A year ago today, my father passed away.
It had been a really long week. The previous Friday had been his birthday. It was the last day he left his room in the wheelchair. It was a sad day. Then Sunday was Christmas. All 11 adults and 5 little nephews crammed into my parents little 2 bedroom apartment trying to enjoy each other and open presents. It was a nice day, but it was hard as well. Dad stayed in his room that day. We took turns sitting with him and spending time with him. He was awake, but preferred sleeping to anything.
Monday or Tuesday he stopped eating. Tuesday he started groaning and grunting. It was hard to listen to. He was sometimes coherent and sometimes not. Wednesday was the last time he spoke. Wednesday night was horrible. Mom cried all night as he groaned and grunted. Thursday was worse. After the hospice nurse visited on Thursday, I called all my siblings and told them they expected him to pass within a few days. They seemed shocked, but I really wanted him to go at that point in time.
Friday, the day he passed, mom left for about 3 hours in the middle of the day. She couldn't listen to him anymore and had to get out of the house. She came back in the late afternoon. By then he had settled down and was breathing slowly and steadily. Two of my brothers came over with their wives and we sat in my dads room laughing and talking. Once they showed up, he really started to breath slower. We talked and laughed and cried together. We held his hand, talked to him and told stories of the good times. The minutes between breaths became longer and finally about 8:30, he took his last breath and slipped from this world.
One of my brothers is a paramedic for the fire department. He couldn't stop talking about how peaceful and calm it was. Usually, when he sees death, it is amidst tragedy. He is pulling away a family member, trying to treat them, and leaving their loved ones behind, asking them to leave the room even. Dad's passing wasn't like that. It was peaceful and beautiful. I don't know if I have ever seen a dead body before that night. I can't remember seeing one. But there was a real physical change when he passed away. I could feel his presence gone. It felt like he waited for us all to be there before going.
Those were sacred days. I feel the spirit now even as I write about them. If ever I had a doubt that Heavenly Father was aware of my every need, all I have to do is remember those few weeks surrounding my dad's death.
There was a magic window of ideal time for him to pass away. Not that you ever want someone to pass away, but if he was going to, there was an ideal time. On his birthday that year, he turned 62. If my dad passed away at 62 or later, my mom would be eligible for a much larger death benefit than if he died earlier. He needed to die after Dec. 23rd. But also, because of my dad's cancer, their catastrophic insurance had kicked in. All of my dad's care was free at that point of time. If his life continued into the new year, into 2012, we would have another $25,000 out of pocket expenses. My family couldn't afford that. So he needed to die before Jan. 1. And so, the Lord took him on Dec. 30th. Could it have been anymore perfect? Could there be any doubt that Heavenly Father was aware of our needs?
That night, when the men from the funeral home arrived to take his body, I felt extremely grateful. Grateful for the life he led, grateful to be his daughter. grateful to have taken care of him for the last two months of his life, grateful for his example, and grateful that it was over. Cancer is a horrible, terrible disease. I hate it. Watching him slowly whither away and die, was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my entire life. I was grateful the experience was at an end.
The spirit that attended me the next several weeks was amazing. Somehow, I organized a funeral, put together the program, wrote a talk, and hugged all my family and friends that came to visit. Childhood friends shows up to offer support and love. Flowers from my employer, from friends, from family continually poured into the house. I found a box in the garage labeled "Dad's Stuff", in his amazing straight block handwriting. In it, I found the things that were most dear to him. Every letter he wrote or received on his mission. A stack of poetry my dad had written. I didn't even know he was a poet. My favorite was a poem he wrote about his brother Corey who died while he was on his mission. He would never talk about death, even while dying. But here in black and yellow (they are all on yellow lined paper) was his testimony of the atonement and the resurrection. Also in there were, his boy scout uniform from when he was a scout, as well as his eagle paperwork and every merit badge he ever earned. I felt more connected to my dad in death than I did in life.
In the box, I also found every letter my mom had ever written to him, starting back when they were first married. Reading those letters helped me forgive my dad more than anything else. My mom is amazing. Totally, completely amazing. But she was emotional and immature and the daughter of an alcoholic. I started to realize, as I read those letters, that all of the things I was upset with my dad about was really years of him responding to her set of issues. Not that he didn't have his own, but for the first time, I really got a glimpse of the issues between them and what was going on. Forgiveness came easily when I understood what was going on.
The funeral day was a long one. We started early with a viewing and hugged and talked to so many wonderful people who came to show support. One of my favorite moments of the day was with my nephew. He walked up to the casket, put his chin on the edge and stroked my dads face over and over again. It was just such a tender moment. A dear friend of the family, he practically grew up at our house, flew in just for the funeral. He flew in and flew out the same day. I couldn't believe the number of people that came and showed their support. It was truly amazing. I didn't cry most of the day. I felt cried out. It was a beautiful funeral. Probably the best I've been to. And I don't just say that because I spoke, I say that because it was truly a celebration of his life and not just a sad time. Something I learned at the funeral, since my brother left on his mission in 1996, my dad has supported a full time missionary every month of his life. I didn't even know that.
Within a few days, my mom had completely re-arranged the house, and all of his equipment was gone. It was strange, but good. I knew I needed to go home and move on as well. And I did. After 10 weeks taking care of my dad 24/7, I needed to get back to life. It was good but sad at the same time. I didn't want to forget him or not have him be a daily part of my life. I wanted to honor him and love him. I took a few pictures I found of him on his mission and framed them. He always said that was some of the happiest times of his life. I knew he would be happy in heaven, able to share the gospel and be a missionary. I framed the pictures and put them on my dresser so I could look at them every day and remember how happy he is. I shouldn't be sad because he is not. I can guarantee that.
The year has been difficult for many reasons. My birthday was hard. He always called, every year and sang to me on my birthday. I cried all morning, waiting for the phone call I knew would never come. Valentines Day came and went with no flowers from my dad. Father's Day, July Fourth, his favorite holiday, his Wedding anniversary, Thanksgiving, and now Christmas. The year of "firsts" is over. New Year's Day will mark the beginning of the year of "seconds". I'm hoping this year will be a little easier.
I know my dad still lives. I know he watches over me. I know he will one day be resurrected and I will be able to see him again. I know that.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Home
Oh blog, how I've missed you. It was difficult to find 10 seconds to myself in while visiting my family, let alone enough time to write. My head and heart are so full tonight and I need to process.
The visit overall went well. I flew in on Monday and spent the day with my mom and sisters. It was a little bit harder than I anticipated. Going to stay at your brothers house is not the same as going to stay at your parents house.
Mom: Mom has a room and bathroom to herself and some of her own space, which I know she really appreciates, but it's not the same as having your own house. She's struggling with it. She's struggling with many things, I think. She looks really, really tired. She cries at the drop of a hat. Two of my brothers said they feel like they can never do anything right for her. She is having a hard time. She's struggling financially as well. I had a good talk with her and asked her point blank if she would consider therapy and counseling. I told her I've watched death and loss consume some of my friends and wanted to be sure that didn't happen to her. She said she didn't need it and was doing fine. Overall, I had a good time with her, better than I anticipated. She is a victim, she plays that role well and it's hard to watch. She doesn't take care of herself and is struggling with her health. She said several times how much she misses me and asked if/when I was going to move closer to home. Oh mom, sometimes I want nothing more than to live closer to family. But sometimes, I know I can't. I'm so conflicted about that.
Christmas: Christmas was good. I only got two presents, one from mom and one from my sister-in-law. We spent the day together as a family. I tried to go get hamburgers to honor my dad, but no place was open. No one talked about dad. It was disturbing to me. I tried to do the things I needed to remember and honor him while still allowing others to be where they are in the grieving process. I think I did a good job. I missed him. I missed him very badly. Overall, it was a good day.
Family: There were moments, but overall it was good. At one point in time I told my sister and brother, I wasn't going to talk anymore if they were going to keep attacking me every time I spoke. They gave me weird looks, but stopped. Seriously, we need to learn some emotional skills in my family. It was difficult to be in the home of my brother and sister-in-law who are struggling with their marriage. My brother would benefit so much from some help and she seriously needs to learn to stop being so co-dependent.
Drive Home: My sister and I drove home yesterday. We spent 13 hours in the car together. We hardly spoke. I've learned that she waits for me to talk. She waits for me to bring anything up or to start conversation. I never want to talk because I can't handle a conversation with her. I can't handle her negativity, rudeness, critical nature and narrow point of view. Conversation with her is hard. Plus, I'm always afraid that anything I say will set her off and she'll go crying to her room. I don't want to deal with it -- so I don't. I just don't talk or even try to. I don't like it. I don't like that we don't talk, yet I don't want to do anything about it. I want to run away and move out and not work on it. It's too hard.
Home: I thought I would be happy to be home, but I'm not. I miss my family already. I miss my nephews and my niece. I miss my brothers and my mom. I miss the mountains of home and the snow. I feel very conflicted. I didn't feel like I lost myself while I was home, like I usually do. I felt more authentic than I normally do with them. I miss them. For the first time in the 5 years I've lived here, I feel like leaving. The thought of leaving my ward doesn't paralyze me. The thought of getting out of the rain and grey actually makes me happy. I've always wanted to live closer to my family. Could I actually make that work? But then I think of leaving my therapist, my SA group, my friends, my house and I think, no way. I don't know. Conflicted.
The visit overall went well. I flew in on Monday and spent the day with my mom and sisters. It was a little bit harder than I anticipated. Going to stay at your brothers house is not the same as going to stay at your parents house.
Mom: Mom has a room and bathroom to herself and some of her own space, which I know she really appreciates, but it's not the same as having your own house. She's struggling with it. She's struggling with many things, I think. She looks really, really tired. She cries at the drop of a hat. Two of my brothers said they feel like they can never do anything right for her. She is having a hard time. She's struggling financially as well. I had a good talk with her and asked her point blank if she would consider therapy and counseling. I told her I've watched death and loss consume some of my friends and wanted to be sure that didn't happen to her. She said she didn't need it and was doing fine. Overall, I had a good time with her, better than I anticipated. She is a victim, she plays that role well and it's hard to watch. She doesn't take care of herself and is struggling with her health. She said several times how much she misses me and asked if/when I was going to move closer to home. Oh mom, sometimes I want nothing more than to live closer to family. But sometimes, I know I can't. I'm so conflicted about that.
Christmas: Christmas was good. I only got two presents, one from mom and one from my sister-in-law. We spent the day together as a family. I tried to go get hamburgers to honor my dad, but no place was open. No one talked about dad. It was disturbing to me. I tried to do the things I needed to remember and honor him while still allowing others to be where they are in the grieving process. I think I did a good job. I missed him. I missed him very badly. Overall, it was a good day.
Family: There were moments, but overall it was good. At one point in time I told my sister and brother, I wasn't going to talk anymore if they were going to keep attacking me every time I spoke. They gave me weird looks, but stopped. Seriously, we need to learn some emotional skills in my family. It was difficult to be in the home of my brother and sister-in-law who are struggling with their marriage. My brother would benefit so much from some help and she seriously needs to learn to stop being so co-dependent.
Drive Home: My sister and I drove home yesterday. We spent 13 hours in the car together. We hardly spoke. I've learned that she waits for me to talk. She waits for me to bring anything up or to start conversation. I never want to talk because I can't handle a conversation with her. I can't handle her negativity, rudeness, critical nature and narrow point of view. Conversation with her is hard. Plus, I'm always afraid that anything I say will set her off and she'll go crying to her room. I don't want to deal with it -- so I don't. I just don't talk or even try to. I don't like it. I don't like that we don't talk, yet I don't want to do anything about it. I want to run away and move out and not work on it. It's too hard.
Home: I thought I would be happy to be home, but I'm not. I miss my family already. I miss my nephews and my niece. I miss my brothers and my mom. I miss the mountains of home and the snow. I feel very conflicted. I didn't feel like I lost myself while I was home, like I usually do. I felt more authentic than I normally do with them. I miss them. For the first time in the 5 years I've lived here, I feel like leaving. The thought of leaving my ward doesn't paralyze me. The thought of getting out of the rain and grey actually makes me happy. I've always wanted to live closer to my family. Could I actually make that work? But then I think of leaving my therapist, my SA group, my friends, my house and I think, no way. I don't know. Conflicted.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Birthday
Today is my dad's 63rd birthday. Do you think they celebrate birthdays in heaven? Probably not. They probably don't keep track of age either. I'm not sure how I feel about that -- I like my birthday.
Anyway.... today would have been my dad's 63rd birthday. During the last 6 weeks of his life, as the life drained from him and he began dying, I lived with him and took care of him 24/7. I have some very fond and some very horrible memories from that time. But I have no regrets.
Overall, it's been a good day. I bought a case of Reeses Peanut Butter cups from Amazon last week. I handed them out to everyone today in honor of my dad. They were his absolute favorite candy. His favorite foods were Reeses, Breakfast Burritos from McDonald's, Baconators from Wendy's, the special hamburger with the fried egg on it from Red Robin, Chocolate Cake Donuts with Chocolate frosting, toasted PB&J, bananas, meatloaf, and anything washed down with Diet Coke. Everyone goes with Diet Coke, he told me on countless occasions. He hated cheese. I always remember that.
As his birthday present this year, I bought and donated two flocks of chickens through Heifer International (www.heifer.org). The three things that meant the most to my dad were family, animals and self-reliance. This amazing organization donates animals to families in developing countries to allow them to be more self-reliant and earn a living. I thought it was the perfect thing to honor the heritage he left me. It was fun to do and helped me feel close to him.
One of the things I found just after his passing, was a stack of index cards, with a whole punched in the corner on a ring. They had scriptures printed out in my dad's incredibly straight, block hand writing. I love looking at them and reading through them. I believe he wrote them on his mission and probably memorized them. I had a similar stack from my mission. I cherish them. Mostly because through them, I have connected to his testimony of the gospel and of the atonement of Jesus Christ.
Anyway.... today would have been my dad's 63rd birthday. During the last 6 weeks of his life, as the life drained from him and he began dying, I lived with him and took care of him 24/7. I have some very fond and some very horrible memories from that time. But I have no regrets.
Overall, it's been a good day. I bought a case of Reeses Peanut Butter cups from Amazon last week. I handed them out to everyone today in honor of my dad. They were his absolute favorite candy. His favorite foods were Reeses, Breakfast Burritos from McDonald's, Baconators from Wendy's, the special hamburger with the fried egg on it from Red Robin, Chocolate Cake Donuts with Chocolate frosting, toasted PB&J, bananas, meatloaf, and anything washed down with Diet Coke. Everyone goes with Diet Coke, he told me on countless occasions. He hated cheese. I always remember that.
As his birthday present this year, I bought and donated two flocks of chickens through Heifer International (www.heifer.org). The three things that meant the most to my dad were family, animals and self-reliance. This amazing organization donates animals to families in developing countries to allow them to be more self-reliant and earn a living. I thought it was the perfect thing to honor the heritage he left me. It was fun to do and helped me feel close to him.
One of the things I found just after his passing, was a stack of index cards, with a whole punched in the corner on a ring. They had scriptures printed out in my dad's incredibly straight, block hand writing. I love looking at them and reading through them. I believe he wrote them on his mission and probably memorized them. I had a similar stack from my mission. I cherish them. Mostly because through them, I have connected to his testimony of the gospel and of the atonement of Jesus Christ.
In the April 2012 General Conference, Elder Scott quoted President Joseph F. Smith: "We are closely related to our kindred, to our ancestors... who have preceded us into the spirit world. We cannot forget them; we do not cease to love them; we always hold them in our hearts, in memory, and thus we are associated and united to them by ties that we can not break. Those... who have gone beyond.. can see us better than we can see them; We live in their presence, they see us, they are solicitous for our welfare, they love us now more than ever... their love for us and their desire for our well being must be greater than that which we feel for ourselves."
I believe that. I believe that those who have gone on before me watch over me and have had experiences to confirm that. I will not forget him. I will not cease to love him. I will continue to keep him as part of my life.
I love you dad. Happy Birthday!
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Write
I know there is something serious going on in my subconscious when I stop writing. All emotion is overwhelming to me. If I'm not processing, I'm running. And running usually results in acting out. I process by writing. I can do all the thinking and talking I want, but it's almost like it's not real or meaningful if it's not written down somewhere.
The crying today started at my morning SA meeting. There were only 5 of us, the smallest group I've ever seen at that meeting. Four of the five are LDS. When that reality sets in, I'm always amazed. Within the church we tend to raise a bunch of co-dependents. I digress... I don't really want to analyze church culture. The meeting was good and the shares were really insightful and helpful. This sentence leaped off the page at me during our reading: Indeed, lust was slowly eating away at my capacity to relate on any level with those who really cared for me. That one sentence explains the last 10 years of my life.
After the meeting, I came home and took a nap. I haven't slept much for the past three nights, so it was good to lay there and just enjoy some needed sleep. I got up, got dressed and went to therapy. I started crying nearly the moment I sat down and didn't stop for an entire hour. My eyes were burning by the time I left. The weekly reality check that reminds me that I'm not crazy, that my emotions are normal, that I'm making progress, that I'm dealing with things in a healthy way is a necessity in my life. I can't go a week without it. Last year when I decided to get help, I knew I was going to need an amazing therapist. I checked out the webpage of this clinic thinking I was going to see one of the women therapist. When I saw the picture of my therapist, I had a spiritual confirmation that he was "the one". I called and left a message with probably way more details than he needed, but I knew if I didn't say the words "sexual addiction" right then, when I had the courage, I would never say them. I owe my life to my therapist. He has laughed and cried with me. Today he even said he was having "anticipatory anxiety" (say that 10 times fast) for me going home this next week for Christmas. Last year, during this time, we were doing therapy by phone. I would call once, sometimes twice a week and cry into the phone about everything going on in my life. He was my rock. I emailed him when my dad passed and he helped me get through. I am go grateful for him in my life.
The last few weeks I've felt differently about my life. I look at the people in my life who know about my addiction and know my story and how incredibly kind and accepting them are and I am encouraged. A few days ago I even had the thought that maybe, just maybe, I could have a relationship. Maybe I could find someone to date, someone who could be understanding and who could love me and all my baggage. I've started to feel a little more worthy of that recently as well. We all come with baggage. At least I know about mine and am dealing with it. That's more than most. I'm starting to feel more authentic, more real. I'm starting to feel comfortable with who I am, how I act, and what I say. Life is not so scary anymore. I don't really fear being alone anymore. I may never get married, but I am not, nor will I ever be alone.
Then I sat and watched two super cheesy Christmas movies tonight. Christmas movies are one of my favorite parts of December. I cried through both of them. It felt good to cry.
I've got to keep writing..... I've got to process. Going to bed now.
The crying today started at my morning SA meeting. There were only 5 of us, the smallest group I've ever seen at that meeting. Four of the five are LDS. When that reality sets in, I'm always amazed. Within the church we tend to raise a bunch of co-dependents. I digress... I don't really want to analyze church culture. The meeting was good and the shares were really insightful and helpful. This sentence leaped off the page at me during our reading: Indeed, lust was slowly eating away at my capacity to relate on any level with those who really cared for me. That one sentence explains the last 10 years of my life.
After the meeting, I came home and took a nap. I haven't slept much for the past three nights, so it was good to lay there and just enjoy some needed sleep. I got up, got dressed and went to therapy. I started crying nearly the moment I sat down and didn't stop for an entire hour. My eyes were burning by the time I left. The weekly reality check that reminds me that I'm not crazy, that my emotions are normal, that I'm making progress, that I'm dealing with things in a healthy way is a necessity in my life. I can't go a week without it. Last year when I decided to get help, I knew I was going to need an amazing therapist. I checked out the webpage of this clinic thinking I was going to see one of the women therapist. When I saw the picture of my therapist, I had a spiritual confirmation that he was "the one". I called and left a message with probably way more details than he needed, but I knew if I didn't say the words "sexual addiction" right then, when I had the courage, I would never say them. I owe my life to my therapist. He has laughed and cried with me. Today he even said he was having "anticipatory anxiety" (say that 10 times fast) for me going home this next week for Christmas. Last year, during this time, we were doing therapy by phone. I would call once, sometimes twice a week and cry into the phone about everything going on in my life. He was my rock. I emailed him when my dad passed and he helped me get through. I am go grateful for him in my life.
The last few weeks I've felt differently about my life. I look at the people in my life who know about my addiction and know my story and how incredibly kind and accepting them are and I am encouraged. A few days ago I even had the thought that maybe, just maybe, I could have a relationship. Maybe I could find someone to date, someone who could be understanding and who could love me and all my baggage. I've started to feel a little more worthy of that recently as well. We all come with baggage. At least I know about mine and am dealing with it. That's more than most. I'm starting to feel more authentic, more real. I'm starting to feel comfortable with who I am, how I act, and what I say. Life is not so scary anymore. I don't really fear being alone anymore. I may never get married, but I am not, nor will I ever be alone.
Then I sat and watched two super cheesy Christmas movies tonight. Christmas movies are one of my favorite parts of December. I cried through both of them. It felt good to cry.
I've got to keep writing..... I've got to process. Going to bed now.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Depths
My friend posted this on Facebook today. I'm not a big Facebooker, but I liked this. I have known trials, struggles, loss and am just finding my way out of the depths.
This month has been deep. Last year, I spent November and December at my parents house out of state and took care of my dad until he passed away on December 30, 2011. I find myself oscillating between deep sadness and real gratitude. I miss him, I love him, and then some moments, I'm glad he's gone.
I can tell I'm missing him, when I eat PB&J sandwiches for days on end. The last few weeks of his life that is all he would eat. Or when I randomly order 6 cases of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups from Amazon (did that last week) simply because they were on sale. They remind me of my dad. Sometimes, random thoughts come into my head like, "you need a chocolate donut". I know that's my dad. I don't even like chocolate donuts.
My dad and I never had the best of relationships for many reasons. But when it comes down to it, he was a great dad. He did everything he knew how to do. I can't hold him accountable for things he didn't know how to handle.
Last week, for the first time since his passing, I really wanted a priesthood blessing. I've had so much going on lately and feel so very overwhelmed. I've had several blessings from worthy men other than my father. Probably because I couldn't have one from him, I wanted one so badly.
I absolutely know I will see him again. And I know that day will be wonderful.
In the mean time, I miss him.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Feelings
The need to write is strong in me right now, but I don't really know what is pushing it. I'll try my feelings check in and see if that sparks anything.Shame: I went to the theater with some friends again last night. I went with my gay friend who knows about my sex addiction. It was nice because we both got really dressed up, went to dinner and then to the theater. In some ways, it was less triggering than the last time I went a few weeks ago, but in some ways it was more. When I find myself in situations where I see men that are attractive to me, I find myself almost instantly in sexual fantasy about them. I didn't do that before, at least that I remember. It's disturbing to me. I felt shameful about it last night. It's also frustrating because it's arousing as well. I really enjoyed myself last night though. It was a good time.
Guilt: I don't feel guilty, just overwhelmed. When I get too overwhelmed, I start to feel guilty and start a negative dialog like.... why didn't you manage your time better? why are you so slow at things? etc. etc. Then I talk myself into feeling guilty.
Fear: I've been working with several other musicians and artists in preparing a Christmas program for church as well as preparation for the youth production I'm directing next spring. I have found myself over and over again doubting my own abilities. I'm constantly telling myself that they are better than me and that they won't like what I have to say or how I do things. I'm going to be working with some really talented musicians in the next 6 months and that scares me. What if they don't like what I've done?
Anger: During Primary today a woman came in and tried to have an in depth discussion with me about several things coming up for the ward. I was really frustrated with her interrupting Primary or trying to talk to me while we're trying to keep the kids reverent. I'm not ok with that. I could feel myself getting really angry with her. Finally I just said, can we do this after Primary? She was annoyed, I could tell. I was proud of myself for standing up for my feelings -- but also angry at her reaction. She went ahead and stayed there with her crying baby, causing a disturbance and wrote down what she wanted to tell me. It's little things like this that I have allowed to drive wedges in friendships before, which I recognize is not good. I need to let the whole thing go.
Pain: I haven't been to physical therapy for three weeks. My insurance changed and it's super expensive to go. My hip is in a lot of pain. I need to just bite the bullet and go. I will call and make an appointment tomorrow.
Loneliness: I'm feeling needy today. Lonely, but more than just lonely. I'm feeling emotionally needy. I need to explain to someone everything going on in my life and have them tell me that it's ok. I used to call Steve sometimes and say, "This is what you need to tell me....." I'd go on and explain exactly what I needed to hear in detail. He was really good at repeating it back in a very encouraging tone that made it sound like it was his own words. Wow -- I just realized how healthy that probably was. I knew what I needed, I called and told someone what I needed and asked for it. I don't do that with anyone else. For some reason, it felt safe with him. One day, I will find someone else with whom it feels safe.
Joy: My meeting with the stake youth committee went incredibly well this morning. I was up until 1am preparing for it. I wasn't sure exactly what to do, how to do it, and really wanted to get the youth excited and involved. I prayed about it all night while preparing and this morning over and over again before the meeting. It went better than I imagined it would. I'm feel joyful about it. I'm incredibly excited to be doing this production.
Passion: I see the word passion and I think -- I don't want to feel sensual or sexual. It takes me several seconds, sometimes minutes to disassociate the word passion from sex and realize that you can be passionate about several different things.... this doesn't have to be a report about how you're feeling sexually. I have this talk with myself every time I do this exercise. I don't know if I felt any passion today or feel passionate about anything.
Love: So many people have come up to me recently and complimented me on different things. From the random guy in the store the other day who came back down my isle to tell me how great my smile was, the girl last night in the line at the bathroom who told me how amazing my outfit was, the youth this morning who told me how excited they are to be involved with me, my primary kids today who hugged me, and just lots of other random things going on in my life. I'm grateful for them. I feel loved. I'm trying to accept them and realize that the world really thinks I'm a good person and not the raging sex addict I sometimes identify with more than anything else. People don't see that.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Validation
It's days like these were my therapist earns every dollar.
In one hour of conversation the two weeks of emotional pain wrecking havoc in my life has been lessened significantly. It's kind of a miracle in my life.
It was all about Validation.
I talked and he made sense of my babbling. I explained my emotional distress and he put it in perspective. I talked about my anxiety and he told me it was normal. I told stories of things I handled wrong and he gave me hope of ways to recover. I expressed all my insecurities and he made it better.
A few take-aways to help me remember:
1. As you change your family will do everything to pull you back. The anxiety you feel around that is normal.
2. To feel validated you must actually talk to other people. Working at home alone all day doesn't provide the acknowledgement you need of your existence. Make a connection every day.
3. The anxiety you feel about being close to other people is only because you're not used to it. The longer you stay in the friendship the easier it will become and the less anxious you will feel.
4. Trust yourself. You know what feels right, you know when you're uncomfortable, you know when you don't want to do something. Allow yourself to feel those feelings, allow yourself space to make a decision.
5. Your family is not normal. You are not responsible for their welfare. You are not responsible to fix anyone or anything. They are all adults and can take care of themselves. If they decide not to, that is their choice. If things fall apart, that is also their choice.
You are not your family. And that is a very good thing.
In one hour of conversation the two weeks of emotional pain wrecking havoc in my life has been lessened significantly. It's kind of a miracle in my life.
It was all about Validation.
I talked and he made sense of my babbling. I explained my emotional distress and he put it in perspective. I talked about my anxiety and he told me it was normal. I told stories of things I handled wrong and he gave me hope of ways to recover. I expressed all my insecurities and he made it better.
A few take-aways to help me remember:
1. As you change your family will do everything to pull you back. The anxiety you feel around that is normal.
2. To feel validated you must actually talk to other people. Working at home alone all day doesn't provide the acknowledgement you need of your existence. Make a connection every day.
3. The anxiety you feel about being close to other people is only because you're not used to it. The longer you stay in the friendship the easier it will become and the less anxious you will feel.
4. Trust yourself. You know what feels right, you know when you're uncomfortable, you know when you don't want to do something. Allow yourself to feel those feelings, allow yourself space to make a decision.
5. Your family is not normal. You are not responsible for their welfare. You are not responsible to fix anyone or anything. They are all adults and can take care of themselves. If they decide not to, that is their choice. If things fall apart, that is also their choice.
You are not your family. And that is a very good thing.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Advantage
I'm working on my step work today. I'm on the 4th step: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
My sponsor gave me a series of worksheets to help in completing my inventory. They ask me to make 4 lists and answer a number of questions about each one.
1 - Things I am afraid of; people, places, institutions, principles, etc.
2 - Things I am resentful towards; people, places, institutions, principles, etc.
3 - People I have harmed through action or failure to act.
4 - List of sexual experiences, with whom, what we did, and who was harmed.
I started on my resentment list today. It's long. As I went back to start listing the cause, I noticed a pattern. I'm angry because I feel taken advantage of. And not in just a few cases, but in almost every case.
Take Advantage: capitalize; derive a benefit from; make excessive use of; impinge or infringe upon; Synonyms: exploit, milk, step on, use, use for one's own ends, impose upon, deceive, betray, ensnare
I was just thinking the other day how insecure I feel:
"You know someone is taking advantage of you when you do not feel safe with them. Anytime there is a question about some one's motives, that is an indication that you cannot trust that individual. People who care about you won't try to take advantage of you and you will feel secure around them."
(wiki.answers.com)
This describes my relationships with my sisters exactly:
"If you are being taken advantage of unfairly, it's possible you are dealing with a narcissist. The narcissist believes she is the most important person in the world and does not care about your feelings, which is why she takes advantage of you. In her mind, your needs are dramatically less important than hers because of her imagined superiority, so she doesn't see it as taking advantage at all. She feels entitled to your kindness because she is better than you and everyone else, as far as she is concerned." (ehow.com)
I want to be kind. I want to help and serve others. I feel like that's what the Lord would have me do. Yet, in almost every instance I feel like my kindness, thought fullness, and love was taken advantage of. How do I make it stop? How do I remain true to myself and stop others from taking advantage of me? I don't know how to do that.
My sponsor gave me a series of worksheets to help in completing my inventory. They ask me to make 4 lists and answer a number of questions about each one.
1 - Things I am afraid of; people, places, institutions, principles, etc.
2 - Things I am resentful towards; people, places, institutions, principles, etc.
3 - People I have harmed through action or failure to act.
4 - List of sexual experiences, with whom, what we did, and who was harmed.
I started on my resentment list today. It's long. As I went back to start listing the cause, I noticed a pattern. I'm angry because I feel taken advantage of. And not in just a few cases, but in almost every case.
Take Advantage: capitalize; derive a benefit from; make excessive use of; impinge or infringe upon; Synonyms: exploit, milk, step on, use, use for one's own ends, impose upon, deceive, betray, ensnare
I was just thinking the other day how insecure I feel:
"You know someone is taking advantage of you when you do not feel safe with them. Anytime there is a question about some one's motives, that is an indication that you cannot trust that individual. People who care about you won't try to take advantage of you and you will feel secure around them."
(wiki.answers.com)
This describes my relationships with my sisters exactly:
"If you are being taken advantage of unfairly, it's possible you are dealing with a narcissist. The narcissist believes she is the most important person in the world and does not care about your feelings, which is why she takes advantage of you. In her mind, your needs are dramatically less important than hers because of her imagined superiority, so she doesn't see it as taking advantage at all. She feels entitled to your kindness because she is better than you and everyone else, as far as she is concerned." (ehow.com)
I want to be kind. I want to help and serve others. I feel like that's what the Lord would have me do. Yet, in almost every instance I feel like my kindness, thought fullness, and love was taken advantage of. How do I make it stop? How do I remain true to myself and stop others from taking advantage of me? I don't know how to do that.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Depressed
Depressed..... I think that's how I'm feeling. I'm tired even after 8 hours of continuous sleep. I'm defensive and short with everyone around me. I cry at the drop of a hat and feel overwhelmed by the many tasks ahead of me.
I've felt this way for a few days, maybe even a week. It seems to be growing and growing and spiraling out of control. I so very desperately want it to stop.
The anniversary of my dad's death is coming up in a few weeks. I miss him. This whole month has been hard for me. I spent this time with him last year. I was with him 24/7, taking care of him and watching him slowly deteriorate. I hated it. It was so hard. The whole thing was so hard and I feel like I'm slipping into that again.
My sister brought up living together for another year. I couldn't say no. I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. She kept talking about how if she moved out she'd have to furnish a whole new house, everything in the living room is mine, except the TV. Everything in the kitchen is mine. Nearly everything in the house is mine. I said, don't you just sometimes wish you were living alone again - and she shrugged and said "No, not really." I couldn't say no. I felt like I was abandoning her and my family. The guilt was amazing.
I'm losing myself again.
I've felt this way for a few days, maybe even a week. It seems to be growing and growing and spiraling out of control. I so very desperately want it to stop.
The anniversary of my dad's death is coming up in a few weeks. I miss him. This whole month has been hard for me. I spent this time with him last year. I was with him 24/7, taking care of him and watching him slowly deteriorate. I hated it. It was so hard. The whole thing was so hard and I feel like I'm slipping into that again.
My sister brought up living together for another year. I couldn't say no. I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. She kept talking about how if she moved out she'd have to furnish a whole new house, everything in the living room is mine, except the TV. Everything in the kitchen is mine. Nearly everything in the house is mine. I said, don't you just sometimes wish you were living alone again - and she shrugged and said "No, not really." I couldn't say no. I felt like I was abandoning her and my family. The guilt was amazing.
I'm losing myself again.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Share
I started six different blog posts tonight, but none of them felt authentic. So here I am with lucky number seven.
Tonight, I met with a man from my church to discuss the upcoming musical presentation I am directing. The meeting was good and full of the spirit. Every time he spoke, the spirit bore witness to me of the importance of what I'm doing and witnessed that the direction I'm headed is correct. As I was leaving he said casually, "I encourage you to keep a journal during this process. You will see miracles happen in your own life." The spirit whispered to me, "The Lord is mindful of you and miracles will come."
My eyes filled up with tears as I got into my car. I needed those words. I needed them so very badly. I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity and for the incredible spirit I felt tonight. I was anxious, but left calm. I was sad, but left encouraged. I was worried, but left uplifted. The only thing that can do that is the power of the Holy Ghost.
As I drove home, I felt the urge to share what had just happened. I wanted to tell someone how great I felt about the whole thing. I was instantly lonely. I reached out to five people with phone calls, but no one answered. I prayed aloud in my car, wanting to share my gratitude with someone. The spirit returned and I was no longer lonely. I feel it now, even as I type.
The Lord does make up the difference when we ask.
In every condition, in sickness in health,
in poverty's vail or abounding in wealth,
At home or abroad on the land or the sea,
As thy days may demand so thy succor shall be.
(How Firm a Foundation, Hymns, 85)
Tonight, I met with a man from my church to discuss the upcoming musical presentation I am directing. The meeting was good and full of the spirit. Every time he spoke, the spirit bore witness to me of the importance of what I'm doing and witnessed that the direction I'm headed is correct. As I was leaving he said casually, "I encourage you to keep a journal during this process. You will see miracles happen in your own life." The spirit whispered to me, "The Lord is mindful of you and miracles will come."
My eyes filled up with tears as I got into my car. I needed those words. I needed them so very badly. I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity and for the incredible spirit I felt tonight. I was anxious, but left calm. I was sad, but left encouraged. I was worried, but left uplifted. The only thing that can do that is the power of the Holy Ghost.
As I drove home, I felt the urge to share what had just happened. I wanted to tell someone how great I felt about the whole thing. I was instantly lonely. I reached out to five people with phone calls, but no one answered. I prayed aloud in my car, wanting to share my gratitude with someone. The spirit returned and I was no longer lonely. I feel it now, even as I type.
The Lord does make up the difference when we ask.
In every condition, in sickness in health,
in poverty's vail or abounding in wealth,
At home or abroad on the land or the sea,
As thy days may demand so thy succor shall be.
(How Firm a Foundation, Hymns, 85)
Monday, December 10, 2012
Interpretation
I saw the new James Bond movie tonight on a 6 story high IMAX screen. It was incredible and worth the price tag -- though I got the tickets at a discount. If you haven't seen it and don't want me to ruin the plot...... don't read further.About half way through the movie, when the bad guy is revealed to be a former 007 agent, my mind started spinning. See if you can follow me here.....
After my game of pretend yesterday, I have been obsessed with the idea of interpretation. One of my credos is "numbers never lie." But I know they do. Statistics are some of the most manipulative numbers around. Throw in some clever graphics and you can use the same set of stats to tell two contradicting stories.
I've thought a lot recently about how two children can grow up in the exact same situation and live through the exact same experiences and come out with two totally different interpretations.
Musical interpretation is something I harp on with my piano students weekly. Want to hear the most accurate, perfect pitch music possible, turn on a recording, don't go to a live concert. (Taylor Swift is the perfect example of that.) Yet, concerts sell out consistently. The spontaneous interpretation and emotional connection made with live music keep us returning over and over again. It's not perfection we seek, but connection.
We see this scenario play out in films and TV all the time. Two characters who have had similar experiences in life end up on opposing sides. It happened in Harry Potter with Harry and Voldemort, in Burn Notice, one of my favorite TV shows, between Michael and Larry, and it happened again tonight between Bond and Silva. I watched with great interest, as Silva tried to get into Bond's head and re-interpret his experiences for him, casting blame on M for things gone wrong. I think the film does a good job of showing the wheels work in Bond's head for a few moments as he tries to sort it out and cling to his form of reality. I watch a lot of spy type shows. This idea of re-interpretation is also fascinating to me.
What made the difference for these characters?
Why do people choose one interpretation over the other?
How much of my personal reality is true and how much of it is interpretation?
How much of my interpretation do I let define my reality?
How do I know which of my interpretations are correct?
Have I been allowing my interpretation to hold me hostage and separate me from reality?
The answers to these questions both scare and excite me.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Pretend
Every time I looked in the mirror, I said out loud, "I'm so pretty." Whenever I looked at anyone, while shopping or walking or driving, I smiled and said "Hello." I pretended to be very decisive about everything I wanted and everything I said. When I decorated the house last night, I did everything I wanted and even followed my creative intuition and LOVE my mantle and house. When my sister tried to blame me for giving away her fake tree 6 years ago, I called her on it. When she got upset and said that she did it because she knew I didn't like fake trees, I said "You can't run your life on my thoughts or opinions. That's being co-dependent." She didn't like that very much, but I did.
When fear, anxiety, negativity, and insecurity entered my mind or my heart, I just told myself I was wrong and that everyone loved me and wanted to be with me. And because I was pretending, it really was as simple as that. It took an enormous among of emotional energy, but it felt good.
I was surprised at the number of moments that felt authentic. I was surprised by how much different life felt. I felt happier than I have in days. I'm trying to make some sense of it all. They aren't feelings I have a lot of experience with. I felt safe. I felt accepted. I loved it.
Another big component of the day was prayer. I knelt down yesterday at the beginning of this experiment and gave it all over. I told Heavenly Father that I was done feeling this way and that all I wanted was to do His will and be happy. Every time the shame, anxiety, or negativity came up, I would say a quick silent prayer and try and let it go.
I think this is what they call confidence.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Enough
I sat in my therapist's office yesterday and cried the entire hour. After trying to tear apart and split the layers on the last few weeks of what has felt like emotional torture, it boils down to the same dilemma I've known about for years.
I like myself and who I am, yet my actions don't create the types of relationships I want.
So something has to change. But I don't know where the changing needs to happen. Is it me? Do I have unrealistic expectations of friendship? Do I know what healthy relationships are? Maybe I am surrounded by normal, healthy, friendships and I don't trust it. (That's what my friend said last night at dinner.) Why do I feel so insecure in relationships?
Or is it really my actions that need to change? Maybe I'm really not doing enough? That is how I feel all the time. I feel like there is something more I should/could be doing. I can't sit still, I can't be content. And maybe this is true? Maybe I don't do enough. I feel so selfish all the time. I see women who have it all together along with their really well adjusted 5 kids. I feel like I can barely keep up with my own emotional needs, let alone those of 5 children. I see what they do with their time and wonder what I do with mine.
I read this quote lately in an article about the Atonement:
As to the location, nation, time, and circumstances in which our personal discipleship is placed, we should, as the scriptures say, be content with the things allotted to us (see Alma 29:3, 6).
~~Neal A. Maxwell, Testifying of the Great and Glorious Atonement
Be content with the things allotted to us. That is something that escapes me. I live in a fantasy world. It reminds me of Anne of Green Gables. Marilla says to Anne after she has refused Gilbert, "You've dreamed up some sort of thing you call love and romance in your head. Does he not love you?" (of course that is not a direct quote.... just paraphrasing what I remember.) Have I dreamed up what I think my life should look like, what I think friendship, love, relationships, discipleship, and addiction should look like and hold up this impossible standard? And anything that falls short is unacceptable to me, the perfectionist?
I don't know the answers to any of these questions. But I do know that I am tired of being sad. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of living in fear. I'm tired of being rejected. And I'm tired of feeling inadequate, insignificant and alone. I'm done with it. I can't do it anymore.
I want to feel joy and happiness. I want to feel like singing in the shower again. I want to feel like dancing around my house. I want to feel safe and secure. I want to feel equal to the tasks ahead of me. I want to feel valuable and loved.
I want to be enough. How do I get there?
I like myself and who I am, yet my actions don't create the types of relationships I want.
So something has to change. But I don't know where the changing needs to happen. Is it me? Do I have unrealistic expectations of friendship? Do I know what healthy relationships are? Maybe I am surrounded by normal, healthy, friendships and I don't trust it. (That's what my friend said last night at dinner.) Why do I feel so insecure in relationships?
Or is it really my actions that need to change? Maybe I'm really not doing enough? That is how I feel all the time. I feel like there is something more I should/could be doing. I can't sit still, I can't be content. And maybe this is true? Maybe I don't do enough. I feel so selfish all the time. I see women who have it all together along with their really well adjusted 5 kids. I feel like I can barely keep up with my own emotional needs, let alone those of 5 children. I see what they do with their time and wonder what I do with mine.
I read this quote lately in an article about the Atonement:
As to the location, nation, time, and circumstances in which our personal discipleship is placed, we should, as the scriptures say, be content with the things allotted to us (see Alma 29:3, 6).
~~Neal A. Maxwell, Testifying of the Great and Glorious Atonement
Be content with the things allotted to us. That is something that escapes me. I live in a fantasy world. It reminds me of Anne of Green Gables. Marilla says to Anne after she has refused Gilbert, "You've dreamed up some sort of thing you call love and romance in your head. Does he not love you?" (of course that is not a direct quote.... just paraphrasing what I remember.) Have I dreamed up what I think my life should look like, what I think friendship, love, relationships, discipleship, and addiction should look like and hold up this impossible standard? And anything that falls short is unacceptable to me, the perfectionist?
I don't know the answers to any of these questions. But I do know that I am tired of being sad. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of living in fear. I'm tired of being rejected. And I'm tired of feeling inadequate, insignificant and alone. I'm done with it. I can't do it anymore.
I want to feel joy and happiness. I want to feel like singing in the shower again. I want to feel like dancing around my house. I want to feel safe and secure. I want to feel equal to the tasks ahead of me. I want to feel valuable and loved.
I want to be enough. How do I get there?
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Reaction?
I went out Saturday night. My friend and I went to dinner and then to see a production of White Christmas, one of my most favorite holiday plays/movies. My previous trainer and friend had very randomly text me to invite me. We had been out of contact for a few years, when this random text showed up last week. I was excited to go see him.
As we text about the play he included sentiments like "I'm so excited to see you" and "I can't wait to catch up". He asked me to hang around after the show to see him. While waiting for the show to start, I perused the program and saw his picture and biography, which ended with "Thanks to my wife." There were a few other people listed after that, but wife stopped me. He's married.
He wasn't married when I knew him two years ago. He had been dating a girl, but he kept telling me they weren't serious. Now, I do need to mention that he's 7-8 years younger than me, and although I find him highly attractive, while we were acquainted he never did anything to make me think he thought the same of me. We went out occasionally after the gym, but it was a strictly platonic relationship.
I enjoyed the show immensely. It was well done for community theater with unpaid actors and actresses. I was glad I went. It was triggering for me, but not as bad as I had anticipated. It was extremely helpful to have my friend with me. She was great. I didn't wait around afterwards to see him. I couldn't do it. He's married.
Another friend, who knew about the plans for Saturday, called yesterday to catch up. I told her all about the evening. When I finished, she had quite the reaction. "He's married? Wow. Don't you think it's kind of inappropriate that he text and invited you?" I did think it was a little unusual, yes. "Do you worry you're walking around with some type of hidden sign telling married men you're available?" Ouch. Am I? She was very upset for me. Co-dependent? Yeah, a little. But is there some truth to this? I don't know.
So today, I'm confused. After two years, he text me and invited me to come see him perform. Is that innocent or not? We share a love of music and theatre. We had talked about it before. Is what he did inappropriate? Why can't I answer this question? What type of reaction should I be having to this? I don't even know. Or should I be having a reaction?
Until now, I would have thought this was all my issue. Even when men obviously flirt with me, I assume I'm misinterpreting. I feel like I have no gauge for this kind of thing. None.
He text me afterwards to say he was sorry I didn't wait after the show for him. I couldn't respond. He's married.
As we text about the play he included sentiments like "I'm so excited to see you" and "I can't wait to catch up". He asked me to hang around after the show to see him. While waiting for the show to start, I perused the program and saw his picture and biography, which ended with "Thanks to my wife." There were a few other people listed after that, but wife stopped me. He's married.
He wasn't married when I knew him two years ago. He had been dating a girl, but he kept telling me they weren't serious. Now, I do need to mention that he's 7-8 years younger than me, and although I find him highly attractive, while we were acquainted he never did anything to make me think he thought the same of me. We went out occasionally after the gym, but it was a strictly platonic relationship.
I enjoyed the show immensely. It was well done for community theater with unpaid actors and actresses. I was glad I went. It was triggering for me, but not as bad as I had anticipated. It was extremely helpful to have my friend with me. She was great. I didn't wait around afterwards to see him. I couldn't do it. He's married.
Another friend, who knew about the plans for Saturday, called yesterday to catch up. I told her all about the evening. When I finished, she had quite the reaction. "He's married? Wow. Don't you think it's kind of inappropriate that he text and invited you?" I did think it was a little unusual, yes. "Do you worry you're walking around with some type of hidden sign telling married men you're available?" Ouch. Am I? She was very upset for me. Co-dependent? Yeah, a little. But is there some truth to this? I don't know.
So today, I'm confused. After two years, he text me and invited me to come see him perform. Is that innocent or not? We share a love of music and theatre. We had talked about it before. Is what he did inappropriate? Why can't I answer this question? What type of reaction should I be having to this? I don't even know. Or should I be having a reaction?
Until now, I would have thought this was all my issue. Even when men obviously flirt with me, I assume I'm misinterpreting. I feel like I have no gauge for this kind of thing. None.
He text me afterwards to say he was sorry I didn't wait after the show for him. I couldn't respond. He's married.
Gifts
To the giver of the gifts:
My first semester of college away from my family was miserable for many, many reasons. Once a week without fail a note of encouragement would show up in my mailbox. It hadn't been mailed to me, but was put there by someone in my dorm. It always contained some kind of spiritual quote or thought and a few words of encouragement. Those notes got me through a very difficult time. I still have most of them to this day.
When my house was anomously decorated for my birthday earlier this year in January, I cried. It was my first birthday without my dad and I was feeling alone. Your thoughtful gift was very meaningful to me. When the Valentines cookies appeared, and the skittle rainbows for St. Patrick's Day, I knew this was more than a random occurance. Once a month, for the entire year, you have delivered love, acknowledgement, friendship, validation, and compassion with the small gifts you have dropped at my house.
The beautiful Thanksgiving basket you left at my door confirmed that you know me. You know me well. There were enough cute placemats for all my family coming to visit, as well as enough treats to feed them. The popcorn and children's movie confirmed that you knew I had kids coming to spend time with me. The timing of the gift, the day my family arrived, was evidence of your intimate knowledge of who I am.
I am humbled to know you, whoever you are. This year has been hard, as you probably know. Your monthly visits to my door have meant so much to me. I still have the beautiful blue jar you delievered my May Day flowers in, as well as the African Violet plant you dropped off for some color on a dreary fall day. They serve as daily reminders that someone knows and loves me.
Though I have no way to acknowledge who you are, I will live better because of what you have done for me. I will look for more opportunities to love and acknowledge those around me. Your example of love and service has changed me. And for that I will be forever grateful.
I love you!
Amy
My first semester of college away from my family was miserable for many, many reasons. Once a week without fail a note of encouragement would show up in my mailbox. It hadn't been mailed to me, but was put there by someone in my dorm. It always contained some kind of spiritual quote or thought and a few words of encouragement. Those notes got me through a very difficult time. I still have most of them to this day.
When my house was anomously decorated for my birthday earlier this year in January, I cried. It was my first birthday without my dad and I was feeling alone. Your thoughtful gift was very meaningful to me. When the Valentines cookies appeared, and the skittle rainbows for St. Patrick's Day, I knew this was more than a random occurance. Once a month, for the entire year, you have delivered love, acknowledgement, friendship, validation, and compassion with the small gifts you have dropped at my house.
The beautiful Thanksgiving basket you left at my door confirmed that you know me. You know me well. There were enough cute placemats for all my family coming to visit, as well as enough treats to feed them. The popcorn and children's movie confirmed that you knew I had kids coming to spend time with me. The timing of the gift, the day my family arrived, was evidence of your intimate knowledge of who I am.
I am humbled to know you, whoever you are. This year has been hard, as you probably know. Your monthly visits to my door have meant so much to me. I still have the beautiful blue jar you delievered my May Day flowers in, as well as the African Violet plant you dropped off for some color on a dreary fall day. They serve as daily reminders that someone knows and loves me.
Though I have no way to acknowledge who you are, I will live better because of what you have done for me. I will look for more opportunities to love and acknowledge those around me. Your example of love and service has changed me. And for that I will be forever grateful.
I love you!
Amy
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Want
I don't want to talk. I don't want to feel. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm overwhelmed and exhausted. I drove around the lake two times tonight. Yes, the entire Lake Washington. Then I went to the grocery store at 10:30pm and did my shopping. The entire time I repeated to myself, I don't want to talk about anything.
Yet - here I am, an hour later, somehow drawn to my blog. I did remind myself that I'm PMS-ing, which might be part of the cause of the additional emotions I feel today. But I'm sure it's only part of the cause.
Truly, from the outside, nothing is wrong. I've perfected that skill. I can hold it all together and put on the "It's all good" facade very, very well. My students once got me a bumper sticker that says that -- It's all good. I probably still have it somewhere. But on the inside tonight, I am a total wreck.
I don't want to talk about sex, relationships, my family, dating, my addiction, my issues, my friends, my job or lack there of, my calling, my assignments, or any of the many, many things I feel like I'm failing at.
What I want to do is pack up my car, cash out all my accounts, drive away and start over. That is what I do. Between 17 when I moved to college and 25 when I ended up in California, I moved 14 times. That doesn't include the transfer and such of my mission. That is just the number of apartments I lived in during those 8 years, well 6 1/2 if you take out my 18 month mission. Wow, I moved more than twice every year. That is crazy. But that is what I did to cope.
I hate feeling like this. I can't even figure out what is really going on inside me. I just want it to stop.
Yet - here I am, an hour later, somehow drawn to my blog. I did remind myself that I'm PMS-ing, which might be part of the cause of the additional emotions I feel today. But I'm sure it's only part of the cause.
Truly, from the outside, nothing is wrong. I've perfected that skill. I can hold it all together and put on the "It's all good" facade very, very well. My students once got me a bumper sticker that says that -- It's all good. I probably still have it somewhere. But on the inside tonight, I am a total wreck.
I don't want to talk about sex, relationships, my family, dating, my addiction, my issues, my friends, my job or lack there of, my calling, my assignments, or any of the many, many things I feel like I'm failing at.
What I want to do is pack up my car, cash out all my accounts, drive away and start over. That is what I do. Between 17 when I moved to college and 25 when I ended up in California, I moved 14 times. That doesn't include the transfer and such of my mission. That is just the number of apartments I lived in during those 8 years, well 6 1/2 if you take out my 18 month mission. Wow, I moved more than twice every year. That is crazy. But that is what I did to cope.
I hate feeling like this. I can't even figure out what is really going on inside me. I just want it to stop.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Faith
It doesn't have to be Perfect.
I wrote that on two or three index cards today and put them at strategic places in my house. There is one right next to this monitor. I can feel it staring at me.
I am a believer in the magic formula. It probably is rooted in my love of mathematics. Then again, maybe it's the other way around, and believing in the formula steered me in the direction of mathematics. Either way, in the fantasy world where I've lived most of my life, there is a magic formula for every situation. A few examples:
Beef Top Ramen + Grilled Cheese + Advil PM = No cold
Use when you start to feel stuffy and have a sinus headache.
Prime Factorization of the numbers 1 - 100 = Get to sleep faster
Use when you feel anxious and have trouble falling asleep.
Call every sibling once a week + call mom twice a week > Less Family Drama
Use when the family drama is acting up to cool it down.
Ok, maybe my examples are a little corny, but they are truth in my head. It's the set of rules I live by. It's the magic formula that makes everything better. I'm sure everyone has one or two that they use.
In 9th grade, I learned about mathematical proofs and my whole world was turned upside down. I could actually prove, using concrete logic, that formulas would always do exactly what they say they will do. Nothing else in my entire life could be counted on with that much consistency. But formulas could. In college, I aced Advanced Calculus without trying. We spent hours a day writing and memorizing proofs about mathematical formulas. I was in my element.
Why can't people be like math, I remember asking myself one day. Why don't relationships have formulas. I needed someone to write the formula for turning a friend into a boyfriend. Or the one for what to say when your friend hurts your feelings. I needed:
Do this + Say this + Act like this = friend won't hate you
Say this + Touch arm like this + Look at him this way = He will ask you out on a date
For most of my life, I've operated in this paradigm that somewhere there was a magic formula for everything that would make everything perfect. All I had to do was find the formula and life would be perfect. There is a perfect bread recipe, a perfect brownie recipe, as well as a perfect amount of food I should eat each day. There is a perfect way to talk to people, a perfect way to express yourself in general, and a perfect number of contacts to make so people know you care about them. There is a perfect activity, meal or event for everything. For every problem in life there is a formula to make it better. I spent my life looking for those formulas.
The last few days I've been searching again. I hadn't realized I had even stopped looking, but I had. Recovery gave me the knowledge that no magic formula exists for any situation. People are too complex to lock into a formula. There are simply too many variables to consider.
What is the solution then? Faith. Faith that Heavenly Father loves me and is looking out for my welfare. Faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ, so that when things don't go as well as I would have liked, I can be forgiven and start again. Faith that the Holy Ghost will help me as I make decisions along the way. I have been unwilling to rely solely on Faith. I figured it was only part of the equation. Like faith is only a small part of the formula. Something like:
Me acting perfectly + Fulfilling my covenants + Repenting + Suffering + Faith = Joy and Salvation
The problem is, I could never get past that first part. I can never be perfect by myself.
I have really struggled lately with this concept. Why do I have an addiction if God loves me? Why can't I have relationships and children of my own if God is truly looking out for my welfare? Why must I suffer and feel so much pain? Why is my family dysfunctional? Why, when I am trying so very, very hard do I continue to struggle? Then I found this quote:
But - I am grateful. I am grateful for the atonement. I am grateful for the knowledge of the gospel and the plan of life and salvation. I am profoundly grateful for the relationship I am developing with my Savior. I am learning more and more how completely reliant I am on my Heavenly Father. I am learning more and more about how important relationships with people are. And if it took an addiction for me to figure that all out, then so be it.
I wrote that on two or three index cards today and put them at strategic places in my house. There is one right next to this monitor. I can feel it staring at me.
I am a believer in the magic formula. It probably is rooted in my love of mathematics. Then again, maybe it's the other way around, and believing in the formula steered me in the direction of mathematics. Either way, in the fantasy world where I've lived most of my life, there is a magic formula for every situation. A few examples:
Beef Top Ramen + Grilled Cheese + Advil PM = No cold
Use when you start to feel stuffy and have a sinus headache.
Prime Factorization of the numbers 1 - 100 = Get to sleep faster
Use when you feel anxious and have trouble falling asleep.
Call every sibling once a week + call mom twice a week > Less Family Drama
Use when the family drama is acting up to cool it down.
Ok, maybe my examples are a little corny, but they are truth in my head. It's the set of rules I live by. It's the magic formula that makes everything better. I'm sure everyone has one or two that they use.
In 9th grade, I learned about mathematical proofs and my whole world was turned upside down. I could actually prove, using concrete logic, that formulas would always do exactly what they say they will do. Nothing else in my entire life could be counted on with that much consistency. But formulas could. In college, I aced Advanced Calculus without trying. We spent hours a day writing and memorizing proofs about mathematical formulas. I was in my element.
Why can't people be like math, I remember asking myself one day. Why don't relationships have formulas. I needed someone to write the formula for turning a friend into a boyfriend. Or the one for what to say when your friend hurts your feelings. I needed:
Do this + Say this + Act like this = friend won't hate you
Say this + Touch arm like this + Look at him this way = He will ask you out on a date
For most of my life, I've operated in this paradigm that somewhere there was a magic formula for everything that would make everything perfect. All I had to do was find the formula and life would be perfect. There is a perfect bread recipe, a perfect brownie recipe, as well as a perfect amount of food I should eat each day. There is a perfect way to talk to people, a perfect way to express yourself in general, and a perfect number of contacts to make so people know you care about them. There is a perfect activity, meal or event for everything. For every problem in life there is a formula to make it better. I spent my life looking for those formulas.
The last few days I've been searching again. I hadn't realized I had even stopped looking, but I had. Recovery gave me the knowledge that no magic formula exists for any situation. People are too complex to lock into a formula. There are simply too many variables to consider.
What is the solution then? Faith. Faith that Heavenly Father loves me and is looking out for my welfare. Faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ, so that when things don't go as well as I would have liked, I can be forgiven and start again. Faith that the Holy Ghost will help me as I make decisions along the way. I have been unwilling to rely solely on Faith. I figured it was only part of the equation. Like faith is only a small part of the formula. Something like:
Me acting perfectly + Fulfilling my covenants + Repenting + Suffering + Faith = Joy and Salvation
The problem is, I could never get past that first part. I can never be perfect by myself.
I have really struggled lately with this concept. Why do I have an addiction if God loves me? Why can't I have relationships and children of my own if God is truly looking out for my welfare? Why must I suffer and feel so much pain? Why is my family dysfunctional? Why, when I am trying so very, very hard do I continue to struggle? Then I found this quote:
"Jesus instructs us.... that we are to come unto Him. However, as you have noticed, when we strive to come unto Him, we come to see how He will then make our weaknesses better known to us, sometimes painfully, in order to help us progress. Christ even promises us that He will make some weaknesses into strengths."Though that concept is not unfamiliar to me, the way Elder Maxwell words it feels profound. "He will make our weaknesses better known to us, sometimes painfully, in order to help us progress." Wow. At an SA meeting last week someone shared that the one gift their addiction gave them was a need and reliance on their higher power. Is that what I am to learn from my addiction? Did it really take this much pain for me to surrender completely to Heavenly Father. Obviously, it did.
~~Neal A. Maxwell, "Testifying of the Great and Glorious Atonement"
But - I am grateful. I am grateful for the atonement. I am grateful for the knowledge of the gospel and the plan of life and salvation. I am profoundly grateful for the relationship I am developing with my Savior. I am learning more and more how completely reliant I am on my Heavenly Father. I am learning more and more about how important relationships with people are. And if it took an addiction for me to figure that all out, then so be it.
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