#YesAllWomen

I have some other (happier) things I've been wanting to write about but I think that'll have to wait a bit.  The end of the school year gets so busy with kids!

Anyway... in light of the trending of the #YesAllWomen that I was just reading about , I wanted to chime in real quick.  I'm not on twitter and I feel like it's a bit much for just a facebook post.

I am shocked at how many of the hashtags I relate to and can understand and empathize with.
I don't know why it shocks me anymore.

I find the timing particularly of note as I have been working through owning my stories of rape these last few weeks.

That's right.

The R word.

My experiences and responses to the #YesAllWomen would be something along these lines....

- Because pornography viewing at a friends' home at a very early age put into my mind that rape and violence were a normal part of a relationship between a man and a woman and even something to fantasize about.

- Because a close family member, whose opinion was of high value to me, told me that it was the woman's fault if she was sexually assaulted or taken advantage of and that a husband deserved whatever he wanted from his wife.

- Because when the 8th grader put his hands under my clothes he said it was what I wanted, and I believed him even though I didn't feel that way.
And then when the 11th grader (me in 10th) grabbed me and tried to force things further, he said that I was asking for it because of how I was dressed (a flesh colored shirt).  I believed him too.  I didn't speak up and someone thankfully showed up just in the nick of time, but I showered and threw that shirt away and haven't been able to wear a similarly colored shirt since.
Because the 11th grader said I asked for it by simply showing up, being me, when he tried to rape me- with his friend watching and laughing.  I will still never understand how I got away, but feel grateful that I did.  Because the shame of these things and the belief that I had brought them upon myself, not that these boys were fully responsible for their own actions, shut my mouth and closed off a part of me for far too long.

- Because the trap of pornography teaches men (and women for that matter), good men, that this is what women want.... to be dominated or abused or even just plain used.  They may be so wrapped up in the web of lies that are being fed them and reinforced through chemical responses in our brain, that they don't even recognize the inherit lie being sold.... That we are all individuals.  That each person is a person.  Male or female.   Each deserves to be treated as a human being, not as an object.  Not as a thing to be used.  A marriage does not provide opportunity because it does not mean that the other person is your property.  Marital relationships are not grounds for 'anything goes'.  The idea that a woman must service her husband to fulfill his need for sex or that she must do something she feels uncomfortable with because that is the way to show love, is a falsehood.

- Because people can change and patterns passed through generations can be stopped and changed.  There must be a communication.  There must be a conversation had about these unhealthy attitudes we have been taught, fed, or have been propagating ourselves.  There must be victims and perpetrators alike, willing to be brave and courageous and share their stories.  So many people think their stories are so far beyond hope and so unique to them.  So many stories, when shared, are found to have so many similar patterns to them.

- Because even rereading this I know (or maybe just fear) that some will say that it was my fault....that I was asking for whatever came to me because I'd had that reel playing through my mind from the age of six from that video I was made to watch.  And the part of me that hears the voices of society and struggles with Satan's tricky words wonders if maybe they are right....maybe I secretly wanted it and put myself in those situations for some sick and twisted reasons.  Because even if that was the case, I deserved and still deserve better.  My victimization from a young age at the hands of someone else may have led to further victimization of myself by myself, but that doesn't make me a bad person or an object nor does it justify those boys' actions.

- The first time I went to a therapist she asked me why I was there and what I hoped to get out of being there.  My answer was "I have realized that there is a pattern among the women in my family of being abused by men in their lives and I do not want to pass that on to my daughter.  It stops with me."

Read some of those hashtags and tell me you don't see it too.

This is my story that I own.  I won't let shame own it any longer.

In defense of my former self

Dear Self;

You lived a life that many didn't see.  One that even you didn't fully come to terms with and allow yourself to see until you were almost 30.  It's time to let it all out and see that it is okay.  Everyone has baggage.  Everyone has skeletons in the closet.  Some have more than others.  That's okay.  It doesn't mean you were bad or deserved any less.  It doesn't meant that you had to learn lessons the hard way or that you were a tool being used by God to learn a lesson you could share with others.  You suffered the consequences of other's agency for many years and didn't realize that's all it was.  You took it out on God, not fully trusting Him, because you thought He was using you.  You were happy to submit to Him.  At least He loved you.  You wanted to do good and be good and so you willingly became His martyr, His victim, His tool to help others because you knew that you would share and be empathetic...because that's who you are.  This was the only reality you knew.  This was how you understood things and thus how you lived your life for decades.  You know what? It's okay.

You were molested.  More than once.  By different people.  They told you that 'you asked for it' and 'deserved it.'

You were forced to watch explicit pornography as a kindergartner by your friend's dad.  The same friend who you used to have sleepovers with and where you developed a nervousness for sleeping with the door closed and waiting for someone to come in.  The same one you would hide in the berry bush with.


You grieved the sudden loss of your grandma that you adored when you were in 6th grade.
You didn't understand how to process the pain.  You didn't want to be sad because you didn't want to make your mom sad and have her hurt more.
Two years later you grieved the sudden loss of a boy you had a crush on that lived near you and rode the bus with you.  You were confused why you hurt so much again.  You were tired of feeling like an inconvenience to those who were supposed to love you unconditionally and tired of feeling like something to be used by everyone else.  You took more pills than you were supposed to of a drug that you reacted badly to in a half-hearted attempt to end your life so you could be with your grandma in a happy place again.  Your friend, bless her heart, told on you and dragged you to the school psychologist...who told on you to your mom....who thankfully wasn't mad or even overly sad.
Two years later you grieved the loss of another schoolmate in an accident you saw from your house.

Two years later, you buried your mom a month after graduating high school.
You wondered what lesson it was that you were missing that you kept losing all these people in your life.

You were nearly raped.  You still aren't sure how you got out of that, only that you remember the boy's friend watching and laughing and the boy saying "this is what you came here for anyway isn't it?" and you thought it was punishment for lying to your parents about where you were going.  You thought maybe this was just how boys showed they like you and maybe you should just learn to like it.  Except that other boy standing there laughing was a big red flag and you somehow came to your senses and got out.

You spent many years having dreams that haunted you and made you feel dirty and guilty.  They were out of your control but they controlled how you felt. It wasn't until your late teens that you recognized it was a replaying of those scenes you saw as a kindergartner.  It wasn't until your late 20s that you understood it wasn't your fault.

After your mom died, you had night terrors where you dreamed you or some other family member killed her.  Your brother accused you of causing her brain aneurysm because the day before you had pulled her over in a low-lying lawnchair as part of a family joke and she hit her head.  You wondered if he was right.  You wondered if other people thought the same.  Even after 2 neurologists told you it was a ticking time bomb and your actions wouldn't have set it off any sooner.  You wondered if she 'left' because you told her in the hospital that day (not that you even know if she could hear you) that you understood she missed her mom and you would take care of things on this end so she could go and that you'd understand and it would be okay. Would she have stayed if you had been more willing to fight?

Your dad didn't talk to you for years because he was upset that you said he didn't love you in an upset middle-schooler fight.  He thought you owed him an apology for your disrespect.  You thought he was just confirming your accusations and should try to make you feel loved.  You were a middle-schooler after all.

The boys in 5th grade made fun of you during the pledge of allegiance, saying you were grabbing yourself because you were already developing.

The boys in 8th grade cat-called you if you ever wore a skirt or low-cut shirt.  It made you feel important.

The boys in high school apparently said you were an amazing kisser and talked about you.  So you found out later from a friend who had kissed you, and then told you that was why.

You caught your 2 best friends in high school trying on your (size 9) pants and dancing around laughing at your 'clown pants'.

You overheard your parents fighting about you being in summer school PE, which you thought was just so you would be able to take art class during the school year instead, and there being ice cream in the house.  You heard your dad liken you to a whale and say that the ice cream shouldn't be around.
In your anger and hurt, you called a friend and decided to try pot to see what all the fuss was about and to really piss him off like he had hurt you.  It was a one-day, one-experience kind of thing but the effect was that he again no longer spoke to you except during choir practice- because he was the choir director and you were the pianist....even though that was the only time he went to church, or at least anything more than the occasional Sacrament meeting.

In high school, you got a concussion so bad that you couldn't remember how to do simple math and couldn't read a page in a book without falling asleep.

You saw your best friend get attacked by a dog right next to you when you were 4 years old.  You felt bad that it was her and not you because you didn't want her to hurt like that.


People told you that you shouldn't be sad.  People told you that you were being a victim and should stop.  People told you that it was all your fault.  You didn't even know you were sad. You didn't even recognize the pattern of victimization.  You thought it was your fault.

It wasn't true.

Self, you were victimized.  You were used by others and not by God.  You had hard things in your life.  More than many can understand in such a short time.  It doesn't mean you were deserving of those things.  It doesn't make you special.  It means you were strong.  You survived.  You, and God, have turned these things for your good.

These things do not define you, and yet they are you.  Being a new and better person doesn't mean that you were a bad person before.  It doesn't invalidate or lessen the worth of your self at any given stage in your life.  You are simply at a different point in your life now.  You are here because of what you've been through but you might have been here even without them.  You might not be here without them.  You could be in a different place, a much worse place, because of all this.  You needn't feel bad.  You are strong.  You are a survivor.  You have hurt and you have tried to take care of yourself and you have tried to protect yourself...all the best you could and the best you knew how with what you had at the time.  You really did try your best with what you had and what you understood and where you were in your life.

I know, because I am you.
And it's okay.

Don't worry about what other's judgments have been or what they may be.  Don't worry about those who've been unkind.  Don't wish these things on them either.  Don't think you willingly took these things upon yourself so that you would learn or so that you would get others to feel sorry for you in an attempt to feel loved.  No, that's not the way.  You've let it go and given it over.  You are a new person but loving yourself now doesn't mean not loving yourself then.  There is someone who gets that, and in the end He is all that matters.

Love,
Me.

a little history lesson

I've been contacted recently by a few people who have wanted some more background on my relationship with my husband and the struggles we have gone through.  There is some of it on this blog in further years back, but I realize not everyone reads older posts and even still there are a lot of holes there because I wasn't writing regularly at the time.

Although this happened a few years ago and although some of you may know some who are involved, I am sharing it out of a greater concern for those who I know need to hear this.  Those who know my husband and his family, I trust to respect the privacy of those involved and to withhold judgement.  This is the story of 'the situation' (as referenced in earlier posts) as I have told it to some recently.  This was a major turning point and I feel that all of us involved have improved and found blessings since:

The Situation
AKA When I got my impression that divorce was okay

First, you have to know the background....The nature of living in Las Vegas and being in the air conditioning industry means sometimes early mornings and late hours, especially during the summertime. So sometimes he'd tell me he was going to be home late or sometimes he'd go in early to unload a truck or get some things done before things got crazy once they opened.

Well, it turns out that's where he was 'using'. My husband is different than most in that his primary porn source is actually literature. That's a whole lot harder to block with a filter. It's also a lot easier to disguise at work. It isn't that the pictures don't do it for him or that he never looks at them...but it is something about the living vicariously through the stories....

So at the warehouse my kids sometimes run around and dad gives them rides on the forklift and that sort of thing. I don't recall how far into the whole recovery thing we were when I was walking around the warehouse while my boys played and came upon a sort of desk area that the warehouse workers (2 guys that he is over) had set up. There was a desk covered in pictures. Not the worst I've seen but the kind you'd find in GQ or Maxim.

To say I was livid would be an understatement. Here he was telling me he was doing so good, going to recovery meetings, trying his best....and there is THIS at work? And I'm supposed to believe him?! How is he EVER supposed to be ok while that is there? Why is he, or his dad or ANY of the other LDS guys he works with okay with letting that be there? How do they expect the business to be successful (economy hasn't been so great here) and have the blessing of Heavenly Father while they allow THAT? How did he expect to build any kind of trust?

And my son, who was turning 8 in a few months, had seen it all. So I was doubly livid.

Pretty sure I kicked him out again at that point. I could go ask him but he'd probably say "I try to block all that out of my mind."

This caused me major trouble. On the one hand I felt like he was doing well and he was choosing to go to meetings, saying how they help, doing steps and making personal changes I could see. On the other it felt like asking an alcoholic to work in a bar.

I felt like every day was this battle with Satan in my head. Like a full blown exhausting war was being waged within me and I hated it.

So he promised me that this desk will be gone. For weeks and months he tells me he has bugged this person or that person about needing to get rid of it. One person or another claims that they will but then they don't do anything. At that point he's still dealing with being major shame-based so he is having a hard time with how to say what but I say 'too bad, you better figure it out.' How was I supposed to believe that he was even saying anything to anyone anyway?

I kept trying to put my foot down, and being a situation involving others I didn't know at what point to draw what line. I had already drawn a boundary that no early or late hours or after hours weekend calls would be allowed and I was immensely grateful for the support received on that and lack of any fighting back about it.  The company was moving their warehouse and he assured me that he was assured by the guys that the desk would not be making the move. So I opted to wait and see. He told me after the move that he was so mad at them because there it was and he was upset that he wasn't respected (which has been his issue at work and part of his background with his addiction) and nobody would take him seriously etc. I didn't know whether to believe and trust that he was genuinely as upset by this as I, or if he was trying to cover his tracks because he knew I'd look for it as soon as I visited him at work.

I continued to let it go for a little while after it but it was a serious thorn in my side and I needed it out. After praying I finally I needed to take matters into my own hands. I might not have any right to do anything at his place of employment, but I do have the right to say something to his boss if his boss is his father and I wasn't okay with letting that stay there. So I wrote a letter to both of his parents. I explained to them what he had told me of his version of the story, and my feelings about it. I told them how he needed to feel that he was supported by his family and that this was a way that could be done. Then I told them my feelings- that I was prepared to give him an ultimatum: me, the job, or the desk - and that I hoped that as his parents they would not want him to be in that position and that I did not want to have to find out the answer.

His dad got rid of the desk and my husband was FURIOUS with me. Seriously, I have seen him mad at other people but I have never seen him mad at me like that- before or since. He felt I went behind his back and was completely out of line. I refused to apologize. He quit talking to me. Of course this only fanned flames of doubt in my mind. If he was really making good choices then why would he react in such a way?That was when I went to the temple out of desperation because I was so confused about how to act, react, interpret...everything. I got a very distinct impression that I had 'done my part' finally- made every sacrifice possible to show my personal humility and willingness to put things in the Lord's hands and stood up for what was right...and that if I did not see changes in DH it would be okay to get a divorce because the Lord said I had made every effort on my end.

I was shocked, scared, and relieved to get that impression. And it sent me into a tailspin where I gained 10 lbs in less than a month but that's a different story.

What's interesting though is that the very next week we went to the counselor together. I told him about the feeling I got at the temple. He finally talked about how my actions with the letter made him feel. We still didn't come to an agreement but it was as though my eyes were suddenly opened and I could see the broken man that he was who was just trying to do his best. It wasn't good enough in my book but it was all he had at that point in time. And that is why we are not divorced. I needed to be willing to completely give it all over (in my tailspin I had to finally reach the point where I accepted and acknowledged that inspiration and felt truly willing to take that next step even with all the fears and uncertainty- and judgement from others- that would come with it) I think now that I needed the Lord's validation of my feelings and path in the prompting I got at the temple. Feeling that validation scared me to death (like I was afraid of my own power or control of the situation) but led me to self-examination that led me to humility that allowed my eyes to be more fully opened.

^THAT actually was the point at which I realized *I* had a problem. It makes me sad that it wasn't enough for me to change then but I accept now that it was and is a process. There have been bumps along the road for me personally since that time and I needed those experiences to teach me to help shape me to who I am now.

Something interesting that I learned is that we sometimes 'pad' ourselves. Quite frequently those who have eating disorders (on both ends of the spectrum) are unconsciously (or even consciously) trying to make themselves 'disappear'. The anorexic wants to become so small that she isn't noticed so nobody thinks to hurt her. The overweight wants to become undesirable so that nobody hurts or uses her anymore. I would add that the married to a porn addict or struggling with a marriage wants to make herself undesirable to her husband so that she doesn't have to deal with his advances while trying to detach or while trying to figure things out. OR she wants to 'feel stuck' as though no one else would want her because she feels like damaged goods or feels afraid of her own empowerment. Those are all feelings that I have felt.

dreaming big

A year ago my husband and I had this dream.  We decided to open up a shop on Etsy as a way to hopefully pay for our hobbies and, if we were lucky, maybe even earn some extra money for Christmas and paying off debt and fun stuff etc.  See, DH had gotten into woodworking as an alternative healthy habit instead of turning to his pornography addiction.  It was a healthy outlet and he found he was actually pretty good at it.  He always thought of me as the creative one in the family (since I've been involved with art since my elementary school days) but now he was finding he was good at this and it provided him immense satisfaction and joy to make things for other people that they found joy and appreciation is.  All our tools have been hand-me-downs though so we hoped that we could at least earn enough money to be able to buy him some better tools and to fund his doing this hobby just for fun.  Same with me and doing art.  It's a difficult thing when you know that there is a healthy and useful outlet and even a talent you've been given that you long to improve and share with others...but you feel guilty because there is an associated cost to it and money is tight and the kids come first.  You know.  Anyway, so we started an Etsy shop and a FB page for it a few months later, for those reasons.

I haven't thought much of where we wanted to take this until recently when goals and aspirations have been on my mind a lot more.  It has always been our hope to at the very least be able to utilize it to come up with extra cash for Christmas and family vacations.  I am happy to say that we were able to do both this last year.  It was a tremendous, and miraculous, blessing.  Additionally, even being able to do this- to have this shop up and running- is a direct results of having lost our home, of my husband's addiction recovery, of many trials that have now been turned for our good.  Our new home has a shop...an extra room off the garage that is perfect for him.  There was a girls' camp fundraiser shortly after we moved in that gave him the idea to try making a few things to donate.  Those were so well-received that it gave him the confidence and encouragement to make that next step.  See how the Lord works?  He is amazing.

So the Heavens have opened lately.  That is how I feel.  I feel overwhelmed and blown away at how blessed we are.  I believe wholeheartedly that my Heavenly Father has been wanting to bless our lives but that because He too is also bound by law, He has been unable to do so to the extent He has desired so long as we were still in addiction.  As we have worked to improve our relationship with Him, to more fully turn our lives over to Him, to do the hard work of facing our weaknesses and trying to make them our strengths....He blesses us!  He blesses us so much!  I feel like I am still so far from perfect- like in the simple stuff of daily scripture study and prayer every single day- and yet He blesses me!  All I can figure is that He knows where my heart is and he wants me to run to Him.  He wants to show me that He really is there, He really does love me in all my imperfectness, and He really does want awesome things for me and is willing to help me have those if I am willing to work.

I feel so empowered when I think of this.  I think how just such a short time ago I was acting upon just a glimpse of a desire.  I wasn't sure that this Beachbody thing would work but I had a small enough desire to give it a change.  I was afraid of admitting to and facing an eating disorder, but I had just a glimmer of a hope that the change I saw in my husband could happen with me.

I haven't lost a ton of weight and yet I am finally able to envision that other me.  The fit and healthy and unstoppable me.  I see her again.  I couldn't find her for a long time.  I don't feel that it's like I'm some suddenly different person.  I see it more as having been in a place of light for so long that my eyes had adjusted and I didn't see just how much brighter it could be.....I didn't realize not all the lights were on, until they were on.  It's tasting that delicious fruit of the tree of life and wanting to share it with others because you didn't realize how much you were missing out on.

I have this way secret desire for my husband to be able to follow his dreams and passions while supporting our family.  Secretly he has always wanted to be a helicopter pilot, and he loves working with his hands.  Wouldn't it be amazing if he could actually be a woodworker and a helicopter pilot?  Wouldn't he be that much more amazing by feeling that much more fulfilled?  I can actually see that happening now.  I don't know if it will...but I do believe it can if he really wants it.

Why the change?

Those blessings.
God makes anything possible.  Gratitude makes more possible.  Humility allows God to work through us and pour out Heaven on our heads.

And because we have changed.
We have struggled for so long.... health and finances in particular.  I see a light at the end of that tunnel at last.  I heard it all.... I was blamed for our health struggles.  I was told I was a hypochondriac.  I was told it was my fault that my kids had allergies or asthma and that if I just was a better mother, or more clean or fed them better then we would all be better.  We were blamed for finances beyond our control.  Were there decisions we could have made better?  Were there bad choices made?  Absolutely.  Was it our fault when the job market crashed and a second job wasn't to be found?  Was it our fault when DH unexpectedly became too sick to hold a second job?  Were we responsible for the housing market crashing just as we were selling our house and moving into another that we had already calculated an appropriate amount of debt according to the income that was supposed to be coming in soon?  Nope.  Could we have done that differently?  Sure....but we wouldn't have had the trial of our faith and learned the lessons we did in those years that followed.  When DH's problem very first came out, many many years ago and before I realized it was an addiction rather than a problem, he had just lost his job and we were living off our savings.  I couldn't understand why we weren't blessed with a job or this or that when we were trying so hard.... and then when I found out about that I blamed him.  How could we expect blessings when he wasn't living worthy of them.  Sadly, it is often the consequence of life as an addict or as one married to an addict.  It is the consequence of being married to someone breaking their marital covenants.  It is a sad fact that we suffer the consequences of another's actions in a way that other's see without seeing the whole picture, without seeing the backstory that we know.  So it is.  It is also a beautiful and miraculous thing when the Lord is able to use those things for our good as He has for us.....over a lot of time and difficulty.
Please be aware of that when you are making observations of another's situation....health, finances, happiness, trials and joy.  You just don't know.  

DH received a message from a customer yesterday.  This is someone whom he had made this beautiful journal for them to write letters to their child in.  A friend from high school (who I admittedly had sort of mixed feelings about because they'd been really close when we were starting to date and I had some jealousy issues there).  That's beside the point though. ;)  She apparently visited a local Vegas attraction where some wooden items were being sold that were somewhat similar to items she knew we sold.  She asked to speak with the gift shop's buyer and then told them about DH's wooden journals and other wooden items as well as his history as a LV native and more.  According to the message received from the customer, the buyer is extremely interested in DH's stuff and wants to talk about carrying it in the gift shop.  Are you serious?!  Dream big people.  Dream big.  Things can happen.  Put it out there.  I have long since admired a friend of mine who is making a living as an artist.  I remember just a few years ago when she made her first sale on Etsy.  Watching her success (she now has artwork being used as signs at Target and has designed makeup packaging and been featured in magazines etc) has encouraged me to dream ... but I've still always sort of seen that as happening to 'other people' and not us.  Our life was destined to be 'this way'.  Nope.  That was a lie Satan was telling us to rob of us our hope and blessings from God.  Why do we put limits on ourselves.  Limits are not there until we put them there.  Children do not know limits until we tell them.  God works the same way with us.  Dream big for your own sake.  Don't judge the smaller dreams or seemingly smaller successes of others.  You don't know what's underneath.

not sure the source on this one, sorry. was shared in my challenge group today

the time we were almost on a talk show

It was December 2011.

I was driving with my kids out to Red Rock for a spur of the moment excursion.  My phone rang and the screen showed it was my husband's therapist, our marriage counselor.  We hadn't been there for months.  My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach wondering what he could be calling about.

He needed my help with something.  Phew! I seriously had it run through my mind that DH was in some sudden and unexpected trauma and called him instead of me but was serious enough to warrant the therapist calling me.  He was scheduled to appear on a national talk show as an expert in the field to discuss sexual addiction and the couple he was still regularly treating that had agreed to do it had backed out at the last minute.  Would we be willing to do that?  Could he give my number to the producer for the show so that she could give me a call and give me more information?

Blank.

That was about where my mind went.  Thankfully I had just arrived at the parking lot so I didn't have to keep trying to drive with this shock.  My initial reaction was what I believe it would still be...."I will happily do anything to help educate and provide hope for others."  Admittedly my very second reaction, that I kept to myself, was 'I cannot go on national television looking the way I do' and I was overwhelmed with shame about body and immediately had the old demons of 'people will say it is my fault, that if I were just more attractive or skinnier etc then my husband wouldn't have this problem.' False.  This was why this national conversation needed to be had.

Obviously our counselor understood the need to talk it over.  He encouraged me to have a discussion with DH and get back to him the next day.  However, time was also of the essence as they were supposed to be taping this show really soon.  It also meant that we would need to quickly decide whether we even could get away for a couple of days to NYC.  After all, we do have 4 kids that would need to be watched and a job that would need to be okay with a last minute vacation of sorts.

I still get a little anxious thinking about this.  I can feel my heart racing just as it did at the thought of being on Anderson Cooper.  That's right....Anderson Cooper.  Admittedly, I hadn't seen his talk show at all but I knew his reputation as a news reporter.  If it had been probably any other talk show I would likely have not considered it (okay, Ellen is dang funny and Dr Phil I'd hope would have a good take on things).  However, Anderson Cooper seemed to be more about integrity than flair and facts than show.  So I agreed to talk it over with DH and had already determined in my mind that I would do it.

The 12th step in the ARP and PASG manual says "Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, share this message with others and practice these principles in all you do."  This was my chance to do that.

Now, understand that DH had only been clean for barely a year at this point.  There were (and are) still a lot of trust issues to be worked out.  I was at a point where I believed he was no longer using and I believed him when he said so, but I still questioned and doubted.  I realize that sounds contradictory but I imagine you can only understand once you have been there so I know no other way to describe it.

So I sat down with DH that night to tell him what had happened, what we had been asked to do, and he bristled.  I panicked.  Did that mean that he had more secrets?  He is a more private person than I am and I understand that.  This was certainly about him, not me, so I made it very clear that was his decision entirely and he needed to not feel pressured to make the choice one way or the other.  I would support him either way.  He grew up in a home where he was surrounded by relatives and everyone in each others' business.  That's left him a little scarred you might say.  He feels so strongly about not sharing 'his business' that it is, in my opinion, to the extreme opposite...because he has felt too many years of being shamed for choices or hearing others make judgments and gossip.  He doesn't want to be the subject of that.  What person, especially an addict, does?

We were concerned about the anonymity of it.  Was this something where we would be black shadows and our voices disguised?  The answer was no.  I was concerned about the misinformation that is out there and the resulting effect on any future employers or parents of our kids' friends or something.  My husband is not some 'freak' but I know that misunderstanding exists.  If we were to go on this show and share our story then we would be showing our faces and our names, though first names only.  His biggest concern was any of his extended family seeing the show, knowing that side of him, and then always watching for him to make a mistake.  I wondered if that meant maybe he wasn't planning on this being a real change after all.

I cannot explain the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that went through both of our minds over the next couple of days.

Well at least we'd get a free trip to NYC out of it and a little getaway from the kids.  After all, I deserved at least that much for all the hell I had gone through.  Yup...we both had that thought on our own.

What if we went on national tv to provide hope to others that recovery was possible and it cause some big trigger that then created a relapse and we looked like great big hypocrites? After all, I have my boundary that I will not tolerate it and others might see that the wrong way if I have to enforce it.

One time I spoke up in a church lesson about the ARP program to say how wonderful it was.  It was a few months later I'd found out he had been actively using for the previous year or two.  I felt like a big jerk for having said anything in that lesson.

While we were figuring all this out we couldn't keep it to ourselves because we also had to determine if there would even be someone to watch our kids.  It consumed us for a couple of days.  So we told a couple of family members and friends who had known of our situation (but not really ever been there through all the thick of it either). We had mixed reactions.  One said that they didn't understand why we would even consider it.  One said 'great for you, you're so brave.'  One accused me of wanting to do it only to garner sympathy for myself as a victim and to rub salt in my husband's wounds.  Another said they 'whatever- your life, your decision.'

It hurt to find those closest to us not willing to just support us in whatever we chose to do, no questions asked, and it felt like a little foreboding of what may come.

So DH said "let me go to the temple and pray about what to do because that is the only way I am going to be able to think clearly about this."
My heart leapt with joy that he came to that on his own.  I knew that I had prayerfully considered what to do and gotten my answer but that he needed to receive his for himself but needed to make the decision on how to do so himself.

He woke at an insanely early hour to visit the temple before going to work.  When he returned from work that day he heaved a big sigh but his face was alight and said "I'll do it."  We were both overcome with the same feeling that if we could trust in the Lord to take care of us and let it all work out okay then it would.  We were in agreement that there is so much misunderstanding, within the world and even within our church, about pornography and addiction and the harm it can do and the way it twists reality when you don't even think it will....that only bringing it out of the shadows and educating others could provide real hope for any change on a larger scale outside our own home.  We were terrified and excited all at once.  (I was still very much concerned with figuring out how much weight I could quickly lose in a week's time so I wouldn't be so embarrassed to be seen)  I felt hurt and stung by the implication from another that I had somehow sought out this opportunity as a chance to wave some 'woe is me' flag and so I spent a lot of time on my knees to confirm where my heart truly was.

Thus began some three or more hour long telephone conversation with the associate producer for the Anderson Cooper talk show.  I answered all her questions and told her as much detail as I could (and more than I ever really thought I would to a stranger) about our marriage, pornography, my views about both, how I found out about the problem, his recovery journey, our relationship now, my past etc.  I found that it was impossible for me to share our story without sharing a lot of gospel principles to me and a lot of testimony.  I told her all about the church's ARP program and the role it had played.  I told her we were doing good but that, yes, there were definitely still some trust issues to be worked out.  To someone who hasn't been there I guess a year of sobriety seems like so long you shouldn't even be talking about it anymore and that you are just punishing the sinner if you are.  I feel like having been there I see how quickly that year went by, while dragging on all the same, and how it took that long to even process some of the emotions and issues that arose.  A year is nothing.  A year of sobriety is something to celebrate but nothing to close the deep wounds and establish new and lasting healthier behaviors and patterns of interaction.  We felt like newlyweds minus the passion who were trying to figure out how to safely be intimate with one another again.  That is hard on a marriage.  Trust issues are hard.  So we discussed all this while I hid in my room.  And his hands shook as he took the phone from me to tell his side of the story to the person on the phone while I fed the kids dinner in the other room.  I believe that was one of the hardest things he had done.
When I got back on the phone with the woman she told me that we were possibly 'too well off' for what they were wanting for the show.  They were going to have experts on the show to help some people and she wasn't sure if we needed any more help (ha! I thought).  She thanked me for our time and told me how much she felt she had learned and that her eyes had really been opened to some things that she hadn't even thought of before.  She would get back to us shortly after having the meeting with the other producers to go over the plan for the show and we would go from there.

And that was the end of it.  Just as quickly as it had come it had ended.  We didn't go to NYC and we weren't on a national talk show.  She sent an email a little later saying the show had been postponed because of a family emergency she had and that she'd get back to us.  We never heard anything.  Our counselor felt awful for having put us through the stress of making that decision.  I told him there was no need.  In the end, it was just what I'd needed.  You see, that was the point when I realized this was real.  That was the point where I saw my husband's humility, his sobriety, and his willingness to do anything to rid his life of this beast.  That was the moment our trust began to be repaired in a way it hadn't yet been able to.  Can I say that we are now back to pre-addiction bliss?  No.  That is a fantasy that never existed.  I can say that he is a changed man, and I am a changed (and still desperately changing) individual and our marriage is so much stronger for it.  Although we never had to follow through with that 'sacrifice' or with making that scary step of becoming so public, I do believe that we both needed that experience of determining our willingness to do so and that it changed both of us.

summa-summa-summa-summatime

Dang, I feel like it's been forever since I blogged.  Having the kids home from school just plain throws all schedules crazy.  Prior to that, I had a cah-ray-zay week preparing for my great-grandma's 100th birthday party.  I had some stuff thrown on me last minute that required a whole lot more time than I think anyone even still realizes and I still needed to attempt to keep my house in order for company coming.  That was a sort of up and down week as I did catch myself falling into old behaviors of hyperfocusing and not eating.  However, I am proud to report that I caught on to that and forced myself to eat regularly and to devote time to self-care and exercise before it got too out of hand.  I was a bit disappointed in how far it went but I reminded myself that this is a journey and I am still progressing toward perfection, toward making my stumbling blocks my strengths.  Having my accountability group most definitely kept me from falling down into that spiral of starving/binging or stress eating because I had somewhere I needed to report to each night and real people to whom I was committed to being accountable to.

So that was a couple of weeks ago.  I took a day at the beginning of last week to recover from it all and then I set to having summer with my children.  I found myself actively engaging in their lives and being present in the moments.  In summers past we would have an outing once a week and that would generally be my limit for all the effort it took or because I just didn't want to be in public.  I don't know if it is that they are older or if it is the change in me, or if it was just a fluke week.... But we literally went somewhere every single day and it was my idea. We had a grand time visiting the park, the library, a warehouse sale, going out to lunch, spending the afternoon at the waterpark, going to the farmer's market, shopping and more.  Every night was one of those nights where I felt 'done' but in a glorious way.  I had decided I was going to really give my efforts an extra push in my workouts and my eating.  I did it and it felt good to stick to that.  I'm sure eating all that healthy food helped my energy and moods also.  Still, I felt like I was different.

I do need to report something big.  Remember when I said I would make it up that hill on my bike by the end of the summer?  I did it!  On Saturday.  DH had said a few weeks earlier "I don't see why you can't get up it now. I bet you could if you really tried."  It was enough to get me thinking.  I didn't make it up the hills on the triathlon in one fell swoop.  Most of the ladies' took a breather here and there.  So who was to say I couldn't get to the top if I just took some time along the way to catch my breath?  So that's precisely what I did.  I'll have to blog about that separately just because it was it's own accomplishment and boy did I have Satan putting those thoughts in my head.  Nevertheless, I made it!

So, guess what that means?  It means I took the plunge and I registered for IronGirl. Oh man, I got such crazy jitters and nerves for it that I had to distract myself right away.  I'm scared and nervous and excited all at once.  The best part though was when I told DH what I had done.  His face lit up just the way that it did watching our children take their first steps.  I wish I'd had a camera ready to capture that look because I'm convinced it will get me through any difficulty in training or in completing the race come race day.  I can do hard things....but it is the support of others, including my Heavenly Father, that gives me that ability.  There was another reason to me signing up for IronGirl on Monday.  It was the day after Father's Day.  For me, that means it was the anniversary of D-Day (discovery of my husband's addiction & when I asked him to leave) in our household.  I've had a lot of projects lately that have required going back through old photos or our 'history' and I've realized how much of my personal spiral of weight and whatnot really was tied to that D-Day and the time since.  It has been 3 years since that day.  So much has happened in that time.  I felt like I wanted to mark the day differently and mark it as my own rebirth somehow now, because it was what I needed.  I thought about how I feel jealous of the commitment of new moms to immediately get their pre-baby bodies back.  How 'if only' I'd done this sooner I wouldn't have been like this for so long.  How I've had it in me all along.  And yet, I know that I needed that time to get to this point.  Some people have big a-ha moments that solidify their testimonies.  For me, I have always received revelation and had my testimony built up line upon line and through small confirming signs that just sort of all add up for me.  I've always been that way.  When I prayed about whether marrying DH was the right thing for me to do, I didn't get some 'yes' answer.... I got several smaller answers that added up to a confirmed 'yes'.  It must be how I learn.  That is why I have to be easy on myself for allowing myself to be fat so long, for allowing myself to listen to others' voices instead of my own, for letting the negativity in, for feeling defeatist.  I can see now that I needed to take that journey deep into the dark abyss to get to the heart of it all, to be broken to the core, to feel myself being rebuilt to be stronger, only to then have the imperfect parts chipped away.  I know that it is a slow process and how quickly the last 3 years have passed when it seemed they never would helps me be more patient with myself.  It feels merciful.  I started multiple times in the last 3 years to lose the weight or to change my habits or to make myself better.  I am better in many ways.  However, the major change in my addictive behaviors requires a lot more effort and attention than I would have had the energy for in that time. I needed the life experiences to teach me things and show me my own strength and character along the way.  

Of course after making a major commitment and feeling like I'd reached a new and positive step in my journey, I would have to face a setback.  That's the way it goes right?  No sooner had I taken the photos below than I suddenly found myself stuck on my living room floor.  Turns out I pulled a muscle in my back, maybe two.  So this week has been far different from last.  My sweet children have been wonderful and largely cared for themselves.  My older children have been taking care of giving the youngest his breathing treatments since he has been sick.  They've brought me food in bed, get well cards, and not destroyed the house while I slept away the days.  Even just half a muscle relaxer completely knocks me out.  I finally got to do a little workout again today.  I wasn't sure if it would be okay or not but I could feel that pull.... that 'ease' of lying around....that little wagging finger of the dark side saying 'it's ok...just come hang out here for a while'.  So far, I'm still mobile (wasn't there for awhile).  It can be so depressing to have your body take such a far step backward but I'm confident that as the injury heals I will be able to give it my all again and the strength will quickly return.  That's how life is isn't it?

I'm pretty sure I was going to write more or I was going to go back and reread this to make sure it all flowed correctly.  At this point I'm just going to post it and be done with it.  I keep getting interrupted and I have children calling my name to make dinner.  So I suppose if it sounds a little strange I can just blame it on that, or on the pain pills that may still be in my system.  ;)  Hope you are all doing fabulously!  

so much to say and so little time.

There has been so much on my mind lately and so much I have wanted to share with the world.  Yet, I have been busy and unable to get it all down on paper (or computer).  It is in there though, churning.  I want to say, that if you ever have any questions at all about my experience as the wife of an addict, about my journey through my husband's recovery, about my personal history, about my own addictions...anything, please ask.  As I have read through recently discovered recovery blogs I have seen so much echoed of both my past and present.  I have wished that I wrote so much more during our experience and there is so much that I would love to share but don't even know where to begin.  So if you want to know, please ask.

That being said... Let me tell you a little something that happened this week.
But first I have to give you a little, very personal, history.  Some of this I have only shared with my husband and my sponsor from when I did the PASG program.

When you work the 12-step program you reach a point where you write out your history.  Start with your earliest memory and just get it all out.  It is terrifying and liberating all at the same time.  (full disclosure: I did mine but stopped at when I got married.  ::big sigh:: that's next)  When I was doing my history I suddenly saw a pattern.  That is why it is so good.  I also saw, or remembered, holes in my memory.  These little experiences that seemed significant enough to remember, and yet the important piece of it seemed to be missing.  For example, one memory from my preschool years involving a friend who shall remain nameless that I suddenly couldn't play at their house anymore. I was upset and didn't understand why my friend didn't like me anymore.  I always associated this memory also with my hair being in braids- like perhaps it was significant because my friend always had her hair in braids and so that was when I wanted to, or it was where I first got my hair braided.  Seems silly and insignificant right?  So why do I remember it 25+ years later??  There must be more.  Was it my first broken friendship and the hurt of that that left it embellished on my brain?  Seriously, this has bothered me for a long time.  It's not like it's something I think of regularly...but one of those things that when my mind wanders to my history or to that time in my life I just can't help but be bugged by that 'hole' in my memory.

I apologize if I go all over with this post in trying to explain things.
So what happened a few days ago was that there was someone in the news. Someone who I recognized.  That someone was the father of that friend.  He was being sentenced for a sexual assault and the news stories explained what sure seems to me to be a long history of sexual misconduct.
So here I am with this memory hole.
What do I have?
A man who I was barred from going to his house suddenly when I was very young.
Stirrings of a memory that I'm not sure what it is or if I want to know.
A mother who is dead who I can't ask about these things.
A previous history of a hole in my memory that suddenly came to light... when I recalled being a 6 year old and sitting in a friend's living room with her father (or uncle?) sitting behind us, in a dark room, watching explicit porn videos that he insisted we watch with him.... remembering that suddenly (upon asking my mom a probing question that elicited a 'don't you remember' response that opened the floodgates) allowed me to suddenly see a lot of my personal struggles and behavior patterns for what they were and where they came from.
Additional history of having been molested by a peer on two other occasions in my youth and of another 'friend' trying to rape me when I was a teenager.

Suddenly I feel dirty.  I have worked through that trauma of my youth and am no longer that victim, I am a survivor.  This is new though.  What is this anyway?  I desperately want to ask my mom the rest of what happened, if she even remembers.  Of course I can't do that though.  My dad knows nothing.  I confirm with the reporter that it is in fact the same man.  I've always remembered the names of the parents of that house I couldn't go to anymore, though I've never been able to remember the friend's name.  Weird.  So I'm sad my mom isn't around to ask these things.  I'm angry because I'm wondering if something happened to me even younger than that first memory I have and that she may have kept it from me and others- leading to me being 'damaged' and he being allowed to continue as a perpetrator.  I'm confused because I don't even know what I'm dealing with.  Of course, I'm also clawing at anything in a desperate attempt to maintain some control and not start hiding my feelings with stuff in my mouth (happy to report I was successful there- on the one hand I didn't feel like eating anything and on the other I felt like eating it all).  The Lord saw me and put an angel in my path.  I went for a walk with a friend in the ward in whom I had already confided some of this dark past of mine.  I told her everything I was experiencing and just word vomited on her.  She had no answers for me, obviously, but encouraged me through her own experience just to visit with my bishop and let him take it all from me.  I felt better walking around and just getting it all out of me.  I felt better but still confused.  We talked about my health stuff and everything else going on and with my recovery.  She pointed out how it seems that much is sort of swirling around, waiting to come crashing down on me.  Yes, that is about how it works when you start a recovery or a major positive life change, or when you just plain feel things are going really well.  So she is probably right.  Just knowing that gives us power though right.  The thought of that overwhelms me and yet leaves me feeling 'bring it on' because I'm committed to this and ready to fight the fight I'm going to win.  So we were both left wondering if this was an opportunity being presented to me to deal with something in my past in order to move further along in my recovery.

I went home without answers but with a little more insight and a lot more relief.  I had not been home 2 hours when it just all suddenly came to me.  The rest of the memory.  It came with such a clarity that I knew this friend had prayed for me.  She prayed on my behalf because I had not yet been able to do it as I did not yet even know what it was I wanted.  I know this too because she confirmed it the next day when she said that she had in fact prayed that I would see what I needed to see before she went to bed that night.

The rest of the memory?
He braided my hair.  That's why the braid was significant.  I think it happened multiple times and my mom assumed it was the mom or another child doing it until I made some comment one time that he was the one who'd been braiding my hair.  I felt like I'd done something wrong because she wouldn't let me go over there after that even though other kids could.  I wonder now if she never said anything to anyone else for fear they would think she was overreacting.  I'm sure that as a preschooler I didn't understand and probably kept bugging her about it.  So she told me that my friend didn't want to be my friend anymore.  I thought I did something wrong.  I didn't understand.  I've always hated friendships ending without my understanding of why, or feeling like I've done something wrong when I did something right.  Now I understand.  My mother protected me.   She followed her gut instinct, at the risk of my feelings toward her (I'm sure I was mad at her), and she kept me safe.

She was the one who I went to later when the friends' dad had me watching porn with him.  She did the same thing then.  Even my brother remembers not being able to trick or treat at the end of the street suddenly.  I don't know if anything more happened in either of those instances, but it doesn't really matter.

I never told her about the guys when I was older.  I was too busy letting myself believe that it was my fault somehow, because that was what those guys told me. I was too busy feeling ashamed for those feelings I had and for those memories that would replay in my dreams.  I was too busy being a teenager.  It wasn't until I met the guy who would later become my husband that I even realized someone could really be interested in me just for 'me'.  That a 'good guy' could like me.  That I could be okay with that.  It was after that and my senior year psychology class that I said to her "Mom, did something happen to me?" and she said "don't you remember your friend ____?".  That was when I remembered what I did.  That was when I could put that piece together and stop feeling so much confusion about feeling like a dirty person even when I knew that deep down I wasn't.

I'm not entirely certain the purpose of this latest discovery (or of this post for that matter).  I am certain that the Lord works in mysterious ways and gives us knowledge, brings things to light, opens our eyes, as we are ready to receive.  I feel confident in that.  I'm still debating about what to do with this newfound knowledge but I know I'll figure it out and He will use it to my benefit.  I wish I could tell my mom 'thanks' for being the mean mom who wouldn't let me play with my friend because something just didn't sit right with her.  I wish I could tell her it's okay that she didn't take me to counseling or anything when I was younger even though I probably needed it...because I've got it covered now, and I've learned some pretty darn valuable lessons by having to experience them and pound them out myself.  I learn better by doing anyway.  I'm pretty sure my mom knows these things though, but it's a bit of a relief to get them out there.  I think she'd be proud of me today.

2012.

We began 2012 with a notice on our door.

You see, we loved our house and our ward and our incredible neighbors.  We had prayed about being in this home and felt strongly it was where we would and should raise our children. We went through many obstacles and struggles in an attempt to keep it our home after some unexpected financial situations arose.  We were able to get a loan modification that helped us greatly.  We felt grateful and blessed.  However, when the final papers came in that would make it all legal and official, the payment amounts were hundreds of dollars more than what we’d been paying and what we’d been told would be our new ‘official’ payment.  As we struggled with what to do we took a hard look at our desire to live honestly in all our dealings.  We admitted to ourselves, and our bank, that we could no longer afford to live in our home that we so loved.  So we stopped the payments and we put it up for sale, hoping to find a buyer who would rent it back to us, allowing us to stay there as we dreamed.  We found a buyer and rejoiced.  We were saved!  Our prayers were answered! The notice came anyway.  The bank would not consider our short sale and an auction date had been set.  We were heartbroken.  Isn’t this where the Lord had told us we should raise our family?  We maintained we would keep a positive attitude.  After all, we’d had a rough couple of years as a family and were anxious to have a fresh start.  We’d already made some positive changes in our home, maybe a physical change was the next step in starting over?  That didn't change the ache of leaving our neighbors of 4 years, our children’s best friends, or the daunting feeling of moving right after Christmas.

So two weeks later another notice arrived.  I won’t ever forget that day.  It was just after K’s birthday- he had his annual well-check that day.  I saw the notice as I left that morning.  The house had been sold at auction.  We were to call the number listed to find out what to do.  This was really happening.  I was told by realtor friends that we would have 30 days to move out.  That would give us time to find a new place (we were already looking on the sly, trying not to clue the children in until we knew what was going on) and to pack up.  So DH called the number listed while I took both of the Ks to K’s appointment.  After the appointment I went to drive by some homes that a friend had told me about for rent.  I spoke with DH in between- we had two weeks to be out of our house.  He’d tried to bargain with them but it was to no avail.  Even with young children at home.  Two weeks to find a place to live, pack up, and be moved out!  So I’m on my way to look at this house for rent when I get rear-ended.  Talk about a crappy day.  The Ks are completely freaked out, but thankfully fine.  I’m grateful it wasn’t my fault.  As I’m walking around my suburban, that was hit by a giant truck so now I’m can’t open my back doors at all, I realize I’m super nauseous and dizzy.  As someone who’s already had 4 concussions, I know what that means.  Not to mention the whiplash.  Super.  Just what I need.  So now I have 2 weeks to pack and move into a house that I have yet to find, with a busted vehicle, concussion, and bad back.  I seriously couldn’t get out of bed the next day.  I truly had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Otherwise I was afraid I wouldn’t stop crying.  Well, I felt very strongly that we needed to go ahead with touring the home we’d planned to that night even though I’d only gotten out of the ER an hour or so before.  At this point we finally had to tell the kids what was going on.  I was up front and honest with the homeowners about what was going on with our current home, and about the accident I’d just been in since moving around was a bit difficult.  We had looked at some 20+ homes already.  When we walked into that house that night, we knew.  That is how we ended up in the house we are now renting.  My heart was full as friends and family helped pack and move us.  I cried about not having best friends next door.  People who had truly been angels and saviors in our lives.  I cried to withdraw my students from a great school.  I cried to leave the ward that I had grown up in as a youth myself.  I cried to leave our bishop, who had become our counselor, friend, confidant- and who was a major part of saving our marriage.  I was anxious for a fresh, new, start.  I was also terrified.

Then we went to church that first Sunday in our new ward and I knew all would be well.  I was greeted by many who made me feel right at home.  The landlords had told us that it was a great, friendly ward with a lot of kids the same age as ours- that was a big draw.  What they couldn’t have known was that there were friends of my mom’s from each home I’d lived in who were in this ward.

The school situation was an adjustment.   No surprise, P slid right in and made a new friend right away.  She did have some trouble with bullying by some girls who kicked her out of their group when she stood up to them for intentionally messing up the chalk drawings done by other students.  I was sad for her to learn that lesson but so very proud of her for standing up for what was right.  Little did I know what a lesson she was teaching me at that time.  She didn’t let it get to her too much and in no time had made more friends and felt right at home.  W had a harder time.  His new teacher was a very difficult one and not a good fit for him.  We had been incredibly blessed with his last one and I would have driven him there daily if only they had allowed me.  I did try but they wouldn’t consider it because of overcrowding.  He was having frequent migraines and his reading level was dropping.  I fought my way all the way to our assistant superintendent but to no avail.  I kept W involved because I wanted him to know I was concerned for him and would do all I could to help him, but that I also needed him to do his best in class as well.  After speaking with his pediatrician and with a good friend who lobbies for the school district, we decided that pulling him out of school for the remainder of the year would be better than his staying in with frequent stress and migraines.  I told him this and that I would be willing to homeschool him.  It was a hard decision on all our parts but I feel like he just needed to see that I was willing to do that for him.  His confidence seemed to improve after that and he made some friends in his new scout group.  He figured out his teacher a little better and how to not take her so personally, and he decided to go ahead and stick out the year in school.  I finally got them to listen to me about his abilities (and the fact that he was not reading at a first grade level like his teacher was trying to tell me, but rather a fifth grade one) and he was able to test for GATE and get started right away.  All these things helped him remember what a great student he was and he finished out the year beautifully.  K2 had to switch his speech therapy teachers as well but we could immediately tell what a blessing that would be as his new teacher has been fantastic for him and he made immediate strides.

As a family, we all felt overwhelmed by the love and welcoming arms of our new ward family.  Treats arrived welcoming us.  Parents quickly helped figure out what kids were the same age so friends could be made.  There is a park next door to our school, which we can easily walk to and from each day, and we soon found ourselves right at home with the others as we stayed after school to play and visit awhile.  What a blessing!

It’s funny how you can feel so blessed and yet have such a hard time all the same.  It was a few months after our move that I started really missing people.  I hadn’t seem my family for a while so I missed them.  I’d tried to arrange for us to get together over an overlapping spring break weekend halfway between our homes, but they cancelled.  I still talked to and occasionally saw my former neighbor, but it just wasn’t the same as having her right next door where we’d chat outside nearly every day.  K2 had had MRSA so we had either been stuck at home for a couple of weeks or at dr appt after appt trying to get the poor sore cleaned out without doing actual surgery.  I’d gotten out of the house finally for a book club craft night, only to find myself feeling incredibly uncomfortable with conversation going on.  Not wanting to make a scene but also desperately wanting now to be home, I quietly left.  I felt worn down, and so alone.  I remember how alone I felt but I also remember how much I felt my Savior there beside me, supporting me, and praising me….and how close I felt to my husband as I knew that we were going through hard things but doing so together and as very best friends who had been greatly strengthened and brought nearer to each other and to our Savior together.  I had been serving as a women’s support group facilitator for a group with the church’s addiction recovery program.  It had been a tremendous blessing and life support for me….but I had to stop going at this same time and turn the role over to another because of a new calling I had received in the ward.  I felt so blessed to see the journey I (we) had made over the last year or two and where we were now.  I felt so blessed to have this fresh start before us but it overwhelmed me all the same.  It was an adjustment.  It was a change.  Change can be, and often is, good.  Change is also hard.

When we looked forward to our move with a hope of fresh starts, we had no idea what we were really getting in to.  After my feelings of exhaustion and loneliness, I made a bit of a vent on facebook.  It was nothing more than a vent but some took it to heart and found offense where none was intended.  Before I knew it, I found one of my very best friends from my youth sending me hurtful and painful emails detailing everything wrong with me, and taking a stab at literally every aspect of my life.  I had made the hard decision to say something about something that was bothering me.  I thought I had clarified it in a way that would make it clear that I meant no personal attack, but merely a stating of a decision I had made and a desire for everyone to be better- figuring we could all agree on that even if we respectfully held different opinions on other things.  I have always figured friends could agree to disagree and still respect and love one another.  However, I could no longer ignore that voice in my head constantly saying “Dare to stand alone” or “stand in holy places“.  I found myself being reminded of my sweet daughter who said to her new friends, “I don’t think that’s a good idea” and holding her head high after they said she couldn’t be in their club any more.  I thought of the primary children I had just been called to teach about choosing the right.  I thought of the pain I had endured and the questions I had faced, soul searching I had done, as my marriage hung on a thread while Satan had ever so slyly weaseled his way into our home.  I didn’t want that for any of my friends, and I certainly didn’t want that again for myself or my family.  So it was that I said what I would and would not allow in my home or in my life.  So it was that I suddenly found myself in one of the hardest situations of my life.  So it was that I lost my entire social circle in seemingly one fell swoop.  I never thought I would have to be in that sort of a situation as an adult.  I certainly never thought that it would go the way that it would.  We so often think that we will be blessed right away for “standing for truth and righteousness” and for choosing the better part.  Losing my best friend, losing my book club, losing my girls’ night outs….certainly didn’t feel like a blessing.  I was sad and angry and hurt for a long time.  At some point I realized that I was grieving like the loss of a loved one who has left this life.  I prayed for help and direction and for the negative feelings to be taken away.  I didn’t want it to be as hard as it was.  I didn’t understand why it was as hard as it was when I had done something right.  As I prayed, the only response I would get would be an overwhelming assurance that I did the right thing and that it would be ok.  Satan is tricky though and that feeling wouldn’t stay for long.  I don’t recall how long it was but eventually the feelings faded and I found my courage, and myself, again.

It started when my visiting teacher showed up on my doorstep.  She had come to bring me a treat and to apologize for not being a ‘better visiting teacher’ because she hadn’t really come yet to visit and bring a message.  I don’t know what came over me but I was feeling especially honest and had just been praying about how I’d felt about this lost friendship.  I suddenly just spilled my guts to this poor visiting teacher.  I just told her what I needed.  I shared with her what had just happened with my social life and that I didn’t really need someone to come by and bring me a spiritual message out of a sense of duty.  I said, quite frankly, I just need a friend.  You know what?  She was an answer to my prayers that night.  She then told me about a playgroup and a book club and just sort of about the social life of the women in the ward.  She made an effort to make sure I knew about those things I could be involved in and she did it out of love.  What a blessing!  So I found myself back in a book club (I’ve still been in my mom’s old book club, which is a total blast, but scheduling has made it hard to attend often this past year), and back to hanging out at the park with moms while the kids played and just plain feeling right at home again.  I knew that was my Heavenly Father’s little way of letting me know that He hadn’t forgotten me and hadn’t left me in just the company of my husband and family (which are fantastic, don’t get me wrong).

That was the spring/summer.  I had many other instances over the summer where I found myself overwhelmed by love and support from sources other than those I would have expected it from.  I found them as blessings after having again to stand up for myself or my family when it was hard.  I have been open and honest with my children as we have gone through various situations and I am amazed at their maturity and ability to empathize.  We have grown even closer as a family.  We are so blessed!

Now as the year has drawn to a close, I have reflected much on where the year has taken us.  I have absolutely loved my calling at church, one I was really hesitant about at first, and I have made great friendships as a result of it.  I get to work with some of the best people and I have the example and strength of the children to lift me up.  I am deeply in love with and proud of my husband.  And I mean that.  I have seen the work of the Atonement through him and I have seen how our natures really can be changed by applying it and by hard work on our part. That is my hope for myself in 2013.  W has been blessed with the most amazing teacher for him and has just completely blossomed.  I’ve even been impressed and surprised.  I never thought he would come out of his shell as much as he has- especially with the parents he has!   P has made some really great friends, without having to sacrifice any of who she is.  Our new home has a separate room in the garage that has become DH’s woodshop.  He has ‘found’ himself there and uncovered a talent and hobby that took off largely because of some people in our new ward.  I am convinced that he would not be where he is today were it not for that little room of his and the support and encouragement of people who like his stuff.

If you’ve made it this far, I’m pretty impressed.  I’m almost done, I promise.  

I just have to share what happened a few weeks ago.

Some time between my birthday and the middle of December I started feeling sad again.  I wasn’t really sure why.  Was it that I was missing my mom?  I always do this time of year, but that wasn’t quite it.  Was something ‘off’ at home?  No, not really.  I was feeling quite content in my life of crafting and mothering and I wasn’t having any of those ‘I’ve got to get out for a girls’ night!’ feelings.  No, I really had nothing to feel particularly bleh about.  I talked with DH and then a couple of things occurred to me.  I’d been struggling with again allowing those negative thoughts of hurt and sadness about what happened earlier in the year.  Thoughts of this friend kept coming to mind.  Not that I was wishing anything bad on her or anything like that.  Nothing of the sort in fact.  Just general thoughts that then brought back that sadness and sort of those grief feelings I guess.  Then DH reminded me how much we would often do together this time of year.  Isn’t it funny how once you pinpoint the source of a negative feeling you can feel such a burden lifted?  Well, that’s how I felt so I knew that was it.  On top of that, there was the usual stress of finances around the holidays.  I had been applying for jobs here and there for months.  I wanted badly to pay off all our debts as a surprise gift to DH for Christmas.  This was a sincere desire of my heart, to be debt free and to contribute to some extra for the kids to actually participate in extracurricular activities and just to have some extra money.  I knew that I would be blessed with this because it was the sincere desire of my heart but I also knew that I desperately wanted to be home with my children and have truly been loving my role at home.  So I’ve been so torn about this.

Anyway, I’ll be honest with you….I’m not particularly good at consistent prayer.  Never have been.  I can testify to you up and down about the power of prayer and I have had some very powerful experiences with it.  But for whatever reason, I just suck at consistent personal prayer.  So once again I was on the bandwagon and feeling very grateful and humble.  I hopped back on the wagon for no reasons other than the fact that I knew this was something I needed in my life. I was seeing a difference in my life with daily personal prayer and my life without it.  I knew I needed it.  I am sure that many can relate with the financial struggles of our day. I looked at the math and, I don’t know about you but, we are truly getting poorer year by year.  Utility costs and grocery costs rise while our income stays the same.  That simply doesn’t add up.  I continue to cut corners wherever possible and I know I don’t always make the best of choices or I know some would say to give up date night (which is a whole different argument) or other things we enjoy.  Anyway, I will spare you all the philosophical thoughts on all this and get to this….

Remember that car accident that was a part of starting the year?  It totaled our car.  On the advice of people whose opinions we greatly trusted, I got a lawyer to handle all the insurance stuff.  I have prayed all year long for that case to just be done and over with so that I would know where we stood financially.  I’ve never been through this sort of thing before.  I have prayed all year for extra ways to earn extra money to make ends meet or for a little extra something.  A few weeks ago, as I was considering my reasons for feeling ‘off’ personally, I thought about Christmas and how I’d hoped to have the case settled by then to make Christmas extra special.  I thought about wanting to get things for the kids and make it the best Christmas ever because I was so proud of how they’d handled the year.  But I knew we weren’t in a position financially to do a whole lot.  So I was a little sad about that, but still very grateful, and I told my Heavenly Father that.

What happened in the next week was overwhelming.  We were invited to participate in a craft show.  I set a goal in my head of what we needed to earn from it to fully pay for everything I wanted to get for Christmas.  I had already been selling and buying things through a fb garage sale group and largely had it done but wanted a couple bigger things and something extra special for DH.  I knew that I wasn’t going to get anything because DH would be too stressed about money to spend any on me- and that was okay.  But I wanted to show my appreciation and gratitude to him and my kids.  I wanted them to feel as blessed as I did.  So this craft show…. We worked tirelessly and were blown away at the response.  What a great thing to work so hard and reap the benefits!  We felt so very blessed!  In that same week I finally got a call from a lawyer that there was an offer on the table from the insurance company in my case.  It would be enough to pay off our debt, or at least close to it.  It wouldn’t be in time for Christmas (in fact, I’m told it’s probably still a month or two out) but just knowing there was that light ahead… To top it all off, a friend contacted me out of the blue to tell me he wanted to give me a gift.  He is a photographer whom I have long admired.  I still don’t know or understand his reasoning for approaching me with such a wonderful gift, but he told me to choose an image of his for him to make me.  Just because.  I cried tears of gratitude.  I didn’t tell my children what happened because I wanted their dad to be able to give me the picture as a gift from Santa (because that’s truly what it felt like)….but W and P said something to me out of the blue later that day.  It seems that they too had been thinking about the year drawing to a close.  “Ever since we moved here magical things just keep happening.”  That is what they said.  What prompted it was laughing at the money found under my doormat after someone had picked up another item I’d sold on the garage sale group.  They were joking that the money magically appeared.  What they didn’t know was just how onto something they really were.  So we talked about it.  We remembered how hard the start of the year was.  We thought about how we all thought it was going to be a terrible and difficult year because of how those first couple of weeks went.  We thought about the hard decisions we had to make throughout the year and the blessings we received for choosing the right.  We felt humbled.  And grateful.  We talked about all the ‘magic’ we have seen since being here and we recognized that magic for what it is….miracles from our Heavenly Father…blessings….tender mercies.  And we were overwhelmed- P,  W and I- as we thought just how very much our Heavenly Father loves us to send us these things to let us know He loves us and is proud of us and wants us to be happy and feel at home.  From the answer to a prayer to the random act of kindness… from the offer of friendship to the cookies on the doorstep…. from the incredible teachers at school and church to the kids who just ‘click’ together…. from the reliable babysitter you can trust to leave your kids with overnight to the family in the ward who offers to take them overnight when they’ve only known you a few months….from the presidency members who steal you in the middle of the night for ice cream on an otherwise blah birthday to the random paper birthday balloons taped on your door in the morning…. from the etsy store and fb orders to the garage sale sales…. from the box of school supplies and wishes for a good year to the giant stuffed whale ‘just because’ left on the doorstep… from the following a prompting to the answering a call…. I don’t know who all of you are that have blessed our lives but I wish to thank you each and every one.  Some are angels I know by name but feel nonetheless overwhelmed with gratitude for them.  Some of you are still in secret but you know who you are.  I need you all to know that I am grateful for you.  I need you to know that you have been answers to prayers.  I need to thank you for being the magic in my children’s lives.  I want everyone to know that you can feel the stress of the financial worries of the world or of your home or the stress of health issues or the stress of addiction or pornography or contention or other troubles in the home…..But you can still feel an abundance of love and of gratitude and blessings.  I am not really sure how much you can without the help of others who, probably unknowingly, act as God’s hands & angels on earth.  I want to thank those of you who have been that for us.  I need to say how very strongly I have felt blessed in the last few weeks and how very strongly I have felt those blessings as a result of my Heavenly Father wanting to acknowledge my good choices and patience (which, believe me, is not a strong suit of mine).  I don’t say any of this to be as though I am on some sort of high horse or tooting horn for when I have made good choices.  Quite the contrary.  I feel so far from ‘right’ and yet so richly blessed that it overwhelms me almost the point of confusion.  Who am I to deserve so much?  I am grateful to each of you who have made that possible.  I am so grateful to each person who is patient and loving with me in my own imperfection.  What a learning experience this life is!  I hope that I can continue to grow and change for the better in 2013 and that my life will continue to be as richly blessed…. I hope that you will get to feel that in your own life and that I can pay forward a little of what I have received.  I have so much to improve upon (a major thing being consistency) and I feel I have done so much wrong or less than what is expected, and yet I can be so blessed and grateful?  There really aren't words to adequately describe but I hope that you get to experience a little of it.  You’ll probably have to go through some tough stuff to get there, as I know we have, but I can promise you it is worth it.  It is a taste of Heaven and joy and any task or trial is worth that.