My first boyfriend

I've always known that my dad and I had issues.  We never got along like he did with my sisters.  He took me along to do all the work, but never played with me.  Our relationship was always strained.  He was always obsessed with my weight and dieting, suggesting I have weight loss surgery. 

In the past few weeks I've learned more about my dad than I probably ever wanted to know.  First it was that he cheated on my mom.  I got through that one.  But recently it was that he had a pornography problem. 

My first thought?  "That explains a lot.  I'm not pretty enough.  That is why he didn't like me." 

Seriously, that was my first thought.  How sad is that. 

During therapy today it was suggested that your dad is kind of like your first boyfriend.  From him you learn what kind of treatment you deserve, how men should speak to women from experience or from watching him speak to your mom, and even what relationships look like in general. 

Tears streamed down my face as my therapist described this analogy and related a story to me, because -- it's true.  Your dad is kind of like your first boyfriend. 

And these are the results of that in my life:

-- Every man I've dated has been an addict.  Two of which I met while acting out.  Three of which know nothing about my addiction, nor did I act out with them.  If given up a line-up of men, I seem to always pick the addict. 

-- Even the friends I choose have addiction in their lives.  T's husband has a serious porn addiction, L's battling her own food addiction, M has his own battle with sexuality, E has sexual abuse in her past and is not sexual anorexic.  You could say that addiction is just that common, and I believe that is true.  But seriously, I pick broken people without even knowing they're broken. 

-- Every sexual experience I have ever had has been addictive.

-- I started my addiction using sexuality to attract and retain men in my life because nothing else worked and I didn't feel attractive. 

-- I used sexuality as a solution to any argument or difference of opinion I had with men.

But I think the hardest ones to examine are how I feel because of what I learned from him:

-- I don't believe I am worthy of a relationship.  I don't feel like a man would ever choose to be with me for the rest of my life because of the way I look. 

When it comes down to it, I want a man to choose to be with me.  No man, ever in my life, has made that choice. 

I've tied all of this up in my appearance.  It's what I use as the reason and excuse that men don't choose me.  As I've been thinking about dating and have felt lonely recently, this has become a bigger issue than it was before. 

There is a John Mayer song -- "Daughters" -- that I've had a love/hate relationship with.  I enjoy the song, but remember someone once telling me how unrealistic it is.  But today, it has new meaning:

You see that sin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left, cleaning up the mess he made

My dad didn't physically leave our family, but emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually he left our family years and years ago.  My mom turned to me to fill the void and I became the family rescuer.  At 7 -- on a hike with the family, he took a nap and left me responsible for the 4 little kids at the lake.  At 8 -- he made me cut a fishing hook out of my brothers head because he couldn't handle blood.  At 9 -- I was responsible for cleaning the carpets with the big hot water machine.  At 13 -- I threw a paper route to support the family.  At 16 -- I wrote my dad's resume and cover letter for a job he wanted.  At 35 -- I moved home and took care of him until he died from cancer, changing his diapers, showering him, picking him up off the ground when he fell.  And now, at 37 -- I'm cleaning up after him again, trying to help my mom sort out the emotional mess he left with her, and my own emotional baggage. 

The major problem comes from the fact that he is my dad and not just a boyfriend.  I could break up with a boyfriend.  How do you break up with your dead father? 

Guilt vs. Shame

I read this on a blog today:

"I’m realizing just how powerful shame is. More than any other emotion, shame separates us from ourselves and from others. Guilt doesn’t do that. When I feel guilty about something I often work to make it right. But when I feel shame about something I work to hide it. That’s the difference. Shame wants to hide. Shame does not want to be seen or noticed. Shame becomes defensive and angry and resentful and bitter. It gnaws away at us and drives us deeper into the dark pit of despair, breeding feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness spiraling us to great depths of hiding. Shame convincingly tell us the lie that if we are seen and known we will not survive."

I love this definition of the differences between guilt and shame.  I've read a lot about shame and experienced a lot of shame.  I've already read a lot about guilt.  But I haven't succinctly seen the differences written out like this.

Guilt motivates me to change.  When I feel guilt about something, I work to make it right.

Shame motivates me to hide.  When I feel shame, I want to fall away into the darkness.

After reading this and the rest of the post -- which is awesome -- I thought about the things in my life that I am still hiding from and not changing. 

-- My food addiction / appearance issues

That is the major one..... of course I can think of many, many more.  But that is the one I know is holding me back right now.

I also know the only way to shed the shame is to talk about it and putting it out there on the internet on an anonymous blog, doesn't count.  You have to say it out loud to people who know you. 

It's interesting to me that I am willing to go to a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting and talk about sex, masturbation, lust, pornography, etc., but I am too ashamed to say: I also have a food addiction.  The years I wasn't acting out sexually, I was acting out with food.  Sure, I've told some people about seeing a nutritional therapist.  But for whatever reason, there is still a large layer of shame around this food / appearance / body image issues.  I need to figure out how to break it down.

Why do I do this?  Why do I even write on this blog or write at all?  I'm not the poster child for recovery.  I struggle everyday.  Every. Single. Day.

Today's problems in random order:
Sleep:  I can't sleep.  Since surgery I've been trying to get back to some kind of regulated sleep pattern.  The harder I try, the worse it gets.  I'm exhausted.  I've two night of really crummy sleep.  I finally fall asleep around 2 or 3 in the morning and then sleep until 9 or 10, only perpetuating the problem.  Today, I had to get up because of therapy and I'm determined to keep myself up all day, no naps.   But I'm struggling.  I've lost control of my emotions and cry all the time.  Also - I struggle with fantasy in the middle of the night.  It's my go to drug to fall asleep.

M:  M text me last night and wants me to meet him in Cali for the weekend.  I want to go..... but I can't.  It's too triggering.  It's too much like weekends with Steve.  M and I don't have a physical relationship, and he is very safe for me usually.  But with this lack of sleep scenario and it being Cali, my old stomping ground, I can't go.  And I'm pissed about it. 

Money:  For a year now, I've lived on my savings account and a little income from consulting.  That money is running low.  I need to find a job and move on with my life.  I need to move into the next phase of my life.  I think I've keep hold of this position with my old company hoping that things would change I could go back.  That's not going to happen.  And honestly, now that I live in UT, if it did happen and they wanted me back, I wouldn't go.  I want to be here.  So I need to commit to being here and find a job. 

Looking for Work:  I HATE looking for work.  I hate putting myself out there for the possibility of rejection.  I hate it.  I hate the long shot that submitting resumes and applying for jobs is.  I just want to walk into the company I want to work for, demonstrate my skill set, talk to them for a few minutes to decide if I really want to work there and then get a job.  Why can't it be that way?  I want them to romance me and want me.  I just have a hard time with the process.

Food:  I hate food.  I hate eating.  I hate preparing food and planning food to eat.  I hate that it is this thing in my life that I'm struggling with.  It feels overwhelming.  I know I need to eat and because I don't plan well, I just end up eating whatever is around the house.  I know it's not right, but it's just this thing in my life that I'm struggling with.  I hate it.  I'm  hungry all the time and I'm scared to eat because I never eat the right thing.

Friends:  All my friends are back in WA and I miss them desperately. Making new friends is hard.  I don't want to do it.  Everyone has someone.  Everyone but me. 

Trapped:  I've been here before.  This isn't anything new.  I feel like I should be past these cycles already.  There is that word -- should -- I'm never in a good place when I start using that work. 

There is more...... But frankly, listing all the issues only make the issues bigger.  I get to a certain point where even listening to my own crap just bores me.  Blah blah blah, whine whine whine whine.  Stop it all ready.  Put on your big girl pants and do something about it.

So here is the plan:
Now - Make my bed, Start the laundry, Clean the Bathroom, Take a shower and get dressed
Next - Get something to eat including a large diet coke for the caffeine
Last - Go to the store:  food and Melatonin tablets

If anything else happens today -- then I'm awesome.  But right now these things have to happen.

Lonely

It wasn't until I started making comments to the newscaster tonight, that I realized what was going on.

I'm lonely.

It started over the weekend.  I went to an SA retreat and was jealous of all the couples I saw there.  Yes, their lives are probably not great at the moment and some of them looked to be really struggling, but they had someone to struggle with.  At least that is what I was telling myself. 

Last night I attended an SA meeting and went to dinner afterwards with a great friend.  I loved having someone to bounce ideas off of, to talk about addiction and life and family with.  We sat for a few hours with easy conversation.  We were interrupted by a text from his girlfriend.  It's good, I don't want to date him or anything similar.... I was just jealous of the relationship.

Today, my BFF M from Seattle had a 4 hour lay over in SLC.  He called and I picked him up from the airport for lunch.  I miss him.  I miss the easy conversation, the natural relationship, the fun, the laughing, the jokes.  Again, I don't want to date him.... I just miss the friendship.

Tonight, I made really great food for dinner.  Grilled chicken, saffron rice and this great avocado, tomato, lime dressing thing.  Trust me, it was fantastic!  And you'll have to trust me since there was no one to call and share it with. 

I made bread and had no one to tell me how awesome it smelled. 

I worked on my therapy homework and when it got overwhelming I didn't have someone to hold my hand for a few minutes and remind me that it is all the past.

I'm ready to not be alone anymore. 

But not for all of the reasons I've had in the past.  Not because I need validation or love.  Not because I'm tired of making decisions alone.  Not because I need someone to take care of me.  I find validation when I need it now.  I make decisions and don't run away from them.  I take care of myself and do the things I need to do to be happy and stay connected to Heavenly Father. 

No, I want something different than what I have ever wanted before.  I want to share my life and share in someone else's.  I want to be seen and appreciated and valued.  I want to see someone else and appreciate them and value the contribution they make to the world.  

And it would help if he liked science fiction as much as I do.  But if not, I'm sure we could still work it out. 

Advocate

When I first began recovery, I struggled.  I've always felt like a spiritual person.  I had, what felt to me, like a strong relationship with my Higher Power, whom I call my Heavenly Father.  I knew about prayer, the Holy Ghost, personal revelation, and seeking the God's will for my life.  These were not foreign concepts for me as they are for some.  But I still struggled to stay sober, struggled to reconcile my 'spirituality' with what felt like an evil, addictive dark side.  The question, which part of me is real?, haunted me for months. 

One Friday morning, resentful and angry, I sat in an SA meeting.  I noticed a few men talking about the temple before the meeting.  I knew by their discussion that they were members of my same faith.  One of them, still not sure of his name, shared during the meeting about his spiritual transformation.  He talked about how he had always viewed God as the great punisher, how his relationship with God had always been more of an adversarial relationship.  His prayers were always long apologizes about what he wasn't doing right, wasn't doing enough of, or just plain wasn't doing.  He never felt he could ask for help when he wasn't even doing all that God had asked him to do.  His sponsor helped him shift his paradigm about this relationship.  He looked to God now as more of a coach.  "We are on the same side" he explained, "and both want me to be better". 

The nature of my relationship with my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, changed that day.  It didn't happen over night or all at once.  I started saying things in my prayers like: I know we're on the same side and I know thou wants me to be better at this, but I need help.  And when I prayed, it wasn't a laundry list of all the things I wasn't doing anymore, it slowly became a coaching session of ways to be more effective, ways to be of service, ways to take care of myself and ways do His will.  I prayed for help and was confident help would come.

One particularly rough day a few months later, I knelt at the side of my bed to say my evening prayers.  I desperately wanted to stay sober, but felt overwhelmed with the sadness of my father's illness, the struggles with my family and the chaos at work.  I recited the words to a hymn over and over during my prayers and reminded my Heavenly Father, that He promised to help me "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," and that "as thy days may demand, so thy succor shall be."  I clearly remember the feeling of peace that came into my heart and words in my mind "I got this tonight, I promise.  Get some sleep."  I slept long and sound that night. 

Today, rather than my adversary, the Lord has become my advocate.  From the dictionary:  Advocate:  One that supports or promotes the interests of another.  I love this scripture: "Behold, and hearken... saith the Lord your God, even Jesus Christ, your advocate, who knoweth the weakness of man and how to succor them who are tempted." (Doctrine and Covenants 62:1) 

He is my advocate even knowing my weakness.  He is my advocate and knows how to coach me and nurture me who is tempted all the time in addiction.  I don't have to be perfect to ask Him for anything.  I wouldn't need a coach or an advocate if I was perfect. 

And this scripture:  "Listen to him who is the advocate with the Father, who is pleading your cause before him -- Saying: Father, behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin, in whom thou wast well pleased; behold the blood of thy Son which was shed, the blood of him whom thou gavest that thyself might be glorified; Wherefore, Father, spare these my brethren and sisters who believe on my name, that they may come unto me and have everlasting life."  (Doctrine and Covenants 45: 3-5)

Many call addiction a spiritual disease, a great spiritual misconnection, and say they were trying to fill their God-hole with sex or alcohol or drugs or food or whatever was their choice.  I get that.  Until I started to understand the true nature of God and my true relationship with Him, I would do anything to feel better.  And as that relationship has changed and increased, the hole has been filled.  I don't feel the desire to act out the way that I used to.  I'm not perfect, nor do I always think straight about it, but my true desire for addiction or acting out behaviors is gone.  In fact, it makes me sick sometimes to think of the things I have done in the past. 

I have seen so many abandon their faith, their God, their religion searching for a "God of their understanding" as the Big Book of AA and the White Book of SA encourage people to do.  But rather than throw the baby out with the bathwater, why not examine the paradigm in which you have been approaching the God you have now?  Could a relationship shift or paradigm shift help you see the true nature of that God.  If you haven't been successful at relationships with others, why do you think you've been successful in your relationship with God?  It makes me sad to watch so many turn from a faith and Heavenly Father who could really help them, who wants to help them, who is advocating for them everyday. 

Tired

What they don't warn you about in surgery is how easily you tire afterwards.  I have to take a nap after I take a shower.  Seriously, it's that bad. 

I'm supposed to walk 3/4 mile everyday this week.  I got on the elliptical machine this morning and felt pretty stable at 3/4 mile - so I just finished the mile.  Getting off the machine was hard because my leg was shaking so bad.  I pushed it too far.  Even now, two hours later, I'm still sweating and leg and hands are shaky.

The problem is I don't want to nap anymore.  I want to work, to clean, to create, to reclaim my life.  I don't want to take pain meds (I'm not in pain) that cause me to feel unfocused and cloudy.  I'm tired of being tired.  I'm tired of resting.  I want my energy back!

Surgery

It's over.  Let the healing begin.

After 16+ years of limping and coping with pain in my right hip joint, I had it replaced.  What an adventure it has been.  I made the mistake a few weeks before of watching the surgery on a YouTube video.  I seriously considered cancelling.  I was horrified by what I saw.  The dislocation of the hip, the deep, deep incision, the cutting of muscle and tissue to even find the joint.  Then they take a mini chain-saw to you and cut off your bone, drill into others and then literally hammer these replacements into place.  The whole thing left me sick.  However, the week before surgery, I had two priesthood blessings.  Both which said I would make a quick and full recovery.  I wasn't worried after that.

I had surgery on a Monday morning.  I was nervous, but more just anxious for it to start and be over.   The various doctors and nurses all came and introduced themselves to me.  Questions answered, clothes changed, IV's started, everything came so fast.  They numbed me from about the chest level down and then put me to sleep.  Next thing I remember was the woman taking X-rays of my hip after the surgery.  Then they wheeled me up to the recovery room. 

The first few days were horrible.  They wanted me to walk just a few hours after surgery.  I couldn't even fathom it.  The pain, the medication, the walking, the people, the ice, all seem like a blur.  I remember saying I was hungry, but throwing up everything I ate, I was so sick.  After my stomach and bowels were numb for a long period of time, they didn't want to start again.  It was hard.  The nurses were amazing, the doctor was amazing.  People took really good care of me.  (I just wrote a note of thanks to the staff at the hospital.  Really, they took great care of me.) 

After just three days at the hospital, I discharged to a rehabilitation center for a week.  Again, I had great doctors and nurses who took really great care of me.  It was awesome.  For a week I was able to focus on getting better.  I did physical therapy twice a day and occupational therapy daily.  I was walking by the time I left.  My mom came up almost every day to see me.  My brothers all came to visit as well.  It was good. 

Coming home was good, but hard.  I had to get up and down a lot more and take care of my own needs like ice, water, medication, bathing, food, etc.  It has been good though. 

Here I sit -- almost three weeks since surgery -- and am completely independent.  In fact, today, I wore jeans.  Every day, I claim back a little more of my life.  Today, it was jeans.  My scar is healing and much less swollen.  It doesn't feel like I have a huge bandage on my side anymore.  It's really good. 

I feel really grateful today.  Grateful for the priesthood and the miracles of priesthood blessings.  Grateful for surgeons and doctors who have made such great medical devices like artificial hips.  Grateful for insurance, grateful for family, grateful for healing.  I'm grateful to have this behind me.  I'm grateful for the new beginning in front of me.  My life was always on hold because of my pending surgery.  Now, I can move forward.  And forward I will go!