The happiest place on Earth

Greetings friends!  Jason and our family just returned from our epic "distraction" trip to California and Mexico.  For the most part, it worked as we'd hoped.  Painful "anniversaries" were quickly passed with little pain as we were so distracted playing and having fun that the dates just sped by without our paying attention.  This was GREAT!  I could have been home rehearsing in my mind the horrors that were happening day to day last December.  I could be stewing in my painful memories as last year at this time I was gradually realizing that my husband's behavior might just point to something far more sinister then I could have imagined.  It was all crashing down last December for the both of us and I was not anxious to relive that in any way.  Instead, we spent those painful days riding rides at Disneyland, eating lots of good food, watching shows and boarding a giant cruise ship to Mexico.  It was heavenly and now that we are home, I find myself marvelling that we are so close to our first "anti-versary" and a church court that will hopefully result in a rebaptism.  Has it really been a full year?

Despite being in the "happiest place on Earth," I did have a full meltdown on our third night there.  It was a doozy and I feel kind of ashamed that it went so far.  (We're talking a rolling around on the ground, screaming, crying, begging for death kind of relapse.)  What triggered it?  It is surprising to me how sensitive I have become to being in public amidst other beautiful women...women that far surpass me in beauty.  Let's face it, Southern California is full of them.  For four days I was walking around a theme park filled with skinny, busty, beautiful young moms with no hair out of place, no fat on their hips and perfect nails and makeup.  It was torture for me!  I came home each night with thoughts like these:  "It's no wonder my husband had an affair or two.  He is married to such an unattractive person.  It's only a matter of time before he realizes it and starts searching for a younger, skinnier, prettier model."  Or, "I wonder if his affair partners looked like these women?  Why on earth would he want to stay with me when he has already proven to himself that he can attract much better looking women?"  Friends, it was torturous.  I won't mention the other thoughts that popped into my  head but those weren't pleasant either.

So, it all came to a gruesome, painful embarrassing head on our third night.  Jason got angry with me, I got angry with me but I just couldn't pull myself from the pain.  Good heavens, will this pain ever go away?  After  a few hours of tense words, we both calmed down and apologized and then restlessly slept.  Thankfully, I didn't have another "episode" for the rest of the trip but I had to really watch myself.  There was a show on our cruise that had some dancers with very revealing costumes.  I forced myself to look away and think of something else.  I hope Jason did the same.  I tried not to "people watch." (a pasttime that I have always enjoyed but I have found lately to not be able to do without having bad, bad thoughts.)

I did have a revelatory experience while on the ship.  We were in a room filled with people and I was feeling small and inadequate.  The thought came to me very clearly, "If you were in this same room full of people and you could strip away these mortal bodies to simply reveal everyone's spirit, the entire room would look to you and marvel at the beauty that is your spirit.  You would stand out as the most beautiful in the room."  I am not sure if this was the Lord talking to me or just me trying to make myself feel better but it worked.  I carried that image around with me for the remainder of the trip.  I think that is true of all of us that are facing immense challenges with faith and testimony.  We are powerful, beautiful souls that are to be admired for what we are enduring and for our grace, courage and strength.

We are Heroes!

I wanted to share this because it touched me so and I don't know who else to share it with but with you good folks...people that "know."  My husband had this poem waiting for me at the office when I got in this morning.  He wrote it for me to remind me that I am his "Hero."  Yeah, many tears may or may not have been shed. :)  Anyway, here it is:

MY HERO:

My choices led to danger
As I was so far off the trail.
One small step to either side
And I would have found myself in hell.

I let myself get pulled in,
My defenses I left down,
Till the mire I was standing in
got so deep, I almost drowned.

I saw my happiness slipping away,
And thought my bondage was complete
As I gave in to my selfishness
And prepared for my defeat.

And at the moment of my total loss,
when I had no right for hope,
That's when you stepped up to the mire
And tossed me out a rope.

A rope you didn't have to throw,
you could have easily turned away,
and left me there to fend for myself,
with my own beast to slay.

Nobody would have judged you,
Not one soul would have questioned why,
if you had simply turned your back
and said a blunt goodbye.

But that was not your impulse,
when you came across this liar.
Instead you dug your heals in,
And you pulled me from the mire.

I don't think you understand
the gift you gave that day.
And now my drowning's turned to healing
Thanks to the price you chose to pay.

You will forever be my hero,
you have chosen to pay the toll
that rescued me from filth
and begun the saving of my soul.

And now the work is mine to do
and the road ahead is still unknown
but I am so grateful you are by my side
And I'm not traveling it alone.

I was so touched by this today.   I instantly thought of you ladies here and what heroes you each are..no matter what your circumstance.  With the Savior's help, you are standing fast in your testimonies, you are strong and determined...even when things seem hard.  You have all helped me so much in my healing and you are all my heroes!

November survival!

November is a month to be grateful right?  I am grateful for so many things but I think the biggest thing I am grateful for is that November is OVER!  To the average reader, that sounds odd to say but you are not average readers.  You know the heartache and triggers that come with anniversaries.

As I have posted before, November of 2013 was when the longest of my husband's affairs began...the one that sent him over the top and finally forced a full disclosure.  I have tread very lightly this month, trying to do things very differently than last.  I still felt those triggery thoughts from time to time as the air got cold, the mornings and afternoons turned dark and Thanksgiving approached.  Those simple things sent my heart back to last year's pains and hurts and suspicions.

But, I SURVIVED!  Yes, the tears came a little more readily, the conversations were a little more painful and heated, and the bad memories a little more easy to recall this month.  I knew that would be the case and so did my husband.

For Thanksgiving we decided to not celebrate as we usually do (and as we did last year) and we abandoned all family and traditions and left for the beach.  We live about an hour from the coast and so we rented a house there for just our family.  My in-laws were surprised (we always spend the holidays together) but understanding.  I truly believe that this decision was inspired.  We had an amazing time just "getting out of Dodge."  We leisurely made dinner and ate when we felt like it.  We walked the beach (through a rain storm), and we did a 1000 piece puzzle that took us 3 whole days to complete.  We got fudge at the local fudge shop and shopped for ornaments at the  Christmas store.  All the while, I was rejoicing in the "newness" of it!  I had very few triggers over the Thanksgiving weekend and it was like balm to my soul.

So, now I am facing December..the month when the affair was in overdrive. (And a second one occurred in the middle of the first.)  If you haven't read my husband's story, here is what was going on last year at this time.  My addiction journey part 7  In order for us to face it and not be driven mad by the memories, we are once again getting away.  We are not putting up a tree, we are not sending out cards, we are not baking any holiday goodies.  We are not giving many gifts or attending many Christmas concerts.  I know we sound like a bunch of Scrooges but this year, we had to mix it up.  Instead, we are leaving in two weeks to take our family to Disneyland and then on a four night cruise to Mexico.  Crazy huh?  The money we would have spent on "things" is being spent on memories that will hopefully replace last year's memories of despair and addiction.

We are focusing on the Atonement this year...and rightly so as we have never felt its' power more than we have in 2014.  Once we get back from our trip, we will hit our one year anniversary of D-day and from then on, we can officially say that all of this garbage happened "over a year ago."  That just sounds so nice doesn't it?  By the end of January we hope to reconvene a church court and hopefully have a re-baptism. Good things are happening here, despite the pain that we have felt and still feel.  So, we are celebrating Christ's birth in a different way...and that's okay.  We feel like He has been  leading and guiding our every footstep this year and that this trip was an answer to a very heavy prayer.

With His help, I know we will make it through 2014 with all of it's revelations, surprises, hurts and anniversaries.  And to tell you the truth, the year hasn't been all bad.  We have learned so much and grown so much and had some beautiful moments together as a family. Will I be glad to see 2014 slip into history?  YES!  I will rejoice on New Year's Eve like I have never rejoiced before!  Here's to new beginnings, new friends, new understanding,  new memories and a new year!

Internal scars

(her story)

On Monday night, the missionaries came over for dinner.  As is custom, they gathered our family together afterwards to share a message.  They shared with us a video from the Mormon Channel.  It was about Stephanie Nielson...the woman that survived a plane crash but is left with horrible scarring.

Here is the video link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHDvxPjsm8E

Anyway, I had heard her story before but I hadn't paid much attention to it...until now.  I realized something as I was watching her talk.  Her whole body is covered with horrific scars..the scars that will forever remind her of her accident and the trial and trauma she has experienced.

Despite the scars, she is a bright, vibrant, beautiful woman who has learned so  much from her trial and I bet, given the chance to have it erased and to never have had it happen would probably say "no."  She paid a heavy price to become acquainted with God...a price that in hindsight, she is probably glad of!

As I looked at her, I at first thought, "Well, at least THAT is not your trial!  At least you don't have to walk around with scars and be self conscious of them all the time.   She is certainly made of tougher stuff than you."  But, as I watched the video and thought about how I would handle being a plane crash survivor, I realized that I am no different from Sister Nielson.  

You see, I have survived my own plane crash of sorts.  I have been burned, wounded, ejected from the safety of the plane and left with an incredible amount of scars.  The only difference for me is that my scars are on the inside.  No one can see them.  Only those that know of our situation even know that they are there.  These scars I carry cause me no less distress than hers do.  They are a constant reminder of my trauma and of the greatest trial to come into my life.

There are days when I am hurting so badly and I just want to scream to others..."Can't you see my scars?  Can't you see how much I hurt?"  But they can't.  Those scars are on the inside and most days I do a pretty good job of hiding them. 

Here is what I took away from her story.  Her scars and the damage that was done to her have become a conduit for a better relationship with her Heavenly Father, an increase of testimony, a source of strength and an opportunity to help others.  I WANT THAT!  I hope I am acheiving that.  I am trying to acheive that.  So far, my relationship with my Father in Heaven and my Savior is stronger.  There have been undeniable times when I have felt them physically step in and lift my weight.  I have an increased testimony of the healing power of the Atonement to rescue not only the sinner but the sinned against.  I feel stronger for my scars though I know there is a lot of strengthening that needs to be done as more time passes. Finally, we have been able to reach out to members of our ward and have come across five other couples going through the same addiction.  (Only one has led to adultery like my husband's addiction did...thank goodness.)  We drive all of these couples to our 12 step meeting an hour away once a week.  So, I do feel like we are using our trial to help others.  I hope when my husband's priesthood is restored, we can do more.

The final thought that I had when I watched her amazing story was wondering what she would think of the trial that I am going through.  Would she read through my story of heartache and betrayal and think "I'll keep my own trial.  I would never want to go through that!"  I fully believe that our trials are not random.  I think the Lord knows what kind of adversity we need to endure in order for us to become who we need to become.  For her, it was a plane crash.  For me it was adultery and excommunication.  Would we want to trade trials, assuming that the other's trial would be easier?  Probably not.  

Anniversaries, triggers, reminders and change

(her story)

I am in tough territory right now.  Starting with the end of October, I was officially in "anniversary" time.  You see, last year at this time, my husband was deeply involved in an affair.  It started on-line in October and began physically on November 1st.  To say that I am suffering is an understatement.  I thought I could walk into these months with my head held high and courageously face them with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.  After all, I have had ten months of healing right?  It has proven more difficult than I'd anticipated....in fact, at times, it's torturous.

Every thing we do is a reminder.  I went to Stake Conference on Saturday night for the adult session and was painfully reminded that last year at this time, my husband was standing up at the podium, giving the talk of his life as a member of the Stake Presidency, while, at the same time, having an extramarital affair.  I was so proud of him that night.  His talk was incredible.  How did he do that?  How could he mask the sin and guilt and betrayal?  (I hesitate to mention this because I don't want you sisters or brethren to questions your leaders' worthiness.  I think my husband's story is hopefully a unique circumstance.  Most of our stake leaders are NOT hiding a secret addiction or extramarital affair...at least I hope not.)

Every morning as I take my kids to seminary, I am reminded that last year my husband would tell me he was dropping the girls off at the church and then going to the gym.  Instead, he would go and endulge in his addiction.  The darkness, the rain....it all reminds me of last year and it brings back the ache.

I went to Time Out for Women this year, like I did last year. It is 2 hours north and last year, my husband stayed home and watched the kids.   I knew it was going to be a tough experience as I was going to constantly be reflecting on the fact that last year, unknown to me, my husband was communicating with his affair partner while I was out of town.  So, this year, when the opportunity came up for my husband to take a quick weekend trip to California with his brother in law, I told him to please go!  I could make arrangements for babysitters while I was gone.  For some reason, I just knew that not having him anywhere near where he was last year (in fact, in a completely different state) would  help me to not dwell on what he was doing last year  at this same time.  It worked and I had a relatively peaceful weekend with few worries or triggers.

So, we have a lot of November left as we anxiously await the "anti-versary" in January.  We have decided that instead of having a Thanksgiving dinner in town this year (like last year which brings up many painful memories as I was beginning to have some serious suspicions by then), we are going to rent a house and have Thanksgiving as a family far away from home and triggers. 

This year seems to be completely different and I feel the need to keep it that way.  This year I have an attentive, loving husband who is not constantly on his phone or hiding in the bathroom.  He is open with me and he listens to me when I cry..even though it is intensely painful for him.  He is home when he says he will be home and he ALWAYS answers his phone when I call.  When he knows I am having a nervous day, he offers to take one of our kids with him when he runs errands, just to put my  mind at ease.  Yes, things feel different.  

I know that with the passage of time, especially these months, the pain I feel with those memories will lessen.  I know that as we reach January and my husband gets rebaptized, the pain will decrease even more.  But until then, I have to survive these two very difficult months.  For me, that means completely changing our memories and abandoning our traditions so they in no way resemble last year.  Good idea?  Bad idea?  Who cares.  It feels right to me.

I feel broken. Will I ever heal?

A dear brother struggling with addiction like the rest of us asked me a question about feeling broken.  So, I responded to his question in my "Dear Addi" blog.  Feel free to read!

http://dearaddict.blogspot.com/2014/10/dear-addi-i-am-completely-broken-by-my.html

Worth less than a dog

What do you do when your extended family lets you down?  What do you do when the information that was supposed to stay private gets spread throughout the family by your mother in law?  How do you prevent yourself from feeling worthless as those family members then ignore you or even worse, belittle you when you turn to them for help?

Since my husband's disclosure I have felt the immense weight of so many burdens being hoisted onto my back.  I have carried those around for almost ten months now, hoping to shed a few as time goes on.  One of the burdens that I carry is the guilt of knowing that I am stretched so thin mentally, physically and emotionally that I am not giving my best efforts to those that are the most important in my life...myself, my husband, my children.  I have had to redouble my efforts to be a good mom and wife, despite my gloom and despair.  The one member of our family that I have not been able to make time for is our dog.  She is a great dog who we love but who has become terribly neglected in the last ten months.  (She is still healthy and fit, she just doesn't get the time and love that she used to.)  I carry that burden of guilt around with me every time I come home from work to see her lonely face.

My brother in law and sister in law breed these dogs and they sold her to us seven years ago.  When my mother in law disclosed our situation to them (without our permission and against our wishes) they told her that if we ever needed help with the dog, to just call.  Well, the time had finally come for me to call on them for help.  I needed them to take her for a while or perhaps even help us find a new family for her that could give her the time she deserves.  I was hoping that with the knowledge that they had been given of our situation, they would be compassionate and race in to help.

Instead, in a phone call last night, we got yelled at and abused.  We were called "children" for not being able to handle the responsibility of having a dog.  We were told in not so nice terms that we were terrible dog owners (even though we have shown this dog great care for six of the seven years) and that they would never have given this dog to us in the first place if they had known what horrible owners we were going to be.  My sister in law has never liked my husband and, just like we feared, she saw his mistakes as license to punish and judge.  Oh, how I wish my mother in law had kept her mouth shut.

Anyway, while I listened to the screaming match over the phone, I started to wail.  That now all too familiar weariness began to set in and the burdens that I was carrying got even heavier.  I felt betrayed.  I came to my family for some help,  remembering that they had professed to promise aide whenever we needed it, and instead was made to feel like I was less important than a dog.  I am so tired of the people that I love making me feel that way.

Why do family members do that?  Why is this kind of disclosure a license to look down upon or belittle?  Why do family members suddenly feel like it would be too awkward to reach out and help so instead, they stay silent?  This trial is so incredibly lonely.  I feel like it's my husband and me against the world and I really can't count on too many other people...at least not the ones I am related to.