blank) things will get better.  Years of being at odds with a monster in the room I never could see.

It took me a while to be willing to admit that I was traumatized.  But I see the same behaviors in the kids I work with-- kids who have endured trauma as infants/children and are trying to figure out how to survive in regular families.  I think some of these effects are par for the course.  Doesn't make it any easier though.

I learned:
1. I don't matter.  I don't count; my needs, my wishes, my opinions aren't important.  I am a tool used to care for and meet the needs of other people.  Never my needs/wants.  What do I want?  I have no clue what my preferences are; I am a reflection of what you want.  I am the ultimate object.  (Interesting that with a sex addiction, the objectification goes so much further than just sexual objectification, although that is/can be part of it)

2. I am not enough/ok/lovable. No matter what I do, there is always something I missed, something to improve upon, something I need to be better at.  I must always work harder/do more/be more to receive positive attention.  All this trying and doing more reinforces the concept that I am just an object- a tool.

3. I can only rely on me.  The mental and emotional withdrawals during Edmond's addiction cycles meant that I carried everything.  I owned it all- home, yard, finances, worries, relationships, parenting.  I learned that I could not trust anyone to be there to help me when I needed it most.  Even faith promoting phrases enforced that feeling: pray like it all depends on God and work like it all depends on you.  YUP it does all depend on me. Nobody is there to help me.

4. I am not safe-- I am not safe enough to say what I think, do what I want, parent as I see fit or even feel what I feel.  The consequences of being at odds with Edmond by saying/doing/being/thinking/feeling something that didn't fall into his narrative of the situation was emotional withdrawal, mean looks and criticism.  I only felt safe with my emotions/thoughts/preferences hidden, stuffed down deep where the real me was safe.  Emotions became something to fear, something to avoid, something to hide.  Besides I didn't really matter; I'm just an object, a tool.

Hard. painful feelings:  I am not safe; I can only rely on me; I am not lovable; but all those don't really matter because, I don't matter anyway.

And none of that is really true in the grand scheme of things.  But trauma, abuse, neglect, disregard SHOUT those messages loud and clear.  They scream and chant relentlessly until you give in to their siren song.  You hide, you change, you fear, you cope.  You survive.  Do what it takes to get through each day unscathed.  Pray for strength to do it again, because this is your life, and aren't you supposed to be happy and bloom where you are planted?  Of course.  Pretend to be happy or at least learn to be content.  This is your life.


*I hate ending posts on a sad note, hopeless-- but the trauma part of my life was like this and I want it to be an accurate reflection of that part of me.

Enduring My Cross

I was studying in the Book of Mormon recently and came across this verse:

But, behold, the righteous, the saints of the Holy One of Israel, they who have believed in the Holy One of Israel, they who have endured the crosses of the world, and despised the shame of it, they shall inherit the kingdom of God, which was prepared for them from the foundation of the world, and their joy shall be full forever. (2 Nephi 9:18)

This verse struck me in a new light when I read it this time. I had always thought of the crosses of the world as the scoffing and ridicule that are endured by the humble followers of Christ. This time, I realized that there is so much more to the crosses of the world. The crosses of the world are the burdens that we must face as a necessary piece of our mortal existence. We all have our burdens to carry. One of my crosses happens to be sexual addiction, but that is by no means the only cross I must endure.

The next phrase is of particular interest to those of us who happen to be enduring a cross of addiction. It is not enough just to bear the cross; we must also despise the shame of it. We are all aware that shame is a huge component of addiction. It is the shame that drives us to secrecy and seclusion. It is the shame that leads to the lies and concealment. It is the shame that keeps us trying to fight on our own. It is the shame that keeps us from reaching out to those who may be able to help. It is the shame that leads us from a slip to a full-blown relapse.

So what does it mean to despise the shame of our cross? The word despise means to regard with contempt,  distaste, disgust, or disdain; scorn; loathe. When we despise the shame of our cross, we turn our backs on the shame. We become open and honest with ourselves and others about the true nature of our cross. This does not mean we necessarily have to tell everyone about our addictions, but we do need to be honest with those who have a right to know (spouse, bishop, etc.).

How do we get to the point of despising our shame? Honestly, I don't know. I'm sure it is different for each person. I do know that learning to despise the shame is an important part of my recovery.

The final piece of this verse is the blessings reserved for those who do learn this lesson, "...they shall inherit the kingdom of God, which was prepared for them from the foundation of the world..." This is a concept that I am still having difficulty grasping. The kingdom of God was prepared for me. The kingdom is not being prepared for me, that's already done. I'm just trying to prove myself worthy to inherit it.

The next blessing is also important for me, "...their joy shall be full forever." I have already tasted of the joy that came when I first started to despise the shame of my cross. The load that was lifted as I made a full confession to my wife and then to my bishop brought even more joy. I want to continue to feel of that joy. I can only imagine what a fullness of joy might be, and to experience that forever is beyond my comprehension at this time.

Until the time when I am able to fully understand the joy that is available to me, I will continue to endure my cross. I will continue to learn to despise the shame of it. I will continue to experience the joy that is available to me now, and I will continue to express my gratitude to my Father and my Savior for allowing me to make this journey.

Living With An Adict's Lies

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

I never dreamed I would live with addicts--that wasn't my "happily ever after"; but in an odd way it has become my happily-ever-today.  I want to share the good and the ugly as I have watched my "addicts."

The Good

The best parts of living with an addict are the moments of candor and honesty.  The times when you can look into each other's soul and really connect and understand the pain the other is facing, the joy they experience and the hope they finally feel.  Watching another grow into the person they really, truly want to be is beautiful.

The Bad

Knowing you have been lied to.  Part of the web of addiction I have had to come to grips with is the network of lies told to protect and hide the truth.  As Edmond explained, the limbic system of the brain avoids pain and seeks pleasure.  Confrontation is pain; lies cover the pain; hide from enough pain and eventually you won't know what is a lie anymore.

Edmond was an exceptionally brilliant liar.  Like Snape of Harry Potter fame, Edmond could hide the truth deep down in his soul.  His cloak of goodness slipped occasionally and I would wonder what was wrong-- what was going on.  I knew that I wanted counseling, but had no idea why and what was really distancing us in our relationship.

Those years of struggle, wonder, and confusion pushed me to question who I was and what I wanted.  I was blessed to have dear friends challenge me to become a better person; not to ignore the issues, but to learn to love and forgive even when I didn't understand.  To open the boxes of pain, share the hurt with my Savior and ask him to take it for me, because I couldn't be the person I wanted when I was storing all my pain and hurt and never forgiving those around me.

Even in the bad, with the love of the Savior in my life, good things happened.  I grew and I loved.  Edmond's desire to change has been the icing on a cake baked in the crucible of hard work and love. (And really, while icing really compliments the cake, a good cake is nothing to turn up your nose about. My growth made the bad not so... well bad.)

The UGLY

Edmond is not the only addict I have lived with.  We hosted Fernand in our home for several months.  For the sake of differentiating the Bad from the UUUUGLY, let me compare Edmond and Fernand.

Edmond is at heart a really good guy!  His moral center is dead on.  He has known his whole life that the addiction that haunts him is a problem and not the way he wants to live. Edmond tried to fight the fight.  Edmond's lies were to hide his pain and suffering.  From what I understand, he lied as little as possible-- he really wanted to do the right thing.  (Note the desire was in the right place, even if the actions were not always following with that desire.)

Fernand was a different story.  Fernand lied to gain advantage and to get what he wanted.  Our communications were filled with stretches of truth, back peddling from statements, promises, blatant disregard for the promises made and lame excuses to justify himself.

I hate to make a distinction with lies-- some being better than others when they all stink-- but really there is a stark difference in the energy, peace, and joy in a home when this malicious kind of lie takes over.

Now, I don't consider myself a love light-wieght.  I can and have loved tough people.  I know that about myself.  Loving Fernand was INCREDIBLY challenging, draining and disheartening. I knew I couldn't control, cajole or force his behavior; all I could do was pray, hope, and watch him make poor choices.

Watching and waiting is painful.  I think WATCHING was the best gift Mary could give her son as He hung on the cross.  To watch with Him, stay beside Him and continue to love as He suffered and died.  Maybe that is the gift we can give to our Fernands.  To watch and love even when it is painful.


Ladies, we can LOVE, really LOVE as we focus on the Love our Savior has for us.  We will fail (been there, done that, doing it again tomorrow).  We will watch others fail.

But Love we can, through the Good, the Bad and the UGLY.