Sunday, February 7, 2016

The bath is safe, I'll hide here forever

The water is warm. When I stick my face all the way in and blow bubbles, it sounds like a sweet lullaby that can calm any fears, quiet any headaches, relax any sore muscles. I'm vulnerable, I'm naked afer all. But im still somehow safe from the edge of life. The details fall to the background and my mind becomes full of things it likes, things it gets full of when its safe. Like redecorating my bedroom, or creating the cutest valentine decorations. Or thinking about the beauty of my children, or of nature, or of our wonderful world.

So naturally I made a heart wall 20 miles long out of water. (My energy healer told me so). And im distant, from everyone, and everything. It's a "safe distance". But its lonely, I dont like feeling distant.

Cant I be safe, in my little watery cocoon, but still have connection at the same time?

No, I don't believe so. The one person I'm the most afraid of is the one person I want so badly to be on the inside with me.

 If he gets in, then I have no more need for the wall.


Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Conversations with my little girl within

When I first started on this journey, it was like any little glimpse at my little girl within was so hard and shocking. Shocking to learn how I really felt about things. I would have a short glimpse and then close the door again for another month until I was in therapy again and she would bring in the inner child again. It was had to find her words, hard to find her feelings, hard to really know what she was saying. I would cry every single time.

There was a work in trust. After all I had never listened to her before, ever. I never just let myself FEEL anything without shaming myself for feeling. Shaming myself for feeling, meant specifically shaming her.

My step four inventory was the beginning of really making amends with her. I've done a couple step 4's but the format for this last one came through divine inspiration. I began listing anything in my life that I felt pain about. Any little thing. Then I listed all the feelings that came with the experiences. And the last column was to identify what unhealthy behaviors came from what events. It was brutally hard work. I would work it for about 30 mins, then need about an hour of self care in order to function in my day. But I needed it so badly. I sat with myself day after day and empathized. No one ever empathized in my childhood. There werent many people available to guide me and hold me and love me through my extremely painful experiences. I was nearly on my own as a child, going through things that would surely knock an adult down. And so I sat with myself. I honored the unhealthy behaviors even, acknowledging how they served me for a time, when I had no other tools.

It seemed to me that I was only about midway through when the prompting came that I was finished. I was so surprised, being the recovering perfectionist that I am. But it makes sense to me now, because right after I finished, I began seeing Elizabeth, my therapist, who guided me to this inner-child work.
Now, my whole approach at life has shifted. I hear her, my inner child, a lot more often. Throughout the day, I put my hand on my heart and empathize with her fears and concerns. I encourage her and validate her and send lots of love to her.
When im doing this, its easy to take care of myself. It's easy to eat, and drink water, and exercize, and journal when needed, and play when needed. She has been the key to my self care. And now she is becoming the key to my ability to access the love that is so abundantly available to me all around.  Because I have this relationship with her (with myself) the voices of shame and E.D. and perfectionism are much smaller, ALMOST inconsequential. When I started journaling, I had three columns. One for little girl, one for wise woman, and one for the negative voices. The negative voices just about kept she and I apart, kept ME away from MYSELF. And now, when I journal, I nearly never need three columns. Just the two, a conversation between she and I,

between my heart and my head,

 between my spirit self and my human self,
between my playful self and my responsible self...
Usually that is all that I need.

So I empathize, I show compassion, we become one, and we can then take the Savior's hand and conquor anything, face anything this life throws our way.

I'm slightly nuts sounding, im sure. Refering to myself as a "we" and all that. But I am okay with it. In okay with going to whatever quirky extreme that I need to in order to access that deep reservoir of peace and contentment, and by so doing, breaking chains of my ancestry. I link arms with my inner child, and then link arms with all my ancestors in a union of eternity and they cheer us on as we do the work of salvation for the whole lineage.

I am so truly grateful to my Heavenly Father for guiding and leading me by the hand through this recovery journey.  Maybe one day I will be able to envision H by my side in this big chain of eternity. Holding not just my hand, by my little girl-within's hand too.  I think we're getting there.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

seeing into my heart

I have actually never had this happen before. I have  started and stopped this post 4 times!!! I dont know how to adequately portray just what I am feeling this Christmas.

There was this family, MY family.    Founded upon right principles, principles full of light and goodness, that sounded really really good.  But years of confusion and decay came upon this family.  From the outside looking in, the family looked whole, and complete. But from the inside, cold hard black hearts were slowly overtaking all the light.  Finally the darkness and decay beame all consuming and it became apparent that this family was falling apart.  Appearances could no longer be kept up.  

A total surrender was all that was left.  A total surrender was the last dwindling thread of hope.  Darkness continued to prevail, for years, as this family began receiving new hearts.  Little flickers of light would appear, only to be squandered by the cold damp darkness of resentments, lies and confusion.  Recovery efforts felt all consuming, yet futile.  Days of sobriety became months of sobriety which became only hours of sobriety.  Discouragement and hopelessness reigned.  The darkness, as dreadful as it was, became familiar and hard to image anything else.
Over time, the family learned how to cling to those little flickers of light that frequently appeared. How to preserve them, how to fight for them.  Every section of their blackened hearts, crusted over with pride, hatred and FEAR, insane amounts of fear, had to be blasted by the light.  The light came both as a refreshing breath of hope, and a painful ripping away of identity and security. 

This family rested upon shoulders.  It was lifted up by Bishops, stake presidents, temple presidents, missionaries, relief society presidents, family, friends, recovery friends, young women babysitters, visiting teachers, home teachers (long beautiful painstaking hours with home teachers), sponsors, the bishop's storehouse, beautiful ward family members giving service anonymously.  All these shoulders lending themselves in the service of the Savior's.  How much gratitude I feel as I look back at the many many people who shouldered MY FAMILY over these last years.  

This family learned to cling to the light.  And one day, the light became more overpowering than the darkness.  It happened subtly, so subtly that I almost didnt notice it.  I almost didnt realize that fear isnt constantly baring down on my chest anymore.  I almost didnt realize that the children arent waking up a million times every night just to make sure that daddy is still in bed.  I almost didnt realize that tangible feeling of the Spirit in our home, for the first time.  Or the shift in the focus of our family, from healing and pain to service, and nurturing the children.  That love has replaced pride.  That truth, that precious "rarest gem", has replaced the constant deciet of "pretending perfect".  That humility and brokenness feel  more comfortable.  That vulnerability and authenticity have given my heart room to love, especially room to love myself.  Isolation is replaced with connection.   

We surrendered, and continued to surrender.  We clung to the light, and continued to cling.  And Christ, just as he promised, transformed our family.  

After all this time, after all this struggle, we are here in this place, and I am full of gratitude.  

I am not saying we have "arrived". I am not saying we are "recovered".  Things that I wished for throughout this whole process but have realized those dont exist.  We can never return to that place of "pretending perfect" again. And I don't want that anymore.

But I do feel that this family has been liberated.  I feel the amazing power of the atonement in our lives.  And I feel so much gratitude for that sweet little baby, who came to earth 2000 years ago to liberate my family today.  

I see a family, still being carried by the Savior, and not fighting it anymore.  I feel ready to do, and become, whatever He has destined for us.  

This is my Christmas Spirit.  These are the tears that I have shed this month when pondering the Savior.  This is the joy I feel as I give and receive love in my family.  For me, this is what Christmas is all about.  

Merry Christmas  

Monday, November 30, 2015

always wishing i could disappear, gratitude for my space

ever since I was very young, about 12, I wanted to disappear.  Suicide was a constant contemplation.  When things get hard in my life, even now, suicidal thoughts appear as an immediate default. I am sure that is because this has been my default for over 15 years now.  I have different tools now, than I did then.  I know that my suicidal thought pattern is a warning signal to me that I need to change something in my life, I need to stand up for myself, or protect myself, or nourish myself.

But back then, it was real, it was scary, it was so deeply painful, and it was a secret.
I never told a soul, because the one time I did, I was made to believe that I was bad, and wrong, and inherently flawed. I felt like I was a mistake. That day, when my uncle was in my face shaming me for being depressed, my energy shifted.  I think in that moment, he transferred all of his shame to me.  He demanded total self control, total supremacy of feelings, and really total control of all.  He holds himself to this high, impossible and unhealthy standard, and I am certain it comes with loads of shame. It is not possible. And so that day, I received his outlook on life, in every fiber of my being.

This realization has hit me really hard.  I actually felt like I was a mistake.  Any time I showed up, anywhere, doing ANYTHING, I felt shame.  I felt shame for the way I walked, talked, dressed.  I felt shame for the way my voice sounded, for my thoughts and feelings, and for my whole life.  My brother's favorite tease was to tell me I had a big nose.  I actually dont have a nose that would strike anyone as disproportionate, but I think he tried it once, and liked the shame that he saw wash over me.  So he said it again and again and again. It was like tapping into a deep reservoir always there, waiting to remind me that I was a failure and a mistake.

It is no wonder that I developed an eating disorder.  Two guiding principles governed my secrets: control everything and disappear.

I was meditating last week to a guided meditation by a guy who really is no good at doing meditations.  But as I sat there, he said one thing that completely illuminated my soul to a new concept that had never occurred to me. He said, "give gratitude for the space that you occupy".  And then, as it so often does during meditation, a flood of inspiration came to me.
Before we were born, we were spirits.  We had no matter, we took up no physical space here on this earth.  But then, our great time arrived.  Our opportunity to come to earth.  We came into a tiny body, but it was ours, it is our own physical space.  It changes throughout life, but no matter what, it is ours.  And now, I sit here today, occupying my space.  Like a silhouette, its my beautiful sacred space that I occupy, and only me.  It's mine and only mine, and no matter what I do, I WILL ALWAYS OCCUPY SPACE on this earth, forever more.  No matter how much my shame tells me I want to disappear, or hide, I cant.  Even after I die, and my bones either become ashes or disintegrate, they will always be matter, and they will always take up some space here on this earth.  And one day, this blessed body that I have spent my whole life cursing, will be my constant companion, for ALL ETERNITY!  It is a gift! It is such a sacred gift.  God gave us a space, and it is only OURS, no one elses. 

It is my sacred space.

And this, then begs the question:

How do I show up in my space?
Today, I show up with gratitude, wonder and awe at this beautiful life. I show up with an open heart to give and receive love. And with courage, to offer all that I have in the service of my fellow beings and my Maker.

Have you ever given thanks to God for the sacred space that you occupy?

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Nightmares give some answers

I started an eating disorder, body awareness yoga and group therapy/community building 6 week program.  The first week was just dandy and all full of warm fuzzies and self compassion and the validation of meeting other women, face to face, with eating disorders... who are still just trying to figure it out.

The second week we had to do a survey that was brutal.  I wanted to lie and give perfect answers. I felt shame for not giving perfect answers, because my honest answers were ugly.  And ugly was not allowed when I was a tween and teen.  Weakness was not allowed.  Only control and perfection and supremacy of self was allowed, So of course I wanted to lie.  And of course I felt shame about putting the TRUTH about how I have really felt about my body and what i have REALLY done to myself through restriction of food.  IT was brutal, but what came as an even greater surprise was that shame stuck around for the next 3 weeks.  Day in, day out, shame everywhere and I couldn't figure it out.  Along with the shame, came nightmares.

Nightmares all revolving shame.  Shame because I had comitted adultery, shame because I had masturbated in public, shame because my husband had committed adultery and I wasn't "good enough" for him, shame because I was trying to murder my mom....

Im not kidding when I said nightmares.  These were like the worst of the worst. Waking up every night sweating, tossing and turning, and just generally MISERABLE!!! and FULL OF SHAME!!! it takes a while to recover from nightmares like that.

But then my counselor, bless her soul, suggested to my mind that maybe my inner child was trying to tell me something.  Maybe she was showing me the very roots of where my eating disorder was born.  And the feelings that came with it.  She told me to WRITE DOWN MY FEELINGS AND the THEMES of the dreams.  Then evaluate where those appeared during that time frame in my childhood.

I did always feel sinful, dirty, bad, full of shame.  Wrong, awkward, unloved and like I didn't belong.  Weird, isolated, too thin, too tall, too goofy.  Not worth it, not worth anything, not even worth life itself.

Suicide became a daily, hourly contemplation.  Everything sucked, I had to just end it all.

This was the day my eating disorder was born.

I got into a fight with my guardians, I had been living there about a year.  I NEEDED them in these crucial hours of my life.  In my desperation, I cried out "If I am so bad, just bring me a knife and I will kill myself."  My uncle began poking me in the chest hard with the most shaming message.  I have no idea what he actually said, but what I heard with every fiber of my being was a reiteration of all that I had feared was true.  "You are bad, you are wrong, you are weak and you need to shut that down.  Shut that off. You are an idiot for even considering such a thing.  You are some sort of freak of nature.  Never show weakness of any kind! I can't believe you.  What is wrong with you?"

With each poke I felt smaller, and smaller and smaller.

I didn't know how to shut that down, shut that off, be perfect, be in total control of my emotions and always free of weakness and imperfections.  So I began where I was.  

But I was certain I was so bad.  I was certain that I really was some sort of freak of nature and now he confirmed it to me.  They sent me to a therapist.  

What do you think I did?

I lied.  

Of course I lied.  The last time I shared my feelings it was clearly NOT OKAY, so I lied.  

I never talked about suicide. I dodged every question.  I put on my perfect face and I fooled that man.  No more vulnerability for me! After about 3 sessions, he told my guardians that I was all better, they had nothing to worry about.  I thought, "You idiot. You have no clue what is going on inside me."

I was a smart girl and I protected myself, and it worked.  

Feelings of suicide stayed with me for much, much longer after that.  I was 12 or 13 when all that happened.  I can remember driving my own car (so at least 16) and thinking, "If I just ran this car off the road right now going this speed, just one jerk of the wheele and that is all it would take. And all this would be over."  

No ONE NO ONE not ANYONE, not even my very best friend knew I struggled with these feelings.  Likewise, no one knew about my eating disorder. It was my secret, and it was double bolted, chained, and suffocated with shame.  I was so good at faking it, I even convinced myself that I was "all better."

Heavy crazy Emotions from an insane amount of pressure for a 9 year old who was in a really hard life, begat PSAS.

PSAS begat shame. 

Shame and lack of safety begat secrets and hiding.

Secrets and hiding begat isolation.

Isolation, my mom losing custody of me, and my dad dieing at age 11 begat a desire for suicide.  

Suicidal thoughts  and abandonment begat lots of pain.

Lots of pain begat lashing out.

Lashing out begat more shame.  

More shame begat perfectionism and control. 

Perfectionism and control begat my eating disorder and an addiction to performance.

Performance begat the need to be busy and results-based-worthiness.  

And round and round we went.  This is so incredibly eye opening! And sad.  Let us all take a moment of silence for our inner child, who has always just tried to do her best.  

Monday, October 19, 2015

an intuition gift (written early sept, published now)

I was hanging from a rock wall, talking outloud, mostly to myself. Which is something I do fairly often, especially when trying new rock climbing.  So there I am, 30 or so feet up the wall and the woman next to me says, "you look so familiar.."
Turns out, she was my first real yoga teacher, that I had about 5 years ago at the university.  I had signed up out of total desperation, I had just had my first baby and I was completely drowning in postpartum depression.  I found peace at yoga but more than that, I found a sense of deepness there. Like sometimes I couldn't keep my "perfect" persona while I was there, doing poses and just would start sobbing.  And that intrigued me.  How thrilled I was to tell her that because of that class, and because of her, I was now a yoga teacher.  But back to the point of the story.

We got down off the wall and she said, "This is really insane because I was just thinking about you a few days ago."She went on to remind me that there was a guy in class who always dressed in very little clothing, and one day I spoke to her about how his clothing and something about him made me feel uncomfortable.  She asked me if I remembered that, honestly I did not. But her retelling of the story seemed to jog my memory a little bit, I wasn't totally sure if I remembered or not.  She couldn't believe it, she kept asking, "you dont remember that!?" "Well, maybe, kind of?"
"Well," she said, "last week it was in the news paper.  He was arrested for soliciting a child. He is a sex offender. And you knew it. You picked up on it and I didn't."

Of course you know what i am thinking. Surely you know what I am thinking. "Really? Great well that was USELESS because I had a sex addict right under my nose at the time that I never picked up on..."

I tried to divert the attention. I said, "you know, people like that, there are NO signs!" She responded with, "I am a trauma therapist at a VA hospital, I can pick up on it with my clients. But with my yoga students it is different. I just want to love all of them. But you knew."

Again I tried to divert the energy, I said, "well I am Mormon, did you ever know that? So maybe I just dont remeber because I have pretty strict ideals about modesty and dress code.." She responded with, "I didnt remeber that about you. But I was raised Mormon, so I know all about that but I still didnt pick up on it like you did."

With that, we moved on to other things... like rock climbing!

Later I asked my husband if he heard what she told me.  He hadnt, but he saw us talking.  I related the story to him and told him I thought it was dumb, but  I didn't say why (I am at a place where I don't like to constantly throw his addiction in his face)... but he was astonished.

He said, "Don't you realize what a gift this was?! She told you those things so that you would have a witness from Heavenly Father, that you do have an intuition about poeple and that your intuition is usually RIGHT. It's a message from God to tell you to trust your intuition!"

Wow babe, I definitely hadn't thought about it like that...

So I am writing this blog post tonight to thank my Heavenly Father for sending me a message tonight, from my first yoga teacher, who teaches to hundreds of students every year but happened to remember me from over 5 years ago and share this information with me.  It was pretty fantastic.

Saturday, October 17, 2015

I know... It's been FOREVER

I haven't written in months.  It's one of those things where things go well, and you are feeling good and strong and capable and full of hope and trust and gratitude in the Lord... So ALL you CAN DO in those times is just jump in, feet first, free falling at times, working hard at times, sweating at times, passionately loving at times... and just go for it.
So that is what I have done the last 6 months.  A free-fall.

And then, it sucks because when I realize I am not falling as quickly, and this really isn't AS scary, and maybe I really CAN trust my husband... I cling to him.  I cling tight and I express gratitude often and I love wholly and recklessly.  And we are happy. And we are together.

And then he starts struggling.

But I am still clinging...

You know, triggers, they happen all the time. Some are bigger, some are smaller.  I deal. I've got tools. I work through most of them rather quickly. I have a great support system and someone is always just a phone conversation away.  Surrender is always just right around the corner for me to access, find acceptance and embrace my messy life.

But then there are those OTHER triggers... the ones associate with your intuition.  The ones where you say to yourself, "yes... this stings because of the past. BUT there is also a warning in this one that maybe I better listen to..."

Well its hard to tell the difference.  In the beginning I was certain that ALL my triggers were telling me to get the hell away, every single time!!!! So how can you tell the difference?!

Well, I just give my husband the benefit of the doubt.  Because that is where we are right now. So I give him the benefit of the doubt, and hope for a better day the next day, or a better week the next week.....

But then the triggers just keep coming, and attached is that little voice of intuition each time "WARNING WARNING" it says.  Basically my pattern (heavens knows I am not saying this is the RIGHT way, I am just saying this is where I am right now!) is that I will keep looking for reasons why my little warning sign MUST be wrong, until there is JUST NO AVOIDING THE THING!!! It's going off DAY and NIGHT and now its associated with anger and frustration and I am lashing out and crying and trying to save and all the mess!!!! I've been there recently. Recently like meaning TODAY.

I am clinging so tight to him that I just can not BARE to watch him fall and drag us all through hell again...I've lost all of my blissful eternal perspective and I just want HIM and I want him HEALTHY and I want our FAMILY and I CERTAINLY want growth but that growth can come through nice fluffy spirit-filled books and connecting conversations... not through more trials with this addiction!! (OKAY!?)  Ya, I need to surrender. I need to let go.  But I am not going to look the other way.

See my OLD pattern was surrender, let go, and stuff it down until you can't see it anymore and then pretend your life is FANTASTIC!

I can't and don't live like that anymore.  I know when things are off and I cannot and WILL NOT deny the little voice within.  The voice is saying WARNING, the Holy Ghost is saying SURRENDER, and my inner-child is BEGGING for protection and boundaries.  So, back to the healthy-recovery-way-of-life that I lost my grip on in the fun of the free-fall.
Communicating mindfully and speaking about only myself and how "I feel." (4 Part "I feel" statements)
 Praying hard when I can't control the chaos. Praying for him AND praying for ME.(Surrendering)
Setting boundaries to keep myself from getting so sucked in. (Boundaries and self-care)
Keeping myself in a place where I can feel the Spirit, hearken to the Voice of the Lord, and be present for my life, for my kids, for my yoga classes, for my husband on his good moments. (work my own recovery)

Doesn't that seem simple? Those main basic themes, communication, surrender, boundaries, self-care, working my own recovery.

I have testimonies of each one of them, which have each come at different times to me and have come with a lot of EFFORT over TIME.  And why do I do them? To make sure my husband has the best odds of staying sober and not blaming his addiction on me?? NOOOO... although that was my motive years ago and CERTAINLY still crosses my mind.


I do it because it keeps me free. It keeps my spirit soaring. It keeps me in peace and contentment. It keeps me open, able to give and receive love, and serve, and appreciate this beautiful life.
As much as I HATE the fact that this is my life, that addiction is always either present or looming, that dysfunction is the name of the game, that I will probably be going through this in 15, 30, maybe even 50 years from now if I continue to fight for and stay in this marriage.... as much as all that sucks... I sure am grateful for recovery and all the tools I have acquired along the way. I sure am grateful for the self-respect I have gained, and for the gratitude, and hope for abundance in my life.  I am just much happier with these tools than I ever was prior to learning about this horrendous addiction.  I never really thought that could happen. And I definitely never thought it would be possible at a time when there is still a great possibility of my husband relapsing again.  But alas, life actually does extend beyond my husband and his porn addiction.

Thank goodness for that.

Friday, July 31, 2015


Lately I have seen the Lord's hand in my life so abundantly that I felt that I absolutely must share.
The very course of our family has shifted.  We are on a very direct path and now that I am on the path, I know what it feels like... though before we were on the path, I didn't know we weren't on it.

That probably sounds confusing. Have you ever been going along in life and think that you are following the Prophet in all ways and then all of a sudden right there in front of your face is the very blunt fact that you HAVE NOT! This is not the first time this has happened to me, either.  Everytime, the news is very sobering and hard to take in.  It requires that I put aside all that was currently on my priority list and put new things on my priority list. It requires change.  And Change is not really something we like to do, for some strange reason.... (considering everything is constantly changing and evolving all around us all the time....)

But every time I have ever made this major life switch, to align my life with the teachings of the Prophets, I have always been better off for it.  As a matter of fact, my entire life is completely and overwhelmingly NOT MY OWN, ever since the beautiful day I made the decision to be baptized.  From that day forward, nothing in my life has gone according to plan, AT ALL, it is not even my life!!!  It's now His life. But I often try to take it back... like at least a few times a day.... ha!

Now, for the miracles:
My husband, after dragging his feet and literally doing everything in his power to NOT get a teaching job, by turning every last application in late and making every necessary phone call late and just months and months of this process that he literally almost cursed himself to NOT be rewarded for his hard work.... got a job as a teacher, at his favorite highschool, that happens to be the closest to our home, that happens to be the one he graduated from and played football at.  It all was literally handed to him the moment that he finished doing his part.  It was like God knew the WHOLE TIME THAT HE WOULD TAKE A RECORD TURTLE PACE AND JUST ORCHESTRATED THE WHOLE THING!!!! I am absolutely astounded.  And Humbled.... because I don't even want to tell you how many anxiety attacks and break downs and fights and prayers of desperation I went through as I watched him... Let me just give you a little idea of just how long this took.... because it wasn't JUST the application process that he dragged his feet through...
We graduated college May 2011 and had our second child shortly thereafter.
Summer 2012 He decided he wanted to go back to school to become a teacher. (and told me he was addicted to porn)
Spring of 2013 He did his student teaching and promptly told me that he didnt want to be a teacher. We had just loaned thousands of dollars from his Grandpa for him to do this schooling, which his Grandpa immediately forgave the debt. ( During this time he was also kicked off for the first time, for not keeping in touch with his sponsor and keeping up on his work.)
Summer 2013 our 3rd child was born and I kicked my husband out of the house for half a year.
Spring 2014  His Grandma bought a house to rent to us and we moved in for "a fresh start."
Fall of 2014 he decided that he needed to become a teacher, that it was the best decision for the family.  The Bishop was so supportive and paid for the tests and everything!
Early Spring 2015 he relapsed again and was out of the house for a month and went on church discipline.
Summer 2015 He actually has the teaching job, and is on the tail end of the church discipline.

Miracles do happen people.  Anyone who can look at our life and see what has happened, knows that this is a miracle.

But there is more!!!
We have come to the same page about something. There is finally something in our family that we are working on together and its beautiful! And I feel like it is a hand-tailored recovery program just for us.  And that recovery program is called, preparing for the Second Coming.  We are working on 72 hour kits and emergency preparedness and food storage and gardening and  spiritual preparedness and all of it, with urgency. We each received convictions about the importance of this work at different times but have come together and are doing all of it.... and the most beautiful side effect has been how it is blessing our marriage and our family, as a unit.  And how it is spiritually training each of us individually as well.

Last week a friend gave me, for free, like 300 mason jars.  We have very little money (did I mention how excited we are that my husband just got a job as a TEACHER! lol) so trying to do a year supply food storage with urgency takes a lot of patience and time and creativity... and miracles.  I'm not just hoping for them, I am completely dependent on them.  I have had a desire to learn how to butcher chickens, and I think that is a really important skill to have in the event that we don't have the convenience of a grocery store.  I was asking ward memebers about canning chicken stock and chicken and asking if anyone had a pressure canner I could borrow. And a friend out of no where says, "yes, you can borrow my canner and I also have about 15 chickens I was about to put on craigslist for free, do you want them?" So she and her husband taught us how to butcher chickens and I have been canning broth and chickens every day since Sunday.


There have been so many lessons in the miracles.  I learned so much and felt like my heart grew a few sizes larger the day we butchered chickens.  My heart had never even contemplated chickens.... but seriously, when you are there, scrubbing and prepping their meat, still warm with life, it gives you a lot to think about.  I thought about Adam, when God made him Lord over the whole earth and gave him dominion over all the living creatures on the face thereof.  I thought about Visions of Glory where he sees with spiritual eyes that ALL things praise Heavenly Father CONSTANTLY and give profuse thanks when they are able to be of service to God's children here on the earth.  I thought of how many animals I have eaten without ever giving it a second thought, that those were living beings that God gave us to be used in prudence and thanksgiving.  I thought of the Word of Wisdom and how we have improvements to make when it comes to eating meat sparingly.  I believe that miracles come with responsibility. The further light you receive, the greater the accountability for what you do WITH the light.

I gained other lessons from these miracles as well.  That there are GOOD people here on the earth who love us and want us to succeed.  And God uses other people to bless us. There are so many who helped my husband on this journey to becoming a teacher.  So many.  I am so truly grateful. When this addiction has made me feel like there must be no trustworthy people anywhere, I can know for sure, that is wrong!

I learned that when we are open to receive, and when we do our part, God is more than willing to pour out a blessing on our head, more than we can receive.  I still have 6 chickens in the fridge in the garage. I am going as FAST AS I CAN!!! Heavenly Father has wanted to bless our family, in the last three years I have cried thousands upon thousands of tears about our lack of growth, our setbacks, my husbands addiction, our poverty, but God could not reward my husband for doing only half of what was required. He had to do it all, he had to take the classes, take the tests, do the time, get the liscences and certificates, go through the applications and hirings, and probably MOST importantly, get some sobriety and recovery and humility under his belt....

God wants to bless us. He wants us to be happy. He knew the plan all along.  I have seen firsthand how shaky I become when put under fire.  I feel like all that we have been through has been in preparation for what is to come.  The trial of faith, the shaking of our very foundation from every angle, all of it has given us the tools to face future trials with greater faith, greater humility, and a greater desire to do His will.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Nothing is what I thought it would be and I am grieving

If it's happening in my life, then it must be God's will.

No desire for control.
Seeking the higher path.

How long can I employ these tools while constantly being affected by the choices of a loved one?

At what point does "surrendering to God's will," become foolish, blind victimization of self?

It feels like that.

It feels like it is time for me to take action. To take life into my own hands. To make myself and my family successful.

I really feel like *I* am successful. Most days of my life. I have worked hard on my limiting beliefs and my addictions and my shame and my heart and my open-mindedness. I "show-up," like really "show-up" for my children for a good part of MOST days with love and compassion and nurturing. Of course I am not enlighterned or perfect, there are always new patterns and habits arising that I acknowledge and work on. But as a family, I am so unhappy with where we are.

I have had so many expectations.  Expectations that I never really knew were there.
-No one in my family-of-origin was ever educated. They all worked super hard for their living. It was an important goal of mine to become an educated individual, and use my education to contribute to society.
- No one in my family has ever traveled. They all stayed inside a little prescribed box of life and wouldn't stray from it even though it didn't work very well for them. It has always been an inner need for me to immerse myself in people of other cultures and ways of life. It has always been an inner need to be connected with people of all walks of life.
- My family always relied on the support of their family members. My dad was never self reliant, so when I moved in with my aunt and uncle at age 12 and paid my rent and living expenses from then on, I formed some pretty strong feelings about living self-reliant.
- My family always impressed in me a great importance of serving others. I read Mother Teresa books when I was in Second Grade and from there decided I was going to be HER! That desire turned into a realistic goal to become a Doctor and serve people by helping their health. Serving people has always been at the core of my heart... even when I was a tiny girl.
- I didn't want to have kids. But if I DID have kids, they would have the best of everything.  By that, I mean; the most loving home, a life rich in service, a life full of unique lessons from other cultures, a family that takes life by the bulls horns and thrives, a family that blesses everyone they come in contact with, a family that isn't afraid to go against the norms of society, a family that has a life so full and rich that we don't need so many empty "things" because we have rich experiences and rich relationships.  A family completely devoted to Jesus Christ.
- If I would have kids, then of course I would help take care of other people's kids and love them like my own. Because that was done for me, and I know what it's like to not have YOUR parents.

When my, then, soon-to-be husband sat me down and showed me all the words of the prophets, teaching that families should have children and SPECIFICALLY that women should give their primary attention to their children in the home if at all possible, I felt the Spirit. I knew it was true. But how difficult this has been for me, and how difficult it has been for my husband.  When he showed me that he fully intended and hoped to support me as a stay-at-home mom, I transferred all these life's dreams and goals onto him.
I took all the things that, to me, made a fulfilling life, and expected that he would do them.
At the time, he didn't even know what he wanted to do with his degree. In fact, after we got married, he switched his degree, to mine. But I had every drop of myself invested in the fact that he would carry us through. I gave over everything, all the things I had previously worked towards. I started from scratch. I didn't do it FOR him, I did it FOR God, but I definitely did it BECAUSE of him. Without him, I had no other options but to continue on my own chosen path. He came along and gave me the option to live a higher law.  And I accepted wholeheartedly, even though it was so hard. Do mormon girls go through this? Or is all of this because I am a convert? Maybe it is because I had such high expectations of MYSELF for my own life, to be DIFFERENT than my family of origin, to RISE ABOVE the suffering, to TRIUMPH, to be PURE, to just LIVE GREATLY. Maybe if I had never married him, I would instead be cursing myself, because maybe my expectations were never actually realistic to begin with.  
I digress...

What I understood:

-He said he wanted 9 kids. Which to me translated into a high paying job to support those 9 children.
-He was in an engineering program and proved to me that he was really capable and smart.
-He served a mission in Bolivia so therefore he was totally into serving the world and taking risks and doing exotic things. ( That is what a convert would thing... not realizing that actually almost everyone just goes on a mission because it is expected and may or may not have their heart into it at all.)
-We talked about things like having an orphanage together, traveling the world with our own kids, living off the land and going against popular culture in things like food, entitlement, having 'things', devotion to the Lord, service, etc.
-The only thing we didn't see eye to eye on was the fact that he wanted the biggest house and I wanted a small house with a beautiful yard.
- We also always thought it would be great to do EVERYTHING together. Raising the kids equally, I would help him in any of his ventures (he will be a dentist, then I will be the book-keeper or the dental assistant. He will own a business, then I will be the secretary. Etc. Etc.). This way he could be home more than most dad's, and actually be a part of the kids' lives.

All these things set me up for the expectation that all my dreams would come true.  Plus he went along with them most of our marriage.

Now we have 3 kids and nothing is what I thought it would be.
-We live in a modular home on a huge rock that his grandma bought just to rent to us. Good bye self-reliance. Goodbye beautiful yard. Goodbye owning our own home and working our way into a home like every other middle-income american.
-He works MOST of the year,12 hours a day, at dead end jobs. Goodbye to using education to make a difference in society, goodbye to raising our kids together, goodbye life of service as a family. Goodbye to having a dad home... any of the time.
-He was given a business with a very specific location that he is obligated to keep running (bc it was given to him) but he refuses to take any risks to try to get it to expand. Goodbye living in other countries. Goodbye "taking life by the bulls horns".
-He has an addiction that makes our lives very unstable.  So, last month when we went to a foster parent informational meeting, we basically came face to face with the fact that we are now an unfit family to take children into our home. Goodbye orphanage. Goodbye providing a stable home-life to children who need parents.  Goodbye to the beautiful family I envision giving my children.
- We have only enough money to meet our basic needs but what's more than that, we don't have him.  We don't have time. We don't do service as a family. We don't really teach our kids together. We are living like every other American. Our kids have attitudes of entitlement and live in little boxes, with no exposure to other ways of life or other walks of life. We spend most of our days filling up the emptiness with movies and novelties and passing time at kid amusements around town.  Our lives are empty and it is not at all what I ever wanted.

I haven't completely said goodbye to all of my dreams. Because I still have me, myself and I.  So I travel a tiny bit, without my family. I did this yoga training and get to serve people that way (and everything I am learning feels like being submerged  in a completely new culture, without having to leave my own city).  I try to show my kids different ways of thinking about things. I try to teach them to love and serve in a deeper way.  I am rigorous about self-study and spiritual work with the Lord. I am constantly going through some sort of changing process with the Lord.

In the end, I do all that I can. And then all the expectations for my family, go to the wash. 
I can't. I just can't make it what I want it to be without the contribution of the man I thought I married.  And it feels like part of me has died.  I feel such a grief and deep sense of loss.

I used to say that I thought my husband might be the next Prophet. Not for fame. Not for the title of President of the Church. Just for having a good heart and serving the Lord.

Nothing is what I thought it would be.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

motivation doesn't come first

I've been in the lowest of low pits. Lowest pit since I started my yoga training. It's really not as intense as it has been in the past, but it is still low. Dang low.  And in this low slump, I gave up a bit. I have just felt tired of being the one doing all the hard work.

So I stopped.

I stopped meditating on my own. I stopped reading scriptures. I stopped putting my hand on my heart and listening to the little girl within me, I stopped eating, I stopped drinking all the water that I was doing so good with, I stopped checking in with my sponsor, I stopped doing my daily gratitude check in. I literally just stopped everything and experienced my kids. They are fun MOST of the time, so we would just create more and more fun.  And every week or so it would all pile up and I would have to take a day off. Two weeks ago, that day-off happened to fall right on Sunday.  I felt no shame, I just took the day off for crying and self-care and didnt go to church or do anything that I didnt want to do.

But the red flag appeared when the following Friday I was already looking forward to another "self-care Sunday". Wait a minute!!! This was supposed to be a ONE TIME THING! Church is important to me and I have worked hard to get back to a good place in my heart to be able to receive from Heavenly Father while I am there. I DO NOT want to give all that up.

So, I did some self-evaluation and realized that this way of life was not sustainable.  I need to come back to being present, come back to feeling my emotions, and most of all, come back to my connection with myself and my Heavenly Father.  Okay I realized that, but then still, nothing happened. Nothing changed. I just kept running with my sweet children, to the splash park, to the water park, to the mall, to the other mall, to the sports store, to the indoor jungle gym, to the outdoor jungle gym, to this park, to that park.... and in between I will go to yoga and teach yoga, because those are fun and still feed my soul... and if anything, they were completely keeping me afloat.

So last Sunday I just let it all out. I went to church. I cried to my Bishop about my hard lot in life. About how I am tired of being the chain breaker.  I cried at my recovery meeting, about the same things.  I cried to my husband and cried before and after and during church. It was a feeling day. And it was so beautiful to just BE where I was and just embrace the mess for what it is.

Come Monday, nothing happened... I still felt exhausted in morning time, didn't get up early, didnt have a sacred hour, and dove right back into good ol' life. Monday was almost over and I realized,

I think the motivation to do something, usually comes AFTER you do it.

I knew it was time, I had to just force myself.  So I did. And I was amazed at what I found in my sacred time.  I had let this go on so long (a few weeks in a slump is like a relapse of trauma recovery to me!!) that I found my thoughts centering around hopelessness and even suicide! Hello!! I haven't gone there in FOREVER! It was a relief to just feel the feelings, think the thoughts, and let them flow and let them go.  They did flee more quickly than in the past.

So, it was a little meditation here, a little private yoga there. A few scriptures or bible videos here, a few hymns and extra prayers there. And slowly, I am digging my way back to the path of surrender and bliss.

So glad I forced myself BEFORE the motivation came. Otherwise, I think I would be sitting around waiting and wasting for a LONG time.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015


I was driving my daughter home from school, stopped at a red light. I looked across the street at a couple sitting in a tiny car.  She was driving. she had a pretty red blouse on, her hair curled, and a very obvious look of distress.  She said some things and he retorted. They were too far away to hear their voices.  I could make out her words pretty clearly, she spoke slowly but as she spoke I could tell she was crying.  He spoke quickly, I couldn't make out was he was saying, but he was mad.  His hands were flying all over and his eyes were shifting and he was shouting.

I recognized it right away.  Her chest was rising and falling dramatically and you could see that her entire world had just come crashing down on her.  She was waiting at a red light as well, but her eyes never left the road, her hands gripped the steering wheel. Tunnel vision had come upon her and the whole world was spinning around her. She was upset, and he was blaming and defensive.

I knew exactly what was going on!

Just before I turned, as my light had turned green, I read the words out of her mouth.
They said,
"So you lied to me?"

We run to someone with all our might. With all our hearts, with all our emotion, with all ourselves.  And then, in that moment when we least expect it, we find ourselves on the ground.  

I have no idea why this impacted me so deeply. It was rather sacred really.  To see two human beings in this, their moment of truth. It was Their Moment. Their D-Day. The day that is written in history. The day that will shift everything, whether they know it or not.  

 I have had that kind of a moment. I have felt exactly how she was feeling. I have been the crazy woman behind the wheel who seriously should just pull off the road!!  

I said a prayer for them, and for her. And I sent whatever love and healing I could, through my well wishes.  And I drove home the rest of the way contemplating this life. Contemplating family. 

Family has to start with two people, two imperfect people.  We don't parade our imperfections. People tell us that marriage is a risk. We "understand" that 
marriage is a risk, 
                               love in general is a risk, 
                                                                        LIFE itself is a risk.  
                                                                                                         We don't really get it.  
And it's a good thing too! Otherwise who would still take the risk?!! So we fall in love, and we get married, and we do all the things that Heavenly Father has designed for us to do.  We have children. We try to keep our families safe and cared for.  
Image result for hanging from a thread
But no matter who you are, no matter where you come from, no matter what your upbringing, no matter what you job or status in life, the whole thing, the whole FAMILY thing, is hanging from one tiny thread.  That thread is called hope and trust, and it comes with lots of risk.  

Even if the thread is a rope, there is still risk.

Even if the thread is a chain, there is still risk.

No matter what we do, we are riding on risk  because no matter what people SAY, you just never know for sure what they will DO.  No matter how much you know about them, you never know enough to be able to say, "the risk is over."

The risk is never over. 

Even if there is no addiction involved (which, does that even exist? Everyone seems to struggle with addiction of some sort) there are still job changes, interest changes, mid-life crisis' to endure, major trials to endure, the sand-paper of life to endure, and everyone has their own ability to choose.  

The only thing we can be certain of in this life is that:
God is trustworthy
God is on our side
our relationship WITH God involves NO RISK.
And everything else DOES involve risk and uncertainty.
RISK is the way of life, and without it, we haven't really lived.

We can only trust Him, that as we hang ourselves out their, dangling from a thread, that He is ready to catch us when everyone around us has watched us fall.


Saturday, May 16, 2015


Today I woke up, sneaked out of bed from my daughter who had sneaked in overnight, threw on yoga clothes and grabbed my mat.  I opened the front door and set up my mat right in front of my front door and just started moving.  The sky was brilliant, the sun was peeking in and out behind clouds.  And organically in my movements I found myself bowing. 

There was a bright eyed girl, 7 years ago, who had nothing but good intentions and a heart full of love and hope for  a bright future.  She woke up early, 7 years ago also, in anticipation of the biggest day of her life.  The day she would get married in the temple.  She prayed and prayed about her decision and felt confident in God's answer.  She had done the work, she had only been baptized 2 years and had allowed the Savior to cleanse and change her life dramatically in those 2 years. She was radiant.  Her faith shined through her eyes.  She was confident in this choice, to be married not just anywhere but here in the temple, even though it meant none of her family could attend.  She was also confident in the man she was to enter into this covenant with.  Confident that he would lead her and her family down the straight and narrow to return to Heavenly Father again.  She made this choice and she stood alone. The temple matron asked, "isn't there ANYONE who can sit beside you in the ceremony?" But there was no one, she bravely made this decision alone.  She was beautiful, clean and bright. She was virtuous and lovely. It was beautiful.

I bow to her.

Then just as organically as that happened, I found myself bowing again.

There was a bright eyed returned missionary, 7 years ago, who had nothing but good intentions and a heart full of love and hope for a bright future.  With a sharp hair cut and clean shaven face, he was a sweet baby becoming a man that day.  He had done the work, he had prepared, he made his way to the temple.  He had a bright future, a soft heart and a knowledge of the Gospel and Scriptures to guide him as he entered into this covenant to lead this family, in a companionship with his wife.  He was strong and valiant, he was kind and gentle, and even virtuous, and he was so in love. 

I bow to him.

Bowing shows a deep sense of reverence.  It is a way of honoring that person.  It is a symbol, and action representing something more. It shows that you revere them.  And that is exactly how I feel about those two people of the past.  Myself, and my husband. 

The years that followed have brought so much pain and confusion.  As well as 3 beautiful children and lots of mountains to climb.

Neither of us intended for all of this to happen.  I could have never foreseen what was to come, but neither could he.  He thought he had done what was necessary to be clean and that by getting married, all his problems would be solved.  That is what he was told.  And that became a heavy burden of shame when that little "trick" didn't work.  That shame was reinforced when his Bishop told him not to tell his wife. And so the story goes.

How could we have gone from there,
                                                             that beautiful day 7 years ago,
                                                                                                                to here?

Separated for the second time, unsure of how things are going to pan out, unsure of who each other really are, unsure of the best path, unsure of everything.  Each of us with our weaknesses fully exposed. Weaknesses that we didn't even realize we had, or that we didn't fully realize the depth of the thorn's in our own flesh, on that day 7 years ago.  We didn't even realize. And today, they are fully exposed. We are both showing up to the table and broken human beings.  We both want this to still work.  But it is so much harder when we aren't both pretending that we are perfect.

Enduring to the end. That is what this is.  We have made all the covenants necessary to enter into the Kingdom, now we go on the rest of life, enduring, being tested and tried in all ways in the covenants we have made.  Truly being heated beyond our melting point in the crucible of the family. 

And finally, I bow, in gratitude, to the 7 years.  To the grace of the Savior that has allowed for humility, bravery and courage. To the fact that I am still here in this marriage trying. To the fact that he is still in recovery. To the hours of prayers and tears and struggle.  To the years of scrimping and saving and sacrificing. To the journey.

I bow...
these are the things worth bowing to.

Saturday, May 9, 2015


I have been doing gardening lately.  I started some from seed.  I put the seeds in little slots with dirt, watered them and set them by a window.  I only have to water them every other day and they grow!

I was thinking about this today while I was reading Alma 32.  He says if you aren't sure about something, and you can only desire to believe in something, then just plant the seed in faith.  If it grows then you know it is a good seed.  If it doesn't grow, then you can know it is a bad seed and cast it out.

Then he gives a disclaimer.  If it is a good seed but you never nourish it or water it and you neglect it, then you pluck it up and cast it out, assuming it was a bad seed.  But actually it was your fault that it didn't work.

I have read this scripture more than once thinking of my marriage.  Thinking, "am I nourishing it? Have I neglected it? Have I neglected my husband? What more can I do to nourish it?! Why isn't the seed producing?!"

And I realized today that going into this gardening thing is a lot like making covenants of marriage.  I decide I want a garden.  I choose the seeds.  I do all that I can, with the assumption (or promise that has been made to me) that the sun will rise every day and shine on my seeds.  If sun didn't shine, and therefore my plants didn't grow, I should be thinking, "what's happening with the sun?!"  But instead I would think I must have done something wrong, or there must be something wrong with my seeds.

I know the seed is good, a temple marriage is a true, good, virtuous thing.  I have felt that confirmation and I hear my leaders talk about it all time and I BELIEVE in eternal families with all my heart.

So that eliminates the seed, as the problem.  That leaves only me.

So I up my game, and try harder, and give more, and surrender more, and give more time and effort and love and all that I have into nourishing this seed.  To the point where there was nothing left to give.

But no amount of extra care, or worry, or love, or anything I do will help these seeds to grow because the sun is not shining.

I went into this assuming that the sun would shine.  Actually the sun made the same promise to God that I made, I would nourish and nurture and he would shine.  And then the sun didn't.  So I forged on alone.  And I got so worn out.  And the seeds are not growing.

The seeds I ACTUALLY (not metaphorically) planted this year, I planted in mid march.  They have grown and it is time to go put them out in the planter boxes in the yard.  The only problem is, my tomato plants are only about 4 inches tall.  I didn't give them enough time to grow.  I should've planted them in early February.  I'm probably going to have to just go buy plants even after all this effort!

But as far as my marriage goes, right now I am just giving the seeds more time to grow.

Every season I try them out, every season I plant in faith, whether or not the sun is shining.  I have three sweet children which have proven wonderful fruits of this marriage.  And there was ONE season, last year, where I felt like I really might actually get to reap the fruits of these seeds.... Surely one day I will get to reap the fruits of my temple marriage.
Image result for seedlings

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

input please! Red Flags? Signs?

I wrote these notes during a conversation with my husband, during the week that he was relapsing and not telling me.  I wrote them on my blog, I can't remember why, I think my computer was just open to my blog so I wrote the notes here, as a draft.  I just found it again and realized, I probably should go ahead and post this.  Here's the thing, THIS, these notes, are the only RED FLAG that I had that something wasn't right. At the time I wasn't even looking for "red flags" or "signs that he is acting out" because we were coming up on a year of sobriety and he was doing so good!!! It isn't that I wasn't willing to keep my eyes open and was just trying to bury my head in the sand.  I WASN'T! The signs were just not much... just not much.  And now look where we are.  So recently when my Bishop counciled me to "never stop looking for signs," I feel like signs are stupid. It is like asking us to be mind readers!
Read on, tell me what you think. sorry for the incomplete sentences and improper grammar :)

The title of this blog on March 12th was:
flowers, chocolates, gifts and "i hate our marriage"
Watching our lives go along would make for a very confusing movie.  I am certainly confused. We are up, then we are down, then we are in between.  We are connected then we are stale. He is bringing me chocolates and then he is mad at me, flowers, and then he is mad at me, sticky notes all over the house of my character strengths, and then THIS conversation! Our marriage is a wreck.

Things he said to me:
man in recovery
run a business
sponsoring a guy
church duty's
speak my love languages
didnt call anyone because he just wanted to talk to me
hurting so much
dont know what to do
one foot in front of the other
can't do it- our marriage
can't do it- his life
would be nice to be separated for a while
honesty is scary

And then THE SWITCH (which totally makes me feel crazy) after I validated his emotions and told him that he was a good person and that he was just overwhelmed. ( I had realized this was actually not about me and our marriage, but again never suspected a relapse.) He said:

your responses have been really great
you've been awesome all this last week with your responses
a lot of things he has been aftraid to share
doesnt want to share things with me when i am not doing well
feels like he has terrible timing
if i dont share these things, when will i share them
just wanted to talk to you
felt more and more safe and comfortable to share with you
sharing them all more and more, little by little
wow, something I have known before, but when things are going good i shut out things that are bothering me and just focus on the good and positive things.  I dont want to disturb the peace.  People pleasing and wanting to keep things happy.
want to be able to say, hey that was mean and made me feel sad.
reading the book is helpful for him
our marriage has sucked. it doesnt have to forever
a lot of things he can do and is working to do to do better
really hard and really hurts for both of us
a lot is just crappy stuff
feel bad bc it has hurt so much for me
fear of the consequences and damage for this whole interaction and hurting me
feels grateful, heard, feels important, appreciated

Obviously I was confused. Obviously I was terrified when he said those things about wishing we could be separated and that he wanted out of our marriage. I was so confused.  I did hear him say "honesty is scary," I knew he was referring to sharing his honest feelings with me, but I also heard it a little deeper for what it really was.  I have never said the statement "honesty is scary," because I have never felt that honesty is scary. So I guess that piqued my intuition a LITTLE bit, in fact in this conversation I asked if he had been struggling again with lust and he said no. (Later he told me that he had viewed porn for about 2 hours. just before talking to me.) But I took his word for it.  I mean look at the things he was saying!! A man can have a bad day in recovery and still be sober. The only REAL red flag here was his extremity of emotions.

hindsight's 20/20

There is no way I could've known in the moment that this was going to happen.  There was no way that I could have "seen it coming!" There were little things like this that started in early February.Victim thinking at times.  Blame, at times.  Making choices/taking action out of fear once or twice.  A few times where I felt objectified with sex stuff (so we hadn't been having much physical intimacy at all) A few impulse buys (of emergency preparedness items!) But nothing was consistent! He was also reading his scriptures most mornings, talking to his sponsee, checking in with his daily step 10 inventory (until like the end of February), attending at least 1 meeting each week, if not 2.  Doing his calling, going home teaching.  Being loving and supportive of my trauma sometimes.  Talking about the gospel and some of the Gospel centered books he had READ recently.  Working on emergency preparedness and food storage.

I  am not trying to pick him apart but I am trying to make a flowing narrative of what has happened to me since the turn of the new year and I feel like I am still a little bit stuck in the shock phase of this trauma and cant get out! I cant get into the acceptance, or the anger, or the sadness or whatever comes next because my head is still spinning but it has really been about 3 months (since the beginning of February) that I can look back and see how different he was.  It has been 2 months since he started relapsing. It has been just a little less than 2 months since I knew about it.  It has been only 4 weeks since I asked him to move out.