Augh. Life is hard.

This past month has been a roller coaster.
And part of me just wants to be done.

Except that I can't.
I have to keep trudging.
I hate trudging.

In the past month I have felt so lonely, lost and alone. I've been so homesick for the UK. I've felt triggered and tempted and had memories of fantasies and books come back very strongly and clearly. I've literally had to physically move to resist temptation.

The loneliness I can fix, so I tried to get involved with local Single Adult group. Still haven't made any friends. It seems very cliquish. I'm still going, just without a lot of enthusiasm.

And then my dad contacted my brother for his birthday, which means I'm probably next.
I do feel that I have forgiven my father, but there's no desire to have anything to do with him. I just want him to leave me alone. The worry about it, coupled with the ache of wanting to have a dad, has added stress.

Then, Friday at work, a co worker saw me reading my Nook and teased me about reading a romance novel. Which stung because I don't want people to think that. He was just teasing.
So I went to group. I was the only one.

Group is what gets me through these times.
I struggle with the fear that I will be stuck here forever.
I know that I need to work on things, the program, my prayers, etc., and I'm trying to do that.
Today I'm fasting for myself, for help.
I'm working on being grateful. For a beautiful cloud, for rain, for the blessings that I do have, like an apartment I love. My cats. My family. My car.
The Gospel.
The Book of Mormon.

Last weekend, I went to the temple for the first time in months. I'm scheduling two regular days a month to go. I cannot miss those dates. :)
So, I don't have all the answers.
Today has been emotionally rough in a lot of ways. A lesson I taught which I didn't think went well at all. Finding out that Elder Holland was in my UK ward today. I miss it so much and I try not to live in the past.
And I missed the sacrament.
At times like these, it's so easy to beat myself up. Which starts a vicious cycle where it's hard to get up in the morning. I could just sit on my couch playing games on my phone.

Today I'm watching Church videos. I'm fasting until 5:30. I'm writing this blog, which helps.
Our Sunday School lesson today was about Zacchæus. Who wants to see the Savior so desperately, that he climbs a tree.

What I love, though, is that the Savior knows where he is and he calls Zacchæus by name.

"And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zacchæus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house."

A small reminder that the Lord knows me.

I still struggle with addiction. I still struggle with the addict tendencies and character weaknesses in my life. Yet, the Savior knows where I am and He knows my name.

We have to pass through trouble. With the hope that it will get better.

I'm holding on to that hope today.

Literally and figuratively

The night I left the UK, I received a blessing. In it I was promised a marriage (in this lifetime, so it could be when I'm 98) and then I was told that I would wander through the desert for a time.

Last Sunday, as I was driving back to Utah from a great Time Out For Women, I was thinking about all this.
I'd missed church that day. At my favorite ward! So my mom and I lay in bed and talked for a long time. About my depression. About what I should be doing.
I listened to a conference talk on the way home and then talked to Heavenly Father.
The TOFW was great. It really was nice. I took a lot of notes so I can go back and read them.
A lot about setting goals, achieving dreams, and becoming women of God. I think I liked all the presentations. And I cried.
Because life is hard right now.
I have a job that I'm fairly good at. But I don't love it.
I hardly hear from my family. My mom I talk to every day, but my brothers I hardly ever hear from, or it's a text to all of us. I don't think I've talked to them in weeks. I have friends at work, but I don't really have friends to go hang out with.
I am lonely and alone.

When I received that blessing, I didn't realize the Lord meant I would wander through the desert literally and figuratively.

Somewhere deep down, though, I must know it's going to be okay. I get out of bed every morning. I turn thoughts, emotions, triggers, and temptations over to my Heavenly Father. This program taught me how to do that.
Friday I had a bad experience at work and, shopping afterward, I kept getting hit with pornographic images in my head. I couldn't figure out why until I realized it was because I was mad!
So I turned the incident over to the Lord. I tried to analyze why I'd gotten mad and I figured out because I felt it was personal and I wasn't supported. But I didn't just try to fix my emotional state on my own, I asked the Lord for help.
Also, I need to quit reading stuff online. Sheesh. I caught myself reading a movie plot that contained a description of a sex scene and then I was mad at myself for the rest of the day because I was fighting off triggers. That's a goal for this week.

At PASG this week, I shared an analogy. Most of the attendees were new and when I say I've been in recovery for four years, the new ones usually look overwhelmed.
Four years ago I thought I would be done and fixed by now. And here I am not even finished with the program! ha ha ha.
Anyway, I recently had a physical. I was really, really nervous because I HATE needles. The last time I had blood drawn, I ended up throwing up and being taken out in a wheelchair. Yes, I'm aware that I could do the physical without the blood work, but I felt that I needed to do it. Dang it, I knew I could do it!
So I prayed. I asked people to pray for me. I did relaxation exercises. I told myself that I could do this. I've given blood once before (this was before the last traumatic needle experience) and that became my mantra. "I did it before. I can do it now."
And... I did it!
That's how recovery is. There's this big, scary fear that we know we can't overcome. So we pray, we turn to others, we read the scriptures, we work the program and then we rely on the Lord. We let our Savior help us.
My life isn't magically fixed. I still have sad days. I struggle to feel a part of my ward. Being in your 30s and single is hard! To be honest, last night I completely tuned out of Women's Conference when it was announced that the special videos would be about families. I didn't want to hear about families.  I'm not close to my own family right now and my "future" family is some distant mirage. So I only half listened. I will repent and watch it again. :)

My life is... good. I love where I live. I love my landlords. My ward is really cool. I'm learning to be content with what I have.
I do love PASG. I love coming on here and reading the blogs. They help me.
I'm working on just scheduling out my days. I'm going to go to FHE tomorrow for the Mid-singles. I'm going to pray and read good books and be happy in the moment.
I probably should fit Step 11 in there somewhere. But that's a blog post for another day...

For General Conference, I'm going to pray to hear the messages for me. I did this my first conference after I started recovery and every single talk, every single song touched me as a message from my Heavenly Father. Try it. Ask that this Conference your heart and mind be open to the message your God and Father wants you to know.

I get back up again.

I haven't been working Step 10.
I'm on Step 11, but I still need to be working Step 10. It's been a whirlwind time.
Things with the stupid crush did not resolve themselves, but considering that he just left work for a long time, without saying good bye, pretty much shows me where I stand.
I am worth more than that.
So I'm going to have a little fire, in a fire safe zone, and say goodbye and move on.

Starting with Step 10. I haven't been making a schedule. I haven't been caring for myself physically, spiritually or emotionally. I've been depressed.
So, here on this blog, I'm going to start changing that. I'm going to Institute (which I did last week. I wasn't impressed, but I'm going to try again or find another one). I'm going to find something creative, like singing or writing, to do one night a week. I'm going to go to the temple more often.

I realized this because I've been struggling with thoughts, temptations and triggers this past week. That's a sure sign I am not working recovery fully.
I've been slacking in my scripture study. Not reading a lot and letting 1 or 2 verses count.
They don't.

It's not just a boy. I'm feeling a little lost. The job might be ending soon. I'm not where I want to be professionally or personally and I struggle with that. There's trials for my family and friends.
But each day is a new day. I can try again. So I'm going to. Starting tonight with getting to bed at a decent hour.

I press forward in the hope that there is happiness ahead. Better happiness. I choose to be happy today. To do my best and let God do His part.
That's all we can do, isn't it?

This I know, God is for me.

Straws and camels

My heart was heavily dented last week.
Long story short, my crush decided, after two weeks of putting me off, to confess that he was actually "kinda" dating someone else. And... ugh it's a long story. It ends with a battered heart.

At that moment when this landed on me, I think the last few months, so precariously balanced in my heart, body, and mind, broke and fell. I cried in the bathroom at work. I came home, vented to my roommate, and cried some more. I went for a walk. I was furious, I was mad, I was weak, I was frail, I was hurt, I was stunned, I was sad, I was heartbroken.  I kneeled for prayers that night and sobbed and cried harder than I have in months. Why. Why. Why. Why did this have to happen. Why did it have to hurt so much.
I also printed off his picture and went to a construction site and burned it. I listened to "Forget You." That felt good.
Part of me didn't want to go to group, but I knew I needed to go.
As I was driving there, and thinking about him and overanalyzing, the thought came that he wouldn't want me, because I'm an addict.
But then I thought... No, I am not just an addict. I am awesome! I am more than my addiction.

Group was just what I needed that night. I love that program so much. I am so glad I went.

Then the panic attacks started the next morning. I knew it wasn't just him. It was the past few months and yesterday. I was a camel and I'd had my last straw.
I really wanted to just sit home and cry that day, but I didn't. I kept busy. I went out with friends. I went to the temple, which was good. One worker told me that the people I was doing the work for would find me and thank me one day. I felt needed.
I even got to sit in the celestial room and pray.
I went out for yogurt, even though I was ill and panicky. I breathed.
Sunday I went and met with my Bishop. I told him about my addiction. We talked. I got a blessing. Then I came home and slept and only attended part of church because I felt so panicky and ill. Not fun.

It's hard. Part of me is embarrassed for what happened. Misread signals? I don't know. My confidence took a huge hit. Ugh. It's such a struggle. Also, my little abused girl keeps coming up, the "please love me, if I do this, will you love me?" aspect of me. And my obsessive thinking keeps kicking in. So helpful. My emotions are still all over the place. Let's just say the boy left things kinda up in the air.
I'm working on turning all this over to my Heavenly Father. I move forward. I strive. I try not to yield.
I need a punching bag.

So I acknowledge my feelings. I acknowledge my failings. I listen to Conference talks. I read the scriptures. I am working on Step 11. I have these meditations on Healing and Banishing Depression (or thoughts), so I'm doing those as well. I still struggle. Part of me just wants to sit and play Candy Crush all day. And sometimes I do that and then I snap out of it and go do something else.

I will get through this. I will move forward. It won't be forever. I will go for walks or go swimming instead of eating the pound of fudge in my house. I will have a bit of the fudge.
I will go to work, I will do my best to work hard. I will turn my life over to the Lord. No, I'm not perfect at this.
I will be honest. I've fantasied a bit about having a boyfriend when I see this guy next. I've imagined conversations. I've been hurt and angry. Memories, triggers and temptations have been around a lot and it is soooooo tempting to give in. I know it would be a relief, yet I know that relief would only last for a second and then the guilt would overwhelm me and it's not worth that.

So, I don't know what is going to happen. I know I will make it. I have Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost on my side.

I don't know how to do this.

I have a crush on a guy.
I'm struggling with this.
I have had one boyfriend in my life. When I was 16. It lasted for the summer and ended dramatically and I went all Marianne in Sense and Sensibility, and acted just like a teenager with a broken heart. I moped, I cried, I wrote horrible poetry. There are whole swaths of my journal I can't read now because it's still rather painful and juvenile. I even wrote down what he wore.

In the intervening years there have been guys, oh so many, and more heartbreak and dates that never called again, of telling a guy I liked him and never hearing from him again. Of me trying to be what they wanted and then finally just being myself, but still being alone.

Flash forward 20 years and I still feel like that 16 year old who wonders what she's doing wrong. I've read books. I've asked friends. I've examined myself and made changes. I've prayed.

Truth: I have no idea how to have a relationship. How to start a relationship.
For most of my life, my knowledge of relationships, about "love," came from written pornography and romantic comedies. Not exactly accurate.
I created entire relationships in my head and then got mad when he didn't do what I thought he should. When he probably had no idea I even liked him. I've gotten to the point where I can recognize Limerence and love and lust and fantasy and see where I am. But I still feel deeply.

I find myself doing this again. Right now.
The last week has been up and down and happy and depressingly morose. I've cried. I've hurt.
And I think, it shouldn't be this hard! Is it me? Am I making more out of a... friendship than is there?
I asked my crush out. And he said yes and then I haven't heard anything from him since. Augh. I like him. I really like him. Apparently, he doesn't have a clue. I think he should react a certain way and when he doesn't, I'm sad because to me it means he doesn't care.

I've talked with friends and roomies and family. I feel good for a bit, but then something happens and I'm plunged into depression. I think he knows and yet he isn't reacting the way I think that he would... ?
My roommate says I have a fear of rejection and I think it's a part of what is going on, but I don't know what to do with that information. How do you tell yourself "Quit feeling this." Or "stop feeling so deeply."

This is exactly why I say I am perfectly happy single. I'm a sex addict and I am scared of relationships. I am scared that I can't do it in the proper way (?) whatever that means. Basically, I feel like I'm still 16. Trying to make sense of boys and my own emotions. Dealing with the fear that I'm overreacting (and no one wants that) and then wondering how to halt those crazy moments. Added into the fear that he will find out about me, my addiction, and turn away. Which is foolish to think, when he doesn't even know much else about me. It's not like I'm going to blurt it out on the first date. If we even get to that point.

I know enough to know that the emotions I'm feeling right now are not just about a boy. My cats have been sick. More changes at work. I'm moving positions again. Yes, I've only been there two months and I've moved twice. Today was hard. It was lonely and new and... difficult.
And I think "I need boy drama like I need a broken leg." I pray and tell Heavenly Father that I am not cool with this. I ask Him what purpose this serves. I tell myself that this too will end in tears. I wonder if the difficulty means I'm doing something faulty. A sign that it's wrong.
The deep, deep fear of being hurt again. And then being hurt anyway.

I am sore afraid. I'm stuck between wanting a... let's just go with date. I want a date. Yet, I'm scared of the outcome. Any outcome. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.

Sigh.

Romans 5:1-4
Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:

By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

And patience, experience; and experience, hope:

I'm working on the glory part. 

All I can do is keep moving forward. Attend group. Study the scriptures. Pray. Turn all this over to Heavenly Father and hope that someday this will make sense. I will see what I learned from this experience.

In the meantime, I'll try not to stalk anyone on Facebook...

Warped Love

I have been working on this post since I started this blog.
I write a bit, delete it, try again, etc.

Then today I woke up ill so what better way to have time to finish the blog?
Since my other plans are a little hard to complete when you get dizzy standing up.

I hope this makes sense.

Basically, I have been on one date since I started recovery. I was one and a half hours late to that date because, well, I freaked out.
What if I did something? What if he tried to kiss me? What if I triggered?
They were all wild and crazy fears, but they were still there.
Big, huge waves of fear.
It went okay. Surprisingly, there was no follow up date. Go figure.

Anyway, I bring this up because I've developed a crush on a nice guy in my ward. This is my second one since recovery and I really don't like it.
My first crush was on a co-worker. It was horrible.

Why? Well, it's complicated. I suddenly realized that I had used fantasies to "create" a fictional relationship. I would create aspects of him that probably didn't exist. I would be further along in the relationship because I was fantasizing about us. I liked him, he must like me. He must feel the same way. Then I'd get angry when he didn't react the way I wanted him to react.
Reading through old journal entries about my last major relationship, I realized that I had done this.
Having this crush on my co-worker brought out a lot of it.
I didn't enjoy the experience.
I'm starting to figure out why. I'm trying to learn how to like a guy and not retreat into fantasy land.

And it's so complicated.
One part of it was my childhood.
I was abused as a child.

For years I didn't realize it.
It wasn't the Hollywood version, where I cowered in fear every night.
My dad wasn't a drug or alcohol addict. He wasn't horrible every single day.
I wasn't beaten and sent to school with bruises. I didn't have to lie about how I got them.
He was the Executive Secretary in our ward.

One day, when I was around 14, I was taking a Home-Ec class.
Our teacher (bless her forever) actually talked about the Cycle of Abuse.
In Mormon Central! (I grew up in a predominantly LDS community where this kind of thing wasn't talked about)
Here it is:

That was my childhood.

Growing up, I learned I wasn't good enough. Because, obviously, if I was good, my daddy wouldn't hurt me.
But my daddy did hurt me.
Therefore, it must be my fault. My child brain reasoned that it had to be my fault.
So I had to be good. I had to please people. If they were happy, then I would be happy. They wouldn't hurt me. I became a people pleaser. And I used my addiction to escape. I created fantasies about being strong. I created this ideal man who would never hurt me. The perfect man.
I told myself that if I could just have a boyfriend then I would be fine. When I did have a boyfriend (I have had only one), the addiction went away. So, I reasoned, I needed that love and support from a guy. I couldn't do it on my own. And because I was really good at fantasies, well, that bled into my
relationship with guys.
I created a fantasy man in every guy I liked.
A fantasy relationship. Etc.

The first step to realizing this was at university, when I began seeing a counselor about issues regarding my dad. At the time, I was obsessed with this guy. I would fantasize about him, have conversations with him, think about him all the time. If Facebook had been around then I definitely would have stalked him. Anyway, I worried it meant I was crazy. So she gave me this book on limerence and love.
Limerence is infatuation. It's more about you and less about object of your infatuation. You fantasize about your crush seeing you, watching you, talking to you. It's about what you have to do to make them fall in love with you. Sound familiar?

Limerence can grow into love. You have to work at overcoming limerence and allowing love to develop. To be more concerned about the person, instead of you.
The book really helped me see that I was normal. We all do this. The point of the book was overcoming limerence and allowing it to become love. But with my addiction, I let it go too far.

I was chin deep in my addiction at that point.
So I kept the fantasies.
Fueled by what I was reading.

Recently, I realized that abuse is warped love. But my dad wasn't the only contributor.
Written porn novels also present abusive relationships as normal and romantic.
Most "romance" books I read had the hero treat the girl horribly. Play with her emotions, scare her, stalk her, hurt her physically or emotionally, and then explain it all away by saying he loved her at the end. Oh, it was okay now.

Written porn is about the woman. How she is seen by the man. It's complete limerence, with pornography in there for added damage.
I never realized how this reading warped my perceptions. It warped my sense of healthy relationships and interactions.
I'm slowly replacing those issues with truth.

To honest, I am so happily single. For years I wanted to be married. I thought I could only be happy being married. I finally made peace with myself and who I am. I am in a good place.

Truthfully, I am scared to be married. Scared to have to confess my addiction to my significant other. Scared of relapses and triggers.

Then I remind myself that I don't need to freak out about something that isn't even a possibility yet.

We'll take it when it comes, me and God together.

So I'm watching what I read. I try to recognize unhealthy relationships in tv and movies and books.

I'm turning my triggers and temptations over to Heavenly Father.
Having faith He can heal what I cannot.
That I can be in a healthy dating/marital relationship one day.
Let's hope.