Lasting Change: Part 2

My journal entry:

"January 24, 2014 Friday

My husband has been lying to me.  He let me believe that things were going well with his pornography situation when they most certainly have not.  He’s fallen repeatedly over the last two weeks.  Never on holidays, never on vacation, but when the day to day grind is back, he has been having problems.

I was mad when he told me.  Mad that he had lied.  Mad that he was covering it up.  Mad that he let me mark the calendar with positive numbers and still didn’t say anything.  I listened to what he had to say.  He read his journal entry that he wrote this morning before he got the nerve to confess to me...." 

This was when things started to really and truly change.  He came home after a group session and his heart was open and humble.  I can't remember what step in the recovery program they had talked about that evening, but I remember the effect.  I cautiously told him my feelings.  About the hurts he didn't know about.  About the effect that the pornography addiction was having on my ability to be attracted to him sexually and non-sexually.  How hard it was to look him in the eye.

We talked about the addiction and that perhaps we were wrong.  Perhaps the addiction wasn't the real problem but something else.  That's when depression came up.  We had both been so wrapped up in the act and shame of pornography that we were ignoring what was triggering him to turn there.  What was going on in his life that he felt he needed to indulge in something?

Depression. 

As we explored this possibility together it became more and more clear that depression was a huge problem.  He was no longer enjoying his job, he was having a hard time with his calling, his duties as husband and father.  He didn't want to get out of bed in the morning.  Sometimes he couldn't get out of bed in the morning. The light in his eyes was so dim.  So... beaten down.  There was so much that needed to be accomplished that it was overwhelming to him.  He could see no escape and no end to any of it.  He couldn't sit down and watch episode after episode of some harmless television show like I can when I have a bad day.  He didn't have the time to escape into a good book.  He had to work 52 hour weeks and make time for his calling, and feel guilt about what he was not able to do with the family.

Things became clear.  He saw his addiction... we saw his addiction... for what it was and what it was not.  He was not a sex addict.  He was not a bad person.  He was not depraved and base and someone to be shunned.  He was a man having a problem with depression.  He was searching for escape and because of exposure early on in his life his way of escape was harmful.  

More from that same journal entry.

"I don’t have vast experience with his addiction, but I have worlds of experience with depression.  I know exactly what it’s like to have the cloud hanging over your head raining on everything in your life.  I know how hard it is to find the break.  I know how impossible it feels to try to make your situation better.  Overwhelmed and buried.

We can’t change his responsibilities, but we can change his outlook.

I suggested that he start keeping a gratitude journal because it had done so much for me in the past.  I told him to start looking for service opportunities.  Little ones that won’t be a burden but a blessing.  I told him to be kind with himself.  I told him to stop feeling ashamed."

We started treating the real problem.  He started doing little things to help change his outlook on life.  Little acts of service, of gratitude, of finding and seeing silver linings.  He continued on with group meetings and intends to keep going for years to come.  He has embraced the 12-step program and puts his whole heart and soul into doing them in the right way.  

His countenance began to change.  The light came back to his eyes and he became happy once again.  Happy like I hadn't seen him in years.

The day we realized that his real problem was depression was the day that my husband's temptations ceased to have that overpowering grip on him.  He is still tempted at times but they do not overwhelm him into action.  When those temptations come he is able to see them for what they are.  He is able to remove himself from the situation and change his outlook.

He told me recently that he used to be tempted several times a day and now he goes whole weeks without being tempted.  Those were sweet words to hear.

Last Tuesday he got his temple recommend back.  We both know that this is not the end of the problem.  We both made that mistake before and do not want to make it again.  My husband and I both have changed our habits.  We are more aware than ever before of the power of little things.  But it is a step towards lasting change.

Lasting Change: Part 1

Isn't that what we all want?  Lasting change.

My husband is doing better.  Better than I have ever seen before.  The kind of better that makes you hold your breath and not tell anyone in case you jinx the change that seems to be taking place.  At last.  At long, long last.

My husband confessed to me last November/December to having been caught up in pornography for the past year.  He didn't tell me because he was embarrassed.  He planned to tell me after he had gotten the problem taken care of.  When he got it under control and it was again part of his past and not the present. 

It got worse.  The addiction cycle got worse.  The guilt got worse, and yet he still justified his actions.  Justified his need to not tell me, to do it himself.  He thought he really could fix it, stop it, take care of it all by himself.  I may not even had needed to know.

When my husband finally told me it felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me, but worse. I felt "led on".  I was led to believe that everything was okay.  That pornography wasn't the problem that it used to be.  I could safely feel like one of those couples who had kicked it.  Gotten rid of it.  Safely in recovery never to be tempted the same way again.  In fact I had asked him point blank on several occasions whether everything was "okay".  He smiled and gave me the affirmative.

I was so angry.  So angry that I couldn't really put words to it at first.  I said things in short bursts and then walked away, only to turn around and say something else about the incredulity of it all.  I couldn't look him in the eye for days.  I communicated only out of necessity.  We put on a good front for our child, the last thing I wanted him to do was think that something was off with mom and dad.  But still, I couldn't look him in the eye.  I couldn't talk to him about anything other than the weather, or whether he wanted an egg with his breakfast.

After three days of communicating out of necessity rather than want, I told him "This is why people get divorced over these things.  Because of the lying."

I didn't know what to do and I was pretty sure that I couldn't help him.  I just couldn't.  I couldn't go through the rah rah sis boom bahness of it all again.  I couldn't take any responsibility for his recovery.  He had to do it.  I had to take care of myself.

I began to go to the temple a lot.  Like weekly if possible.  One of the perks of having a husband who works from home is that I can put the little one down for a nap and then do a session at the temple.  I was also seeing a footzoner who was helping me work through a lot of my own issues that had been buried for years.  I was finding out about myself, why I react to some things the way I do.  Why some things gave me anxiety that didn't need to.  I was finding out that I had a lot of baggage that I didn't need to hold onto anymore from the years before my husband was ever involved.  A lot that I could give to the Savior and let it out of my life forever.  I began to see myself with more loving eyes.  My whole self.  Nothing had changed with my husband but lots had changed with my heart.

I went to the temple to do a session and ask for help.  Help in knowing what the Lord would have me do for my husband.  How could I best be of service to him.  Without going into too much detail, I decided that I needed to be Adam's Eve.  I needed to be the support and helpmeet to him.  Meaning that we were in this together, side by side.  Two are stronger than one.  He is my husband, we made covenants with each other and with God.  I would stick by his side and support him however I could.  I would continue on with my duties and do my best to find joy in the service. 

I could be a good wife.  I could be a good mother.  However, I could not take over his role.  I could be his Eve but I could not be Adam.  He had to step up to that role.  He had to fill up that hole in my life, but he wasn't ready to yet.  At least not completely.

My husband started meeting regularly with the bishop.  He began going to weekly group meetings.  He fell again.  I got frustrated and angry.  I found solace and comfort in the scriptures and service.  They had been coming alive for me.  Things that I had read so very many times before took on new meaning.  Greater meaning.  It was like I was seeing them with new eyes.  My cup was getting filled.

He kept on messing up, I kept on going to the temple.  The temple was saving me.  And him for that matter.  In that quiet place of solitude and service, answers were starting to come.

To be continued.

Dust Yourself Off

I asked my husband what he would do if your our situations were switched.  What we he do if I was the one with the problem rather than him.

I asked because the things that would work for me don't work for him.  The things that I default to, because they would help me, are not the same things that work for him.  His motivation is different than mine.  Well maybe not different, we are both motivated by family and God, but they ways in which we harness that motivating power are different.  I like lists.  I like making goals that I can see every day.  It motivates me to do better if I have a short term reward.  Like daily.

Those things don't work the same for my husband.  After 8 years of marriage I still have no idea what works for him.  So I asked.  "What would you do if it were me?" in the hopes of finding out what his motivation is.  He thought on that for most of the day before giving me his answer.  This is what he said:

"Knowing what I know and having been in the situation, if it were reversed I would respond with compassion."

It stopped me short.

That's exactly what he would do.  He would hold me in his arms and cry with me.

We all have different love languages and I had been ignoring his.  Well maybe not ignoring, but I didn't realize how powerful his language is to him.  Spoken words mean a lot to him as well as physical touch.

For me it's written words, gifts, and service.  Words said out loud are easily dismissible for me, but written down have much more power.  As it turns out we were both unaware that we weren't "saying I love you" in a way that the other could take to heart.

This morning I was listening to a conference talk by Elder Uchtdorf.  It was the one from the last priesthood session entitled "You Can Do It Now".  In it he said:

 "I have watched men filled with potential and grace disengage from the challenging work of building the kingdom of God because they had failed a time or two or more.  These were men of promise who could have been exceptional priesthood holders and servants of God....

Brethren, our destiny is not determined by the number of times we stumble but by the number of times we rise up, dust ourselves off, and move forward."

I get discouraged.  I get downhearted.  I want to see giant leaps of progress with no stumbling.  But I know better in my heart of hearts.  And so does God.  He knew we would stumble.  He knew we would make mistakes.  That's why he provided his Son to help us.  All of us.

I can give my husband compassion so he can rise up, dust himself off, and move forward.

Save He Shall Prepare a Way

I started this blog for a couple of reasons. 

One was so that I could share our story.  So that I could throw it out into the world and have it heard by someone else.  So that it wouldn't be bottled up inside of me like a cancer in my soul. 

The second reason is so that I could share what I've learned through my failures and successes in some hope that someone else can draw strength from them.  So that someone else can learn from my mistakes.

Yesterday my husband had an "incident".  He had been clean for 33 days.  I know because we have been marking it on the calendar as a victory for each clean day.  I was angry.  So very angry.  I felt frustrated that 33 days were thrown away.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't know how to react.  I didn't know that he was even close to the edge let alone over it.

In my heart of hearts I want to be the supportive compassionate wife that my husband needs.  And also in my heart of hearts I know that I'm not perfect.  I do not have perfect compassion.  I have knee-jerk reactions.  I have emotional and eternal ties to the situation and I have been as supportive as I know how.  It felt like a slap in the face that leaves you a bit numb and cold on the inside.

My husband was sorry.  He told me as soon as it had happened. He also let the bishop know.  He's on the right track.  He was disappointed in himself more than I could be.

I spent the day wondering what to do.  What needed to be changed in our relationship, our home, our patterns.  How did it happen?  How did I not know that he was so close.  I wrongly assumed that he was getting stronger with each passing day when in fact he was getting weaker. 

I do not have the answers to the questions.  God does.

I was reading my scripture this morning and was drawn to Nephi 3:7.  I have heard this scripture all of my life and never till this moment has it taken a personal meaning to me.

"And it came to pass that I, Nephi, said unto my father: I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them."

My husband and I were married in the temple.  I made covenants with God concerning my marriage.  I know that Heavenly Father knew our situation.  He knew what we would be dealing with in our marriage.  God knows and has prepared a way for us through this trial and all the trials we deal with.

I may not know how to help my husband or myself, but if I ask God with real intent, He can help me do what is best.  Marriage is hard.  Pornography makes it so much more difficult.  But with God all things are possible. 

*Disclaimer: This is not a judgment on anyone else's marriage or situation.  You have your own path, your own relationship with your spouse and with God and that is how it should be.

Chapter 3: Dating and more

My husband was confused about why I ended my last installment on such a downer.  He was hoping for more I guess.  I thought it fit perfectly.  Perfectly because we had so much good going on, so much love, and all it took was one "incident" to throw a wrench in things.  Small and simple things can bring about great good, and small and simple things can destroy.

As I have been remembering this journey, all the steps that were taken, the highs and the lows, it has been quite revealing to me.  I read through my journal entries and am absolutely amazed at how in love with him I was.  Just 10 days before the entry where I decided I needed to re-evaluate my feelings for him, I wrote this:

June 11, 2005
Have I told you lately just how much I really do love him? Well... sometimes it's hard to put into words.  I begin to think about it and I just feel so overwhelmed by it all.  I am amazed at how much of my heart is tied up with his....

I love that I can talk to him about anything and everything and I don't feel awkward.  I love that he lets me love him.... I love that I am not lonely when I am with him.

And then just a few days later:

June 14, 2005
I've never been more comfortable with someone.  I just can't get over how good we re together and this warm - sometimes overwhelming- feeling of love that I have in my heart for him.  I just love him completely.

I was surprised and pleased to see how much positive I had written about him.  About our relationship.  About how completely head over heels I was for this guy.  This guy that was good and great and wonderful.  This guy that made me feel like a million bucks. 

I also know that I did not write everything.  That's the problem with a "Mormon" journal sometimes.  We have this audience in our heads consisting of our posterity.  Though they don't exist yet we still write to them sometimes.  We still leave some of the ugly things out because "would you want your children to know about this?"

So I have many wonderful journal entries about my husband to be.  And as I look back it really was awesome.  Awesome.  But I also know there were some ugly times that I did not write about.  Times that I didn't really want to remember as I looked back on our story.  Times when I cried to him on the phone after he had confessed to slipping up.  Times when I was so discouraged that he was not doing better.  Times when I thought his love for me should be greater than this problem.  I remember thinking "Can you please just think for 2 seconds before you do something stupid!?!  Why can't you stop this?  Is it really so easy to forget all that you are working for in exchange for a moments 'pleasure'?  Don't you realize this is keeping you back? Us back?"  I sometimes wanted to scream it at him.  Sometimes I did.  Well I didn't really scream it at him, but I did speak rather forcefully and with tears.

They aren't fun times to remember, but they are important times to remember.  I couldn't always be the peppy cheerleader ready to forgive anything for the greater good.  I just couldn't.  It would have been at the expense of myself.  I had to let my feelings be known to him.  I had to let him know that it wasn't just about him and that what he was doing was actually hurting me as well.  My heart, my feelings, my ability to love him wholly.  My husband has a very tender heart which I am eternally grateful for.  It almost hurts him more when he thinks he's hurt me.  He can deal with disappointing himself but not me.  Especially when we were dating.  We still had those rose colored glasses on at times.  And really it took us long enough to find each other, neither one of us wanted to throw our relationship away.

So we stuck it out.  I helped him anyway I could.  Whether it was a peppy cheerleader, a shoulder to cry on, or a verbal slap in the face, I was there for him.

David proposed to me on July 10, 2005.  It was a surprise.  We had been working with his bishop towards this goal.  We had talked dates.  We had a ring chosen out.  I just didn't know when he would be able to go back to the temple.  I thought we were a few months out, maybe longer.

He proposed on a Sunday afternoon.  We went for a drive in my home town.  He pulled off to the side of the road and after a series of not so serious questions, he asked me to marry him.  I cried and said yes.

On July 31, 2005 David got his temple recommend back.  I wrote: Woo-Hoo!! This has been the goal the whole time we have been dating and today he's got it.  We are going to the temple this Tuesday.  I am so very proud of him.  He cried and I was on the verge.  What a beautiful day!

We were married on September 3, 2005 in the Logan Utah temple.  We were surrounded by family and friends.  We spent the day on cloud nine and enjoyed as much or more than any couple ever did. 

And then we lived happily ever after.  Temptation free.  Smooth sailing.  No troubles after that.  After all, we had conquered the ugly pornography beast, right?  It's gone right?  Weren't we great!  Nothing but blue skies from here on out.  At least for a little while.

Chapter 2: Dating

I shared his secret.   The secret that you don't want anyone to know.  The kind of secret that invites judgment.  The kind that makes relationships fizzle out in a matter of seconds.  The kind that he hoped he would never have to share with me.

I stayed.  Not because I'm some sort of superwoman or martyr or anything really.  I stayed because I was in love with this person.  I stayed because I could not reconcile the information he told me with the person I knew.  When we first met, way back in 1999, he was the guy that made good thought provoking comments in Sunday School.  The guy that had such kindness in his eyes.  The guy that would have melted my butter all that long time ago had the stars been aligned and had either one of us been where we needed to be in order to get together. 

As I dated him and came to know him better I liked what I saw.  I felt so comfortable around him.  So at ease in conversation and mannerisms.  He was possibly the only person I dated that I didn't feel inadequate around.  I was comfortable in my own body.  I didn't even question it at all.  We could talk about anything and we did.  Past relationships.  Things we've learned over the years.  Stupid things we've done.  He laughed at my jokes and I laughed at his.  We couldn't seem to get enough of each other.  Everything that I knew about him said "this is a good person".  Pornography addict never even entered my mind.  It would have never entered my mind voluntarily at all.

He thought he could get it taken care of himself.  He thought he could recover on his own and that I would never have to know his dirty little secret.  He was ashamed.  Ashamed at his own inadequacies, his own lack of will power, his weakness, his selfishness, and all the other ugly words that come in that downward spiral of self-loathing after an incident.  He didn't deserve me.  He was worthless and hopeless. 

That's the state of mind I found him in on that Monday night when I wouldn't take "go away" for an answer.  The downward spiral.  I didn't know the terms for it then though.  I just found him depressed and not at all himself.  This was in November as far as I can tell.  I have begun scouring my journals so I can give accurate information on how I was feeling about all of this at the time.  Unfortunately I didn't write about it.  What I wrote about is how much I loved him.  How good we were together.  How much fun we had.

Part of it was my naivety.  I didn't actually know the extent of his addiction.  I remember being frustrated when he'd confess that he's messed up.  He was meeting regularly with is bishop and that was good.  We had been counseled together by his bishop and I agreed to be his "safety net".  Meaning that if there was temptation coming on that he could call me anytime 24/7 and I would help.  We started reading scriptures together every night before going to bed, whether in person or on the phone.  I was investing what I could.  If we followed the formula for a perfect life then we'd be fine right?

I wish it were that simple.  Go to Church + Read scriptures daily + pray daily + exercise + eat right = happy temptation free life.  It never is though is it.  They are definitely part of the solution, but what about all that time you aren't in church?  When your nose isn't buried in the scriptures?

I used to get so angry when he's mess up and confess to me.  Well not at first.  At first I was the epitome of perfect encouragement. 

"I'm so sorry!  You can do it though.  You can get through this.  Call your bishop.  Get back on the path.  Put up more pictures of us, of the temple the things that are important to you!  Rah rah sis boom bah!" 

Then after the 5th or 6th time my cheering was not quite so enthusiastic.

"Seriously?!  Didn't that happen last time?  What were you thinking?  Didn't the picture of us and the temple on your computer screen even make a dent?  Rah rah, boo, grr, roar!  I'm sorry.  Did you call the bishop?"

His bishop suggested counseling for real.  You know, therapy.  With a doctor.  His therapist wanted me to go with him so I did.  At least for awhile.  It was May 2005.  I was ridiculously uncomfortable and kind of wanted to wear a hat and dark sunglasses so that no one would recognize me as I went into the building.  This is the only journal entry I have about it:

May 15, 2005
I have also started going to his counseling appointments with him.  He is seeing a wonderful counselor that his helping him take the necessary steps to get rid of his addiction.  It was weird being there at first, but it got better.  It will be a good thing for me to go with him.

It was a good thing.  I knew the steps that he was supposed to take.  More importantly I got a inside view (well as inside as I could get) at what was going on in the brain that made pornography so addicting.  I knew that habits needed to be changed, and more importantly thought processes needed to be re-routed in the brain in order for things to change effectively.  I knew the "addiction cycle" and what happens to him emotionally when he falls.  I found out that I could ask him how he's doing and support him by having someone besides himself that he is accountable to. 

I also found out that I can't do it for him.  That as much as I wanted things to clean up, as much as I wanted to literally slap this stupid addiction out of him, as much as I poured out all of my good energy hoping it would help him get over it... it wouldn't.  It could help motivate him for awhile, but not if he didn't want it as well.

June 21, 2005 Tuesday
This week has been interesting.  A time of re-evaluation.  I guess it's time I came clean about a few things in my life.... So my future posterity, be prepared for a shock.  [The man I'm dating] is battling pornography.  That is why it is taking him so long to propose to me.  I know that he still wants to propose to me, but this last few days have been harder for me to handle than I ever thought it would.

I went home for Father's Day as well as Friday night and Saturday day.  He called me on Sunday and confessed that he had slipped more than he had told me and that he had lied to me about going running a couple of Friday's ago.  I was hurt and mad and frustrated.  My mom could tell that something was up so we went on a walk and she guessed and I told.  I couldn't not tell her.  I have kept it inside for so very long and the only person I could talk to about it was [him] and that just doesn't help at all.  So I told her everything that I could and felt would help her understand the situation and my dilemma.

My dilemma or decision was to re-decide if [he] is right for me or not.  Are we just living a lie?  Do we want to get married but really it just isn't right? And does he really love me or just the support I give to him.

I'm finding it easier to back away now.  I'm not going to his meetings with the psychologist anymore  I think he can do it himself in that aspect.  I think he'll be more honest if I'm not there.  He doesn't want to hurt me and frankly I don't want to hear the words that they use.

I feel like [he] needs to be more responsible for his actions.  And I think I need to figure out why I love him.  I need to have a solid foundation to stand on or else I might just fall off.... I want to remember why I like him.

I need to remember why I like him.  Still.

Starting at the Beginning

We were dating.

We'd been dating for just over 3 months.  We liked each other. A lot.  We talked on the phone every night.  I loved his voice.  Deep and rich.  It was bliss for my ears.  It had taken us awhile to find each other and even though he wasn't sure where things were headed, I was.

Before he came into my life for real, I had given up on the whole "finding a mate" thing.  I was pretty happy to stop getting my heart broken and more than happy to stop breaking hearts.  It wasn't fun and I was done.  I had declared my freedom from the dating world and it felt good.  I was 28.

Then he came into my life.  For real this time.  I knew him from a previous ward.  It was years ago.  Like 5 years ago.  I always thought he was handsome.  He never seemed interested.  Things change.  We gain experience, some of our edges are worn down.  We start to see things as they are.  We started talking one night and kept on talking.  We laughed with each other, sometimes till we had to stop and lay down for fear we would fall down.  We had so much fun together.

Three months into this dating thing I went to the temple.  I was by myself.  I looked around the room and saw couples there.  Couples of all shapes and all sizes and that's when I really knew that I wanted to be with him.  Not just now but for forever.  It felt good and I felt at peace.

We went out that evening and had a glorious time filled with food, friends, and lots and lots of laughter.  We held hands, we hugged goodbye.  Tightly.  Lingering.  That was a Friday night.

Saturday, I didn't hear from him.

Sunday, I didn't hear from him.  I got worried.  I sent a text and heard nothing back.

Monday was also filled with silence and I was confused.  Confused because we had such a good time.  Confused at the silence.  Confused because we didn't ever go a day let alone several without talking to each other.  What was going on?

On Monday evening I was headed to family home evening with the singles ward and opted to swing by his house to see if he was there.  To see if everything was okay.  His light was on but he wouldn't answer the door.  I called him while knocking and told him I wasn't leaving until he talked to me.

He answered the door.  He looked terrible.  Not physically but emotionally terrible.  He let me in, mostly because I wouldn't take no for an answer.  I asked him what was going on.  Told him I was confused, I thought we had had a good time.  He said there were some things that he needed to get in order before we could get serious with each other.  I asked him what it was.  He didn't want to tell me.

As we sat in his living room I wracked my brain to come up with anything that I could think if that he would need to get in order?  He was engaged before, was there baggage from that?  Did he have financial difficulties?  Everything that I could think of just seemed so small and insignificant.  When I tried to pin bigger things onto him, like drugs or alcohol or abuse, it just seemed so ridiculous.  It just was not him.  

I asked him to tell me what was happening.  He said he didn't want to scare me, that he didn't want to drive me away.  I said I doubted he could say anything that would scare me and I promised him that I would not go away.  And I meant it.  I knew what I had felt in the temple just a few days before.  I knew that I wanted to be with this man.  I knew that he was a good man.

He told me he had a pornography problem.  That was the last thing that I expected to come out of his mouth.  The last.  He started to cry and I wrapped my arms around him while he wept.  Giving comfort while trying to process this bit of new and life altering information.

The Lord has a way of preparing us for what is going to be happening in our lives.  I'm pretty sure that if I had not had that experience in the temple that very weekend, I would have made a different decision.  I would have broken things off.  Instead I knew what I felt and I knew that I loved this man.  I know now that God was helping me see my husband to be through His eyes.

I hate pornography.  I hate what it does to me, to my husband, to our family.  I hate that I have to deal with it after 8 years of marriage. I hate that I will always have to be careful about so many things.  I hate that there is rarely a home that hasn't been touched by it.  I hate that it makes itself seem so big, so important, so impossible to overcome.

I love that it is not the end.  That it can be kept in check.  That it does not define who we are because we are so much more than this addiction.  

This is the beginning of my story.  My life married to someone with a pornography problem.  I will tell more of the story later, but for now, this is enough.