Give All

Today in church we talked about Cherity. It was a good lesson and well taught, but I ended up leaving at the end so I could go have an ugly cry session.
Why? Because this lesson on Cherity triggered something very painful in me. I long for Cherity, the pure love of Christ. I serve every week in my calling at church so that I can develop more of this kind of love. I put aside my own pain every single day so that I can help my addict husband to work through his selfishness. I spend hours talking with him in a kind of therapist role to let him get to the heart of his addiction. I read articles that help me better understand what he is going through. I pray and ponder and draw upon my own experience so that I can better understand him. I am there for my kids to help them through this difficult time in our family. I help others that I know and love who are also going through this painful situation.
So today, hearing about Cherity and how I need to give more, I just broke down.  Today I just felt that I literally have nothing else to give. I felt like I have given it all and how am I suposed to give still?
So I went to my car and I cried. It was ugly. There was makeup and snot and all kinds of nasty. It felt good. I managed to collect myself for the drive home with my kids, and then I went to my closed and cried some more. I cried for a couple of hours. I prayed and I cried, I cried and I prayed. I literally cried till I couldn't cry any more. Mission accomplished! The only way to stop crying is to cry till you can't cry any more. It works!
And after my crying session came to a close, God taught me. The Holy Ghost comforted me and my Heavenly Father taught me. I equate it to a child who throws a massive temper tantrum and the parent just stands by and let's the child get it out. Then, when the child is too tired to cry any more and too tired to fight, the parent steps in and comforts and teaches. The child is more willing to listen at this point. They don't really have any energy not to.
Want to know what I got?
I was told to send a message to a sister in our ward.
I was told to reach out to a friend who is also going through a hard time with her husband.
It didn't make my physical situation any better, but it changed something inside of me. When I focus on how hard my situation is, I enter into that selfish place my husband is stuck in. I see what that has done to him, why would I go there too?
I can't get stuck in that trap. I just can't. I need to get outside of myself and get to work. I need to be the me I was created to be. The person God needs all of us to be. I need to have Cherity. I need the pure love of Christ in my life more than ever right now and this is how it is grown. It comes from the inside out. The world would have you change from the outside in, but not God. He is always changing us from the inside out. That is what the commandments and sacred covenants are really all about. They are to change our very nature.

When the widow cast in her small coin, Christ recognized her offering as the largest offering because she gave all that she had. I need to start seeing my situation in this same light. Yes, I feel like I have nothing left to give, but that is a good thing. That means I have given my all.

Strong Day

Today was a hard day. I just didn't feel strong. I felt weak and overwhelmed and heart broken. Today, I just wanted a friend to come and save me and tell me everything would be okay. That all of these efforts I am making to help my husband through his addiction was going to be well worth my time and effort. I just want a magic wand that I can wave and make everything better.
Sometimes I sit back and wonder why I am doing all of this. Why? Why am I staying with a man I can't even trust? Is this really the best thing for my kids? Is this the life I really want for them?

Yet, every time I just want to give up, scoop my precious children up and walk away, something pulls me back and says "not yet. It's just not time. You can do this a little longer. People can change. God can create miracles."
And so I stay another day. I stay and I usually learn and grow. But I find myself asking why the learning and growth have to be so painful. Why I can't learn through happier means. Why I can't have my spouse be there to help me THROUGH trials instead of BEING the trial. Why my kids have to go through this when I tried so hard to pick a person that would never do this to us.

The answers to all of those questions don't always come. Honestly, they might never come. But I am not being strong for answers. I am being strong for my kids and for my God. The more I go through this painful situation, the more I see how very little everything else really matters. My kids and my God are all that matter to me. They are my life and my joy. They are my peace and my happiness. As long as I have them, I don't need all of the answers of the universe.

Today WAS a hard day, but I am stronger because of it. So I chose to see it as a strong day.
Today was a strong day.

Who I Am

Today was a hard day. It was one of those many days we as women have, where we just feel less than attractive. Where we feel down right ugly. Well, today was one of those days for me. I got away with spending most of the day in my clothes of choice- baggy running pants and a large T-Shirt. But this evening I had to go to the church for a scout event, so I decided I should at least put on some jeans. I did and they made me look fat. You know how that goes. If you feel fat, anything makes you look fat. 

After that, I cleaned up the ponytail look I was sporting all day, and I took one last look in the mirror. I groaned. I looked terrible. I felt terrible. I just didn't want to leave my house. But I needed to be there for my children, so I would go. 

Something most people don't know or understand about the wives of sex addicts is that, though we all have days like these where we feel less than beautiful, the wife of a sex addict feels more validated on these days than on the days she tells herself she looks good. On days where I am up, I can ignore all of the beautiful women my husband lusted after or ran off with, but on days like today when I just feel down right fat and ugly, I have nothing to turn to that tells me otherwise. In fact, I have a lot of things that come to mind that tell me I'm right.  I mean, look at the facts! I was not enough........right? That's why he left.........right? It's because I was ugly..........right? Look how beautiful they were. No wonder he left me for them. 

These are the kinds of comments that haunt the wife of every sex addict. Boy are they painful! 

Where most wives could tell herself, though she might feel fat, her husband loves her anyways, the wife of a sex addict cannot. It's just not the truth for her. (Or at least it doesn't feel like the truth) 

I miss those days! Tonight I just really miss those days when I could get myself out of this self hatered rut by telling myself I was enough because hey, I've got a loving man by my side who is true and faithful to me because he thinks I am something special. Those days are gone for me, but I miss them. Tonight I just really miss them. 

Tonight I don't feel special. Tonight I have lovely voices reminding me I'm not. Voices reminding me of every woman who stole my husbands heart because I was not enough. I see their faces and their bodies that he lusted after, and it feels like a million deaths. 

But it's times like these that I have to remind myself that I am enough for one- my Savior. He knows my heart and He loves me for it. He loves me in the way I truly want to be loved. In the way I crave to be loved. He loves me for WHO I am, not WHAT I am. There is a big difference. Who I am is only seen by really getting to know the me deep down inside. What I am doesn't require a whole lot more than a glance or a few small details. It is easy to see what I am on the surface. (Such as my size or shape, or how my hair is all pulled back in a ponytail that makes me feel totally ugly) 

But who I am requires so much more. It takes effort. Real effort. It is my character. The character I have been building for the past 36 years. All of those goals that I set and accomplished, they are who I am. All of the talents I've developed and shared with others, that is who I am. I am the girl who loves the Lord. I am the girl who has remained true and faithful to her covenants with God, even when it was very hard to do so. I am the girl who is open and honest and blunt. I am that girl. I love to serve and bring joy to others. I love to teach and to be taught. I love to exercise and eat healthy. These are characteristics of who I really am. 

So on days like today, I HAVE to remind myself WHO I am, not WHAT I am. So who am I? I am a daughter of a loving Father in Heaven who knows me and still loves me. For Him, I am enough. For Him, I am beautiful. For Him, all good things are made manifest. 

How thankful I am for that knowledge in my life. I am so thankful for a Father in Heaven who loves me so much and so perfectly. Because of His love for me, I am a survivor. Because of Him, I can endure to the end. Because of Him, I am able to be me and be totally okay with that. Because of Him, I can and will survive this "ugly" days. I am so thankful for that! 

All of this time I have had it so wrong. My worth should never have been even partially dependent on my spouse and his validation. It can and should only be centered on my Savior. He is the only way to true validation and peace in this life. 

Faith

I've been thinking a lot about faith. Faith to move mountains vs Faith to just get through another day. I think I have focused so much of my faith on the belief that we live in hard times and it's going to be even worse at the last days. And I am gearing myself up for those last day hard times. I mean, we are talking earth quakes, tempests, and famine.  And I'm getting ready for it. I'm strengthening my faith for those "hard times" when I will need it the most. You know, when the great divide takes place and half of the members will be foolish and half will be wise, I'm determined to be on that wise side.

But I am learning that I have to prepare more so for those day to day trials. Those day to day famines that take place in our lives. The loss of a loved one to an addiction is very much like a great famine. It is very much an earth shaking experience. Did I prepare enough for these day to day signs that we live in hard times? Is my faith sufficiently strong to sustain me through daily gut wrenching spiritual and emotional pain? It hasn't come in the way I had expected it to, but it is here nonetheless. Am I prepared? Is my faith sufficient to carry me through this?
My husband is also in the thick of this spiritual famine. The world is telling him to feed himself from things that will never satisfy. His choosing a spiritual anorexia over spiritual abundance.
But am I allowing myself to also be caught in this famine? Am I getting the spiritual nourishment I so desperately need?

If the answer is "I hope so," I have a lot of work to do. That answer will only get me so far. I need to be firm in the faith of Christ. I need that perfect brightness of hope. I need to see this trial in my life for what it is- signs of the times.

Am I ready? Can I get through this and maintain my faith in Christ? If the answer is anything but a resounding "yes!" I have work to do within the walls of my own soul.

No Rhyme or Reason

When I started this blog, I was wanting to focus on a story line. I wanted to go through my story in order and really process it. But the more I work my own recovery, the more I realize that my brain doesn't deal with betrayal trauma in a liner pattern like that. My head is all over the place, from the first few years and what I need to deal with there, to the now.
One day I deal with feelings of betrayal about something I remember from 10 years ago, and the next day I am hurting because of something from last year.

So I have decided to just journal my feelings and the day to day events as they come. If they are feelings or events that deal with 10 or 12 years ago, I will process them here. If they are things that I am dealing with right now, I will deal with them as well.

I have to let these emotions and feelings live, be acknowledged, be processed, and then die. That is the only way I will get through this Hell I now find myself in. It is the only way I will be able to remember and record all of the many things I am learning right now.

Healing is not just about my emotional self. It is about how I am doing emotionally, physically and spiritually. My husbands addiction has very much affected all three of these areas in my life and I need to make sure that I am addressing all three. If not, I will not heal. Not completely. I might give the appearance of healing, but if it is not complete, it is not lasting.

So I will be journaling my journey toward healing. My journey toward physical, spiritual and emotional health. It will not be a journey alone. God has been with me every step of the way and I know He will continue to be with me to prompt and guide me. God has helped me to see that this is the only way toward complete healing. And as I have learned so many times, God does not lie. This is about me and my relationship to my Savior.

I cannot trust Mr. Broken, but I can trust God.

So I will be working daily or sometimes just weekly. (or as close as I can come to a consistent journal post)
It is time to heal, to forgive and to move forward. Even if they are baby steps, forward is still forward.

You Can Do Two More Miles

This past weekend was good for me. (which I have learned to appreciate more than I used to. Good days are hard to come by sometimes when you are stuck in trauma)

I met a dear friend at a Time Out For Women (TOFW) event and we spent two days getting our emotional and spiritual buckets filled. (I may touch on some of the things I learned there, later)

I had to drive quite a ways to drop my kids off at my parent's house and then head over to TOFW. So when the event was over, I was going to meet my parents and kids at a hotel, stay the night, then head home the next day. (my parents were so sweet and got the hotel for us)

BUT, before I met them, and right after TOFW, I typed the address to the hotel into my GPS. I was on a spiritual high! I had just filled my spiritual and emotional bucket at TOFW and I felt like I could totally do this whole crazy marriage to a sex addict thing. And then I got a text from Mr. Broken that changed everything. He had issues while I was gone. Nothing big, but he tried to make it look better than it was and that bothered me. I was instantly tired and upset. So as I was driving, I started talking to God. (because we had just learned at TOFW about the power of praying out loud to God and how that changes chemicals in our brains and bonds us with God. Such cool stuff!)

So I was driving and talking to God. I was telling him I can't go down this road with my husband any more. Not one. More. Inch! This road looks too dark and is too long and too hard. I am tired of confessions and manipulations and lying from someone I have been trying to help. This road is too hard.

All the sudden, the GPS on my phone went crazy. (I didn't know it till later though) It told me "in two miles, continue on I-151"  and then started the 2 mile count down. So naturally I was thinking there must be some kind of fork in the road and I would need to know to stay on I-151.

I got to the 2 mile mark and there was NOTHING. Not even an exit. Just straight highway. And then the GPS showed another 2 miles and said "in two miles, continue on I-151"

Again, I thought "well, maybe it forks off or something. And once again, nothing!! It just put another 2 miles on to my journey and said "in 2 miles continue on I-151"

FOR ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILES IT DID THIS. EVERY TWO MILES!!!

I even turned off the phone and put the address in again, thinking it was just messed up and it could be rebooted. Nope! It still did this every two miles.

And then the spirit jumped in and I was taught. God even used the same analogy I spit out at Him. He gave it right back. This road is long. It does feel unbearable. I can't go down this road and not feel overwhelmed. BUT, God is with me every step, every inch, every mile of the way. And He knows I can do two miles. I CAN do two miles! And when I am done with those two miles, He is right there telling me to continue on. I can do another two miles. And then another. And another. And He is there every two miles telling me to "continue on" He is there cheering me on. He is there giving me strength and hope and support. He is trying to help me do this one step at a time so I don't get overwhelmed. And He is there with me, telling me when it is time to stop or time to turn. He is guiding me. I don't need to fear or be overwhelmed about this journey as long as I am letting him guide me.

I really needed that. Yes, this road feels so long and overwhelming and painful, but we are not alone. We have a loving Heavenly Father who is standing RIGHT there with us on this journey, and he is telling us to "continue on" so that we don't have to feel lost. And if we need to stop going down this road we are on with our lovely sex addicts, God will tell us to stop and turn.

And something else I love about this journey I am on is that God puts people into my life that also cheer me on and give me the strength to "continue on."

I am so thankful that God will never have me do this journey alone.

Like Joseph of Egypt

I really can't remember if it had been just a few hours or a few days at my parent's house, but I got a call from Mr. Broken. It was all such a blur to me. Trauma does that to you. It makes everything fuzzy and you are trapped in fight or flight. Survival is all that matters, not the little details that healthy people pay attention to or have the energy to enjoy.

But he called. He had a "confession" to make. There was more. My heart sank and I felt this painful burning in my chest. Like something really bad was about to hit me.

He made a confession that would later change at least 4 more times in both its description and its severity. Each time getting worse and worse. Each time killing me just a little bit more. Each time making me trust him less and less. (as if I needed more reasons not to trust him)

For the first 2 confessions about this particular incident, he would end it by telling me that he "ran away like Joseph of Egypt." for the rest of the "corrections" in this confession, that part kind of dropped off...........for good reason. He was nothing like Joseph of Egypt in this situation. He didn't run away at all.

I actually love the story of Joseph of Egypt. It is one of my favorite Bible stories. I love the lessons it teaches about commitment to God, and forgiveness to those who wrongfully use you and persecute you.

My husband was nothing like Joseph of Egypt, but I knew I needed to be. I needed to make sure that his addiction and the betrayal of our covenants didn't give me reason or excuse to do the same. That I still needed to stay true to the covenants I have made to God, even if my spouse didn't.
I knew that eventually I would need to find the strength and ability to forgive my husband, and to forgive his parents who have wrongly taken his side and left me bleeding on the floor. I knew that now more than ever, I needed to listen to the spirit guide and direct me. And it has. All of the corrections that ended up taking place about my husband's confession over the next few months, would come out due to the spirit prompting me that something was not correct and that I needed to go back to Mr. Broken, and to this story, to find out the truth. And every time I listened to the spirit and acted on those promptings, there was information that he had left out or things that needed to be addressed.

The spirit does not lie. God does not lie. My husband DOES lie.
Like Joseph of Egypt, I will trust in my God. Like Joseph of Egypt, I will need to have a forgiving heart. Like Joseph of Egypt, God will bless me for running from the temptations to break my covenants just because my husband did. Like Joseph of Egypt, I will serve well in the prison I am now in, knowing that one day I will be free and have great success in life, aside from my husband's addiction. I don't have to be broken forever.

The Hangover

It's amazing to me, how many tender mercies the Lord gives to those who suffer. His love and his power have been with me through so many difficult times in my life, and this was no exception.

I woke up the day after D-Day (which really wasn't the only D-day, but I didn't know this yet) and I was numb. Like I had just swallowed a whole bottle of pain killers kind of numb. I mean I couldn't feel anything!
But I was still a mom and I had to get one of my boys over to his scout day camp meeting. It was just down the street, but I couldn't walk. I was too numb. So I drove.
I stood with all of the other mom's, waiting for all of the scouts to arrive so the boys could take off. The other moms looked happy. It was Saturday morning and they were glad to see their boy head out for the day so they could have some time to themselves. They visited with each other and laughed at each other's Saturday morning hair.

Not me.
I felt nothing.

I was there in body only, but inside, I was far, far away. Like I was locked up in some vault to keep me protected from further damage. I could not be touched. It sounds strange, but I do count that as one of the Lord's tender mercies. If I had been able to feel, I might not have made it through those 10 minutes of waiting time with all of those sweet women. If I had been able to feel, I might have lost it, causing my son and myself a whole lot of humiliation and lots of questioning. Questions I just couldn't even answer myself. I needed that protection. I am thankful for it.

I think we often attribute a lot of feelings to the spirit and to Christ and his love for us. But on that Saturday, back in June, I attribute the lack of feeling to the spirit and Christ's love for me. It hurt too much to go through it alone. And as I would come to find out, He let me feel this numbing until I was safe and with people who could help me through the pain. Only then would I feel again. A tender mercy indeed.

After my son got back from Scout day camp, I packed what I could, collected my 6 children and drove the 11 hours to my parent's house. I was still numb. Once in a while a few tears would flow, but it felt like something was blocking the flood of feelings I had felt just 24 hours earlier. It was a long drive, But because I was numb it went by very quickly.

Once I got to my parent's house, I got my kids settled. They had no idea why we were there and I was glad. I put them to bed and then slipped away to the family room to talk to my parents. And then I felt again. Everything. Every part of my soul was hurting. As I related my situation to my parents, the shaking came back. I was cold again. My teeth were chattering. My body was in full blown trauma, but I was surrounded by people who loved me. I was safe.
Another tender mercy.

D-Day

My whole body was shaking. It was like I had no control over it. It was not a cold night, it was actually a warm, humid June evening, yet I was freezing. I just needed a blanket. Maybe that would stop the shaking and teeth chattering. I got a blanket, but it didn't help. Nothing could help the cold darkness I felt inside. I felt instantly broken.

I find it amazing how the body copes with trauma. You don't have to tell it to do a thing and it jumps right into gear after hearing a few terrifying bits of information. That was my experience that night back in June. I was in shock and I didn't know what to do. But my body did. I instantly went into survival mode. Eating and sleeping were not an option. My mind was racing in circles, trying to process everything that I had just got slammed with. Every ounce of energy was going toward this one purpose: To figure out what went wrong. How did I become the wife of a cheater?

It all didn't make sense. I was a good wife. I gave him 6 beautiful children. I stayed in amazing shape during and quickly after each pregnancy. (not that the lack of these things would have been reason enough to cheat on me. but in my simple little mind, I thought it would surly help) I made sure I had plenty of sexy things to wear for him in the bedroom. And speaking of the bedroom, I was there! I never had a headache and was never "too tired." In fact, I think I initiated intimacy just as much as he did, if not more. I was not a nagging wife. I kept the house spotless. I made his meals and packed him lunches to take to work every day. We went on weekly date nights and I got flowers on a regular basis. Mr. Broken would even write me little love notes every day before leaving for work. He was a complete gentleman. He opened my doors and pulled out my chairs for me. He held my hand and kissed it when we were together. When I needed a break from the kids, he was all over it and let me get out. We both went to church regularly and served in our various callings. We were both frugal and paid off all of our debts quickly after getting married. We were a good team.....weren't we?
He wouldn't want to cheat on me............would he?

My mind just couldn't make sense of it all. How did I go to bed one night with the man I had spent 11 years of my life with, the man I had 6 babies with, and the man I thought I knew better than anyone else, only to wake up to a complete stranger the next day?

My body and mind just couldn't make any sense of it. It must be a bad dream. It all must be just a very bad dream. That's the only explanation I could come up with. If I just force myself to go to bed alone, while this monster pretending to be my husband sleeps on the couch, I will wake up and it will all be gone in the morning.

And so I went to bed. Alone. With a monster on my couch.