Well, I have found some truth. My feelings over the past few months that something is not right... my feelings were right. After a very LONG night of discussion, much more disclosure has been brought to light. All these feelings, all these times saying "I just feel that something isn't right", doing my searching and monitoring came up with nothing. But I couldn't shake the feeling.
God is a God of TRUTH. He will bring the truth forward in His time. I received truth last night (and a bit more this morning). I am grateful I worship a God of truth.
Yet there still lingers this confusion about the label of addiction. I have gone back and forth several times (via email) with my counsellor about my husband and whether he believes my husband has an actual addiction. MY TRUTH....I believe he does. No, it is not as severe/deep rooted as others. But there is no question that my husband cannot stop his behavior on his own. Even if it comes up every few months, and is not a driving force of his daily thoughts. When it does come up, he cannot always resist. Sometimes he can. My counsellor claims my husband is dancing on the line of addiction versus chronic behaviors that lead to addiction. My husband feels that the title doesn't really matter right now because it doesn't change the fact that he needs help to overcome WHATEVER THIS IS HE KEEPS DOING.
I am a word person. Proper use of words are important to me. Improper use of words BUG ME. Especially when they change the meaning of something very important. But perhaps that is a hang-up I need to let go of? perhaps I need to focus more on the HOW for recovery and change instead of the definition.
I hate cooking. I detest, loathe, abhor, dislike with a passion cooking. But for some reason my brain is creating a parallel here. If I focus on the WORD, does it really change what needs to be done? I could not tell you the difference between sauté and fry. But does that really matter? If I know that I need to heat up a pan, put the food in, leave it there for a few minutes, flip it and leave it there for a few more minutes (depending on what is being cooked)...the finished product should be fairly similar, no? Maybe some things need to be pushed around the pan a bit, some things need a different amount of time in the pan. But the word used perhaps isn't as important as the steps required to take you to your end goal. I'm sure that a professional chef may completely disagree that it DOES matter the difference between sauté and fry. But for my purposes right now, to get to the goal of a nicely cooked meal (lets not even get into talking about seasoning!) that will not leave you with food poisoning from undercooked meat...or to end the behaviors...perhaps the word doesn't really matter. Get the basics covered and then you can expand into polishing.
Addiction or addictive behaviors...the end goal is to STOP. To HEAL. If my husband (or myself) is willing to really work a 12 step program, receive counselling and dig deep in his/my soul to find healing and to stop the destructive behavior, isn't that what matters? If we are clearly aware that there is a problem that cannot be overcome on our own, and are willing to work to overcome it, isn't that what matters? Then, once the main demon is tamed/destroyed, we can work on polishing the rest of our self.
I think too, part of my struggle with this word is the impact (unexpected) it had on me to no longer feel like I "fit" anywhere. Feeling like a misfit in the world of addiction and certainly not fitting in a "normal" marriage. That is a deeper issue (polishing?) that I need to address. Coming to really believe that I am meant to be clay and molded as the Master Potter would have me, instead of squished into a cookie cutter (really, does ANYONE fit the cookie cutter? I think that may be one of my false beliefs).
And maybe I am completely off base and wrong. BUT, I do know that my God of TRUTH will help me figure this out. In the mean time, we will keep working on cooking that food so we don't get food poisoning, and one day get to enjoy seasoning techniques. (well, except for the fact that my husband is a GREAT cook and very talented with seasoning and various other culinary techniques...but that's beside the point).
Friday 24 January 2014
Tuesday 21 January 2014
Cookie cutters and clay
I have always liked cookie cutters. They are precise, you know what the finished product is going to turn out looking like, they are less messy. They just fit nicely.
I have tried to fit in various shapes of cookie cutters my entire life, but just never really fit any. I was involved in sports, but not an athlete; the arts, but not an artist or star performer; the intellectual/smart kids, but not really fitting there either. One teacher once told me you are either "artsy fartsy" or smart. Hmmm. I was both, I knew it. But to my young mind I was so torn because I just didn't FIT.
I tried being friends with "popular" kids, but only a bit because those kids at my school were doing things that did not sit right with my soul. I tried, experimented, made some friends, and then moved on. Never really finding my place. I had friends in different groups and felt torn trying to understand which group I fit in the best.
Even in my family I never felt like I really fit. I was loved, yes. But I was different, sort of. Even being "different" didn't totally fit because there were so many similarities.
When I began looking into religion, I thought I was looking for a church that fit MY beliefs, but really, deep down, I was trying to find a cookie cutter I fit or that fit me...I just wanted to fit. Then I learned about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, according to the teachings of the LDS church. It fit my heart more than I had imagined I would find. It even had a choir I could join (which was one of the things on my list I was looking for in a church)!
I felt that I didn't really fit when I was baptized (or afterwards) because of my life experiences. How could a person like me fit the cookie cutter mold of a Mormon? I was different from most of the other people my age because I was a convert, had experienced much that they never would have to face, I didn't have pioneer heritage or traditions of much that fit with the Gospel. I didn't have an eternal family. But I worked HARD to try and make myself fit. Sadly, that isolated me even more because in my efforts to fit what I thought was the cookie cutter, I became a sort of zealot. I was intense. The harder I tried to make myself fit the mold of a "good latter-day saint", the more alone I began to feel. For awhile I felt I just didn't fit in the Church at all. But Christ was in my heart and I had to find a way. Try harder, do it a bit different, look at how other people are living and try and be like them. Anything (almost) to FIT.
I married a returned missionary in the temple...isolating myself from my family, but determined that THIS was how I was going to finally have my cookie cutter life. It was a struggle from early on. I just didn't understand it. I tried to do all the things that we were taught we should do for the ideal family, but it just wasn't turning out like the cookie cutter. Lots of trials and struggles for many, many years. Our family just didn't fit the mold. Our counsellor even said to us one time, "the church teaches about the ideal, and you just do not fit the ideal mold." He was trying to be helpful to encourage me to look at other options that might make our life a bit more doable for me and my husband, but it was just another way that I didn't fit. I just wanted to FIT gosh-darnit!
And then D-day #1 happened. Any hope that I had been clinging to of progressing to a place where I fit was gone. My world had collapsed and I had no idea which way was up. We tried to rebuild, tried to overcome, tried to get back to "fitting" as best we could, but that cycle just always brought more problems (and more d-days). I did not fit the ideal LDS marriage/family, and I never would.
But then I discovered the world of WoPA's. I studied and read and learned and tried to morph myself and come to terms with my "new" identity as a WoPA. I joined forums and other groups, I read blogs and started my own, I began working 12 steps for betrayal trauma and recovery for loved ones of addicts. I learned a lot and felt like I may have found a place that I fit. Not the shape of a cookie cutter that I ever wanted to fit into, but part of my heart was happy to finally feel like I fit SOMEWHERE.
And then last week that all got flipped on it's head again. After over a year of counselling, we were told that our therapist does not believe my husband is an actual "addict". He is bordering on the line of addiction, had addictive tendencies and an addictive personality, but he is not to the point where he can be diagnosed as a sex addict or money addict or any specific "addict". He's close, as our therapist said, but doesn't quite fit the definition. My identitiy that I had come to accept (as a WoPA or WoA -wife of an addict) dissolved right in front of me. I no longer felt like I fit in the places that had become safe to me...the forums, blogs, support groups. Gone. Poof. Sure, I have faced betrayal and have experienced betrayal trauma. That is true. But I apparently am not a true WoPA. I am a WoAA...wife of an ALMOST ADDICT. I almost fit, but not quite. And that has been a hard blow. Reading the blogs and forum posts is just different now. It feels like another loss.
How is it that I am grieving losing my identity of being a WoPA? Really, that just sounds crazy to me, but it actually hurts. A lot. Because I want to fit. I want to feel like I'm not different AGAIN.
Additionally, with my "miracle" I received last week, that opened my eyes about my own destructive patterns and behaviors, I still don't "fit". I don't know if I have an actual addiction. I have researched this and while I fit SOME of the "qualifiers" of addiction, I don't fit all. It's like I just don't have enough dough to fit into all the corners of the addiction cookie cutter...as a wife or as an individual.
That should be a good thing, right? But it doesn't feel good. It hurts the part of me that just desperately wants to fit.
As I have pondered more on this, I am starting to gain a different perspective. Or perhaps, God is helping me to see it differently. Maybe God doesn't want me to be a cookie cutter? Maybe He wants me to fit HIS mold. But His mold for me isn't the same shape as anyone else. And I'm thinking He isn't wanting me to be the same as anyone else. He is a potter that molds the clay how He wants.
"But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand." Isaiah 64:8
I think God sometimes lets us try and help Him shape us. He wants us to be involved in bettering ourselves, actively engaged. But sometimes (and occasionally more than sometimes) we make a mess of the clay. And that is where the Master Potter steps in (if we let Him) to FIX us, instead of trying to FIT us into a certain mold. To smooth out the bumps, fill in the cracks, reshape the warped and wonky, to guide our hands as we try again (and again and again).
http://www.lds.org/general-conference/1982/04/beginning-again?lang=eng
"Arise, and go down to the potter's house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words.
Then I went down to the potter's house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels.
And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.
Then the word of the Lord came again to me, saying,
O house of Israel, (O Steel Cocoon), cannot I do with you as this potter?...Behold as the clay is in the potter's hand, so are ye in mine hand." Jeremiah 18:2-6
I think it is time I stop trying to fit a defined mold and embrace the vessel the Master Potter is shaping me to become. And if that doesn't fit in a certain group or category, that is ok. It does not take away the validity of what I am living. Jesus didn't fit the cookie cutter either.
I have tried to fit in various shapes of cookie cutters my entire life, but just never really fit any. I was involved in sports, but not an athlete; the arts, but not an artist or star performer; the intellectual/smart kids, but not really fitting there either. One teacher once told me you are either "artsy fartsy" or smart. Hmmm. I was both, I knew it. But to my young mind I was so torn because I just didn't FIT.
I tried being friends with "popular" kids, but only a bit because those kids at my school were doing things that did not sit right with my soul. I tried, experimented, made some friends, and then moved on. Never really finding my place. I had friends in different groups and felt torn trying to understand which group I fit in the best.
Even in my family I never felt like I really fit. I was loved, yes. But I was different, sort of. Even being "different" didn't totally fit because there were so many similarities.
When I began looking into religion, I thought I was looking for a church that fit MY beliefs, but really, deep down, I was trying to find a cookie cutter I fit or that fit me...I just wanted to fit. Then I learned about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, according to the teachings of the LDS church. It fit my heart more than I had imagined I would find. It even had a choir I could join (which was one of the things on my list I was looking for in a church)!
I felt that I didn't really fit when I was baptized (or afterwards) because of my life experiences. How could a person like me fit the cookie cutter mold of a Mormon? I was different from most of the other people my age because I was a convert, had experienced much that they never would have to face, I didn't have pioneer heritage or traditions of much that fit with the Gospel. I didn't have an eternal family. But I worked HARD to try and make myself fit. Sadly, that isolated me even more because in my efforts to fit what I thought was the cookie cutter, I became a sort of zealot. I was intense. The harder I tried to make myself fit the mold of a "good latter-day saint", the more alone I began to feel. For awhile I felt I just didn't fit in the Church at all. But Christ was in my heart and I had to find a way. Try harder, do it a bit different, look at how other people are living and try and be like them. Anything (almost) to FIT.
I married a returned missionary in the temple...isolating myself from my family, but determined that THIS was how I was going to finally have my cookie cutter life. It was a struggle from early on. I just didn't understand it. I tried to do all the things that we were taught we should do for the ideal family, but it just wasn't turning out like the cookie cutter. Lots of trials and struggles for many, many years. Our family just didn't fit the mold. Our counsellor even said to us one time, "the church teaches about the ideal, and you just do not fit the ideal mold." He was trying to be helpful to encourage me to look at other options that might make our life a bit more doable for me and my husband, but it was just another way that I didn't fit. I just wanted to FIT gosh-darnit!
And then D-day #1 happened. Any hope that I had been clinging to of progressing to a place where I fit was gone. My world had collapsed and I had no idea which way was up. We tried to rebuild, tried to overcome, tried to get back to "fitting" as best we could, but that cycle just always brought more problems (and more d-days). I did not fit the ideal LDS marriage/family, and I never would.
But then I discovered the world of WoPA's. I studied and read and learned and tried to morph myself and come to terms with my "new" identity as a WoPA. I joined forums and other groups, I read blogs and started my own, I began working 12 steps for betrayal trauma and recovery for loved ones of addicts. I learned a lot and felt like I may have found a place that I fit. Not the shape of a cookie cutter that I ever wanted to fit into, but part of my heart was happy to finally feel like I fit SOMEWHERE.
And then last week that all got flipped on it's head again. After over a year of counselling, we were told that our therapist does not believe my husband is an actual "addict". He is bordering on the line of addiction, had addictive tendencies and an addictive personality, but he is not to the point where he can be diagnosed as a sex addict or money addict or any specific "addict". He's close, as our therapist said, but doesn't quite fit the definition. My identitiy that I had come to accept (as a WoPA or WoA -wife of an addict) dissolved right in front of me. I no longer felt like I fit in the places that had become safe to me...the forums, blogs, support groups. Gone. Poof. Sure, I have faced betrayal and have experienced betrayal trauma. That is true. But I apparently am not a true WoPA. I am a WoAA...wife of an ALMOST ADDICT. I almost fit, but not quite. And that has been a hard blow. Reading the blogs and forum posts is just different now. It feels like another loss.
How is it that I am grieving losing my identity of being a WoPA? Really, that just sounds crazy to me, but it actually hurts. A lot. Because I want to fit. I want to feel like I'm not different AGAIN.
Additionally, with my "miracle" I received last week, that opened my eyes about my own destructive patterns and behaviors, I still don't "fit". I don't know if I have an actual addiction. I have researched this and while I fit SOME of the "qualifiers" of addiction, I don't fit all. It's like I just don't have enough dough to fit into all the corners of the addiction cookie cutter...as a wife or as an individual.
That should be a good thing, right? But it doesn't feel good. It hurts the part of me that just desperately wants to fit.
As I have pondered more on this, I am starting to gain a different perspective. Or perhaps, God is helping me to see it differently. Maybe God doesn't want me to be a cookie cutter? Maybe He wants me to fit HIS mold. But His mold for me isn't the same shape as anyone else. And I'm thinking He isn't wanting me to be the same as anyone else. He is a potter that molds the clay how He wants.
"But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand." Isaiah 64:8
I think God sometimes lets us try and help Him shape us. He wants us to be involved in bettering ourselves, actively engaged. But sometimes (and occasionally more than sometimes) we make a mess of the clay. And that is where the Master Potter steps in (if we let Him) to FIX us, instead of trying to FIT us into a certain mold. To smooth out the bumps, fill in the cracks, reshape the warped and wonky, to guide our hands as we try again (and again and again).
http://www.lds.org/general-conference/1982/04/beginning-again?lang=eng
"Arise, and go down to the potter's house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words.
Then I went down to the potter's house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels.
And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.
Then the word of the Lord came again to me, saying,
O house of Israel, (O Steel Cocoon), cannot I do with you as this potter?...Behold as the clay is in the potter's hand, so are ye in mine hand." Jeremiah 18:2-6
I think it is time I stop trying to fit a defined mold and embrace the vessel the Master Potter is shaping me to become. And if that doesn't fit in a certain group or category, that is ok. It does not take away the validity of what I am living. Jesus didn't fit the cookie cutter either.
Tuesday 14 January 2014
Requested and unexpected miracle
So the past week and a half I have been praying fervently for a miracle to occur in my family. You know the kind...that my husband will have a real and lasting change of heart and will REALLY choose to pursue recovery - and find success. I had even told my husband that I was praying for a miracle (and strongly encouraged him to do the same) as we prepare for our next counselling session in a few days. My "recommendation" to my husband was quite strongly worded and did not go over too well. We both had withdrawn and our home felt like it was a part of the major deep freeze that has been happening in parts of North America (not where we live though).
On Sunday I fasted. Fasting is REALLY hard for me. I usually end up nauseous and with a headache, sometimes dizzy, physical pain and pretty grouchy. This time it was different. I hardly felt hungry at all and really didn't struggle with it. This was HUGE for me. An indication to me that God recognized the sacrifice I was making to fast and that He was aware of me and my needs. That increased my faith that I may actually receive the miracle I was seeking.
I know miracles happen. I have seen MAJOR miracles happen to people I know. I wanted it to be my turn.
I fasted for specific revelation to know how to move forward with my marriage (or not), for a major change to take place with my husband that I will be able to see. I also threw in at the end of my day, "and bless me to be able to recognize what Thou would have me change/improve about myself". I was thinking letting go of the trauma, control, self care, getting my life in order....you know... personal growth kind of general stuff.
I felt nothing. I received NO revelation. Not even a hint of inspiration. Crickets. AND, my husband was still withdrawn and still didn't apologize for some of the very hurtful things he had done that week...even though I DID!
Sheesh! WHAT'S THE DEAL???
Monday came around and we had a long talk that just went around and around in circles. Not much changed. My frustrations were growing and I felt so discouraged.
And then my miracle came, completely disguised as a swift kick to my gut.
Monday night God opened my eyes. And it HURT. Something happened and as I went out that evening to run some errands and think about my life, God showed me that I have an addiction too.
GASP!!!
It is different...different theme, different ways of "acting out". But it is the same. Addiction is addiction. I actually am not sure if it is a specifically defined "addiction", but being a destructive behavior pattern that causes harm to myself and my loved ones, that has continued on even though I have taken steps previously to try and stop it...sounds pretty fitting to me. I am not stuck on the label. Addiction is the word I am familiar with and for now, that is how I will look at what I am facing.
I knew before that this was something that isn't good. But it wasn't so clear to me as it was on Monday that this goes beyond a character weakness and will continue to progress unless I do something about it now. As I pondered on it I saw this pattern: Sometimes I can see myself heading down that road and can stop. Other times I see myself going there and don't stop or CAN'T stop. And still other times I find myself in the THICK of it and wonder "how the HECK did I get here?" and either get control of myself or let it snowball.
Now I'm not really surprised that I have an addiction. Being raised with addiction all around me, and then (unknowingly) marrying someone who would become an addict (yes, it came after we were married...but the core issues are lifelong), it is sort of to be expected that there is some sort of addictive issue with me as well. I have believed for a long time that if I were to begin drinking, it would lead me down the same tragic path as my precious Mama. I have been proud to tell myself I couldn't hurt my kids like that and thus I loathe alcohol with a passion. (Insert a nice self-righteous pat on the back here).
But the truth, the PAINFUL truth, is that my addiction is JUST as destructive to the well being of my family (and self and marriage) as my husband's or my parents.
This is really hard to swallow. For so long I have focused on the pain my husband (and parents) have caused me, of the rotten things done to me. And I have ignored, minimized, rationalized or justified my own behavior and the damage it is doing. To be clear...my husband and parents are not off the hook...they HAVE caused a lot of pain and harm and my husband still has a lot of work to do for his addictions. But God has shown me it is time for me to take responsibility for my actions and change. As I woke up this morning I found myself back to minimizing and rationalizing away all that I had felt last night (Monday). All of those things that "addicts" tell themselves..."it's not THAT bad", "don't tell anyone", "you can just overcome this on your own", "it could be WAY worse"...and on and on and on. But I cannot listen to that. I know enough about addiction and recovery now (thanks hubby and parents!) to know those are huge red flags. And so somehow I am able to let go of those thoughts and remember what God showed me last night and remember what I have learned along this journey of learning about addiction.
OUCH.
This is my miracle. This is NOT what I prayed for (or at least not what I MEANT to pray for). This is not what I WANTED. I don't feel good about this...yet. I have faith that with time and work I will come to be grateful for this miracle. I can see that it is a blessing (or will be). But right now, it hurts. A LOT. There is shame and pain and guilt and self hatred and .....a lot of tears. Sorrow. But underneath (or maybe above?) all of that is the very quiet voice that is whispering "you CAN do this. It will be ok. There is healing available for ALL."
Right now I feel a very strange sort of compassion for my husband (and parents). A better understanding. Still much pain from their choices. And I still need healing for that. But there is this new dynamic that still has my head spinning a bit. Just as I believe the Savior can heal my husband, so can He heal me...from my trauma and my addiction.
God is good, even if He makes us exclaim OUCH! sometimes.
On Sunday I fasted. Fasting is REALLY hard for me. I usually end up nauseous and with a headache, sometimes dizzy, physical pain and pretty grouchy. This time it was different. I hardly felt hungry at all and really didn't struggle with it. This was HUGE for me. An indication to me that God recognized the sacrifice I was making to fast and that He was aware of me and my needs. That increased my faith that I may actually receive the miracle I was seeking.
I know miracles happen. I have seen MAJOR miracles happen to people I know. I wanted it to be my turn.
I fasted for specific revelation to know how to move forward with my marriage (or not), for a major change to take place with my husband that I will be able to see. I also threw in at the end of my day, "and bless me to be able to recognize what Thou would have me change/improve about myself". I was thinking letting go of the trauma, control, self care, getting my life in order....you know... personal growth kind of general stuff.
I felt nothing. I received NO revelation. Not even a hint of inspiration. Crickets. AND, my husband was still withdrawn and still didn't apologize for some of the very hurtful things he had done that week...even though I DID!
Sheesh! WHAT'S THE DEAL???
Monday came around and we had a long talk that just went around and around in circles. Not much changed. My frustrations were growing and I felt so discouraged.
And then my miracle came, completely disguised as a swift kick to my gut.
Monday night God opened my eyes. And it HURT. Something happened and as I went out that evening to run some errands and think about my life, God showed me that I have an addiction too.
GASP!!!
It is different...different theme, different ways of "acting out". But it is the same. Addiction is addiction. I actually am not sure if it is a specifically defined "addiction", but being a destructive behavior pattern that causes harm to myself and my loved ones, that has continued on even though I have taken steps previously to try and stop it...sounds pretty fitting to me. I am not stuck on the label. Addiction is the word I am familiar with and for now, that is how I will look at what I am facing.
I knew before that this was something that isn't good. But it wasn't so clear to me as it was on Monday that this goes beyond a character weakness and will continue to progress unless I do something about it now. As I pondered on it I saw this pattern: Sometimes I can see myself heading down that road and can stop. Other times I see myself going there and don't stop or CAN'T stop. And still other times I find myself in the THICK of it and wonder "how the HECK did I get here?" and either get control of myself or let it snowball.
Now I'm not really surprised that I have an addiction. Being raised with addiction all around me, and then (unknowingly) marrying someone who would become an addict (yes, it came after we were married...but the core issues are lifelong), it is sort of to be expected that there is some sort of addictive issue with me as well. I have believed for a long time that if I were to begin drinking, it would lead me down the same tragic path as my precious Mama. I have been proud to tell myself I couldn't hurt my kids like that and thus I loathe alcohol with a passion. (Insert a nice self-righteous pat on the back here).
But the truth, the PAINFUL truth, is that my addiction is JUST as destructive to the well being of my family (and self and marriage) as my husband's or my parents.
This is really hard to swallow. For so long I have focused on the pain my husband (and parents) have caused me, of the rotten things done to me. And I have ignored, minimized, rationalized or justified my own behavior and the damage it is doing. To be clear...my husband and parents are not off the hook...they HAVE caused a lot of pain and harm and my husband still has a lot of work to do for his addictions. But God has shown me it is time for me to take responsibility for my actions and change. As I woke up this morning I found myself back to minimizing and rationalizing away all that I had felt last night (Monday). All of those things that "addicts" tell themselves..."it's not THAT bad", "don't tell anyone", "you can just overcome this on your own", "it could be WAY worse"...and on and on and on. But I cannot listen to that. I know enough about addiction and recovery now (thanks hubby and parents!) to know those are huge red flags. And so somehow I am able to let go of those thoughts and remember what God showed me last night and remember what I have learned along this journey of learning about addiction.
OUCH.
This is my miracle. This is NOT what I prayed for (or at least not what I MEANT to pray for). This is not what I WANTED. I don't feel good about this...yet. I have faith that with time and work I will come to be grateful for this miracle. I can see that it is a blessing (or will be). But right now, it hurts. A LOT. There is shame and pain and guilt and self hatred and .....a lot of tears. Sorrow. But underneath (or maybe above?) all of that is the very quiet voice that is whispering "you CAN do this. It will be ok. There is healing available for ALL."
Right now I feel a very strange sort of compassion for my husband (and parents). A better understanding. Still much pain from their choices. And I still need healing for that. But there is this new dynamic that still has my head spinning a bit. Just as I believe the Savior can heal my husband, so can He heal me...from my trauma and my addiction.
God is good, even if He makes us exclaim OUCH! sometimes.
Saturday 4 January 2014
Darkness painted with words
Darkness abounds.
It is winning today.
Screaming and fighting children.
A house in shambles.
An empty fridge.
A dwindling pantry.
Financial prison, with a very small hope of parole or pardon.
Job lay-off.
Future employment prospects low.
Dreams shattered.
Recovery progress slower than the slowest snail.
More non-disclosures discovered.
The pain of detachment.
The loneliness of living with secret pain.
Anger rages inside like a storm.
Sadness thicker than the earth's crust.
A mind frantically searching for answers.
A soul yearning to feel God's love and direction.
Silence amid deafening sounds.
Exhaustion that prevents sleep.
Hiding in bed.
Unable to cry anymore.
Stuck.
It is winning today.
Screaming and fighting children.
A house in shambles.
An empty fridge.
A dwindling pantry.
Financial prison, with a very small hope of parole or pardon.
Job lay-off.
Future employment prospects low.
Dreams shattered.
Recovery progress slower than the slowest snail.
More non-disclosures discovered.
The pain of detachment.
The loneliness of living with secret pain.
Anger rages inside like a storm.
Sadness thicker than the earth's crust.
A mind frantically searching for answers.
A soul yearning to feel God's love and direction.
Silence amid deafening sounds.
Exhaustion that prevents sleep.
Hiding in bed.
Unable to cry anymore.
Stuck.
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