The Addiction Parable.....

Allow me to begin this post by explaining that I cannot take any credit for the content of this post. So much of this comes from my therapist and I want to make sure credit is given where it is due. His name is Bob and I have known him for years. He is excellent at what he does, prompted by the spirit, able to quote scripture and conference talks, challenges irrational thinking, repeats teaching things he has taught hundreds of times before, and is steadfast and immovable. I call him an eternal optimist. I only wish everyone could have such a positive influence in their corner.

He is amazing at parables. Bob has a gift to share a twist on perspective by the parables/stories he tells. They are realistic, down to earth and very relatable. It is with his permission that I share 'The Addiction Parable.'

It was a couple of months ago that I walked into his office and made myself at home like I usually do. I began by giving a report of where I was, the progress (or in this case.......regress) that I made. He shook his head knowingly. This is not the first relapse I've tried to navigate. His name is Bob and he is a master addictions counselor. He knows, perhaps more than any other, the foundational irrational thought process from which addictions form and persist.

He asks if I've ever been water skiing before. I nod my head and reply with a half-hearted laugh that I've made the attempt. He continues by reminding me that water skiing is made of 3 separate steps. The first part is about being IN the water. You ensure your life jacket is on tightly. You put the ski's on. You grab the rope. All the while, you are IN the water.
The third part is about being UP ON the water. It is the feeling of success. It is where you can gain more skill and talent. It is knowing that you figured out what it takes for you to be UP ON the water.
Then he pauses for a moment.......and backs up.
The second part is when you've signaled for the driver of the boat to go for it. You are holding onto the rope for dear life, being drug thru water that is as thick as cement, trying not to drown let alone swallow (or inhale) any of the water, trying to force your legs up to be on top of the cement..........all while trying to breathe.

Another pause.......before the ensuing explanation and discussion of each of the three steps. The third step is a given. That is what recovery is like. There is a sense of satisfaction, the practice it takes to get there, the skill it takes to stay there, and the sheer knowledge that you did it. The first step is being fully engulfed IN the addiction, actively participating IN the behavior. It is a step of treading water to try to maintain survival. The longer your in the water, the more tired you become. If you do not have a life jacket (or support system) your resources and be spent quickly.
The second step is the war. It is doing what it takes to stick with it and hold on. Doing what it takes includes going to my therapist and dietitian. It includes touching base with my accountability team and being honest to them. It includes working the steps and trusting in the process. It is reaching out asking for help as needed as opposed to falling into the trap of withdrawal and isolation, in which secrets and sickness persist.

This parable rung true to me. It made perfect sense. I share it with you in hopes that you may in turn, share it with others. I really hope it can be used as a tool to help those who do not have much experience with addictions or addictive behaviors, be able to have a different perspective to see (in a small glimpse) what the battles are like.



Thank You for reading.

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Tender Mercies

This last week, amongst the chaos this week was, I took my daughter to get a violin because she has expressed an interest in orchestra. As I opportunity I had to do this with her, it struck a memory for me.

Please allow me to share with you.

A couple of weeks ago, I took my kids to Salt Lake City for our traditional 'hoopla' back to school trip. It is tradition for us to take care of some business and include back to school shopping as well as play as much and as hard as we can as a celebratory "ITS BEEN GREAT!" farewell to summer.
This time was no different.

We were able to attend the Ogden Temple open house, to marvel and feel the spirit of another House of the Lord before its dedication. More than anything, I was struck with the artwork that now resides there. I was not lucky enough to get the details about it I was hoping for, but I pray that it will be shown to me sooner than later.
We spent time across the street at the Treehouse Children's Museum. The kids had a great time with that.
Of course there was more shopping than I'd like to admit, but we did get it all done. It is amazing that something I save so long for can be gone in a matter of hours.
Because we ended up staying on a Sunday, we were privileged to attend "Music & the Spoken Word" in the Conference Center. I have heard the tabernacle choir many times on CD or mp3 player, but those touching renditions pale in comparison to the experience of listening to them in person. It was our first time attending "Music & the Spoken Word" and we thoroughly enjoyed it. On the particular day we attended, the orchestra was also there and playing. My daughter would later tell me that it was this experience where she gained a desire to be part of an orchestra, and that she wanted to play the violin. We walked around temple square some, even going inside the tabernacle as I tried to explain to my children that 'Once upon a time, before the conference center was........the tabernacle was the only place to hold General Conference'.  I'm not sure they fully understood, but they wanted me to share their most favorite story about the tabernacle, so I did my best.
We then proceeded to the South Visitors Center. As we walked in, on a large screen they were playing various "I am a Mormon" clips. I'm sure they do that frequently, but the one they were playing the moment we walked in, stopped me in my tracks.

Perhaps it was the part where Lindsey talks about her core beliefs about having worth because she is a daughter of God.......that struck me more than anything else we did on that trip.
I've heard it said that a coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous, but the timing that this particular clip at the very moment I walked in was more than a coincidence......This was a tender mercy. (Did you notice she's playing a violin?)

Thank You Lindsey Sterling! You have two new fans in our household! !

When 20,760 isn't enough......

Let me just start by saying that I previously have learned the theory behind compulsive obsessive disorder or OCD. I've learned that it is a mechanism used to lessen anxiety, a ritualistic behavior that may help one feel in control. I remember in treatment, how many others had OCD as a co-diagnosis.......that they would hold groups for those with OCD. I did not attend those groups because they did not pertain to me.

Now lets fast forward 2+ years to today.

I have a widget on my phone that acts as a pedometer, counting my steps as I go about my day. When I first discovered this widget, I thought if it as nothing more than something fun to look at, kinda like scrolling thru my Facebook page. I tried it out for a little bit, and eventually found it to be fairly accurate in its data collection.
I'm all for goals. So when this amazing feature of technology told me that I should try to get 10,000 steps every day, I didn't argue. At first, I didn't do so great with it. However, as time has gone on, getting those 10,000 steps everyday became more of a priority. Even going out to get my 'mileage' in after the kids had gone to bed and the sun had long since set. In the last couple of weeks, the compulsion to get as many steps in as possible has elevated into its own kind of demon. It wasn't very long ago that I was walking as much and as fast as I could before the clock changed to midnight, which would move the pedometer back to zero. Before I knew it, that's exactly what had happened. I looked to find that I had only accomplished a mere 9,637 steps. To say that I was disappointed, would be an understatement. I'm sure the fit I threw may have resembled that of a 3 year old who didn't get what they wanted.
I have heard in recovery circles, the idea of excessive exercise. I have questioned what that may have meant because how can you have too much exercise, how can you ever have too much of something so healthy?

Tonight, I have the answer. It becomes impeding when a substance, a behavior, a routine, a mechanism of control becomes its own addiction. I have become addicted to my 'mileage.' I cannot go to bed without getting it in. I cannot even consider giving it up. I know that I take more steps than what the widget on the smart phone may say.......after all, I'm still on the move while the phone is charging up. The compulsion comes in when the number on my widget, trumps anything else. When it takes precedence over time with my kids or taking care of any other essential and needful things, I am slowly beginning to be able to realized that there might be something to be said about the old adage. "Moderation in All things!!
Tonight, I went to go get my mileage in. when I began, my pedometer read 6,832. I heard the voice that told me that this would be quick and painless. But as I continued to do my laps, I felt that compulsion to keep going. Just one more lap, just one more lap.......Isn't that interesting how the adversary works. Just a little more.....just a little more. It reminds me of some scriptures:

From :
Alma 37:6
Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

I remember being taught that that scripture was about the good, uplifting, positive things like all of the typical Sunday school answers. I am finding it to be true about the good and the bad.

I continued on in doing my laps and found myself pleading with Father above to help me not go all night. I was able to call it done after 2,0760 steps.
Even with this new record, I still do not feel as though I've done enough.

Does anyone have any tips about getting past the compulsions?
What have you found to be most effective?


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Your body is not your masterpiece

Tonight, I just wanted to share a post that a friend had shared with me. I appreciate a change in perspective whenever someone else is willing to share because I hope that the more clearly I can see, the better off I'll be.



Your body is not your masterpiece – your life is.....

http://momastery.com/blog/2014/07/06/body-masterpiece/

"Would you please come check on me?"

Allow me to share an experience that happened during this last week.....

As is frequently the case on days I work, my kids called to tell me good night, because they usually climb into bed before I get home. On this particular night, I didn't get to answer my phone in time and my kids left me a voice mail.
I LOVE voicemail. It give me a chance to capture and save sweet messages of the funny things my kids say, those who call to express care and concern, tender messages of gratitude, encouragement and cheering, and in one particular case, the priceless gift of listening to a friends voice who has passed from this life due to cancer.
On the evening for which I'm sharing, it was a message from my daughter. I could hear in her voice that she had had a tough day. Her message was a simple but powerful one. She summed it up by sweetly asking, "Would you please come check on me?"
It does not happen very often, but on occasion, the Spirit will allow me a glimpse of how my relationship as a mom, can help me in my relationship with my Heavenly Father. This is one of those occasions.
I've been struggling with my prayers lately......saying them at all. Struggling in this relapse, feeling guilty about not doing better, for not pulling up and out of it by now.....where in ED leaves me feeling unworthy to pray, which adds to the isolation thus promoting the downward spiral. However, I do feel Fathers encouragement for me to 'check-in' with him......just as I would imagine I would do with my children, if I noticed one of them were struggling. It's during times like this where my prayers (when I utter them) are more sincere, more heartfelt, with a bit more pleading. I remember during a previous relapse simply pleading with Heavenly Father, that he might hold on to me, because I was not confident in my strength to hold onto him.

And so it is tonight. While I feel as though asking for so many things from Heaven above might seem an act of selfishness, (another trait ED teaches to put me down), my prayer tonight is a simple although seemingly inconsequential one.....
Heavenly Father "Would you please come check on me?"

Pushing against the rock.....

I first came across this story while I was serving my mission. I thought that it was a great story then. However, for some reason now, it seems that much more applicable and poignant to me.
Perhaps we are not to move the rock, but to learn what we can while we push against it.

 

 



Pushing Against The Rock

By Anonymous

 

There was a man who was asleep one night in his cabin when suddenly his room was filled with light and the Savior appeared.  The Lord told him he had a work for him to do, and showed him a large rock, explaining that he was to push against that rock with all of his might.  This the man did, and for many days he toiled from sunup to sundown; his shoulder set squarely against the cold massive surface of the rock pushing with all his might.  Each night the man returned to his cabin sore and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain.

Seeing that the man was showing signs of discouragement, Satan decided to enter the picture - placing thoughts in the man's mind, such as "Why kill yourself over this, you're never going to move it," or "Boy, you've been at it a long time and you haven't even scratched the surface," etc. - giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was an unworthy servant because he wasn't moving the massive stone.

These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man and he started to ease up in his efforts.  "Why kill myself?' he thought.  "I'll just put in my time, putting forth just the minimum of effort and that will be good enough."  And that he did, or at least planned on doing until one day he decided to take his troubles to the Lord.  "Lord," he said, "I have labored hard and long in your service, putting forth all my strength to do that which you have asked of me.  Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock half a millimeter.  What is wrong?  Why am I failing?"

To this the Lord responded compassionately, "My friend...when long ago I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you to push against the rock with all our strength, and that you have done.  But never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it.  At least not by yourself.  Your task was to push and now you come to me, your strength spent, thinking that you have failed and ready to quit.  But is that really so?  Look at yourself.  Your arms are strong and muscled.  Your hands are calloused from constant pressure and your legs have become massive and hard.

Through opposition you have grown much and your ability now far surpasses that which you used to have.  Yet still, you haven't succeeded in moving the rock; and you come to me now with a heavy heart and your strength spent.  I, my friend will move the rock.  Your calling was to be obedient and to push, and to exercise your faith and trust in my wisdom...and this you have done.

Jesus will always be loving you.

A couple of weeks ago, I went out to the movies.......(NOT a kids movie).......by myself. The day had left me slightly wounded and I wanted to do something to put myself back together. So I went to the late night showing of "Mom's Night Out." (Not to worry. My kids are of the age to watch themselves when they are a wake, although it is a bit safer to leave them when they are asleep. Not to mention their excitement to use the phone whenever there is the slightest excuse.)

I have become somewhat accustomed to going to movies by myself, so it was not awkward for me to go in, paying my way then finding a seat wherever I wanted to sit. The movie began and I found myself hooked to the storyline, laughing at what the main character (Allyson) and I had in common. I found it to be just a fun movie.....up until one particular scene.

Allow me to give some background.

Allyson (played by Sarah Drew) goes on a "Mom's Night Out" with some friends from her church. Somehow in a tangled mess, they cross paths with Bones (played by Trace Adkins) a guy from a biker gang who works in a tattoo parlor. It is a bit of an oxymoron to see them all together. Anyhow.....there is a scene as most of the women from this group end up in jail. Allyson and Bones are sitting together as Allyson begins to lament about how she feels about herself.

Allyson: "I am a failure. I have failed again. That's all I do. I had a plan. I was going to help myself and help my friends unplug and have fun........and instead.........  I can't, I can't get in front of it. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give, I just......am not enough."

Bones: "For who?

Allyson: "What?"

Bones: "Not enough for who?"

Allyson: "I mean......Sean, the kids, my mother, God, everybody, I don't know."

Bones: "You? Not enough for you."
             
"I was raised in church. This might surprise you but I have since drifted from the faith. My momma worked three jobs, I never met my daddy. I had to get up early and walk to school but I'd wait up for her.....coming home from the diner. I'd wait up every night, cuz she'd come home and put me to bed, and she'd tell me something. She'd tell me the same thing every night. 'He loves you Charles, no matter who you are, no matter what you do or how far you run, Jesus will always be loving you with his arms open wide just for being you.' And I'd smile and go off to sleep......
You know I saw something on Pinterest the other day. It was an eagle, just caring for its young. Its a beautiful thing to watch one of Gods creations just doing what he made it to do.....just being an eagle. And that's enough. Ya'll spend so much time beating yourselves up, it must be exhausting. Let me tell you something girl. I doubt the good Lord made a mistake giving your kiddos the momma he did. So you just be.....you. He'll take care of the rest."



I guess one of the reasons I thought this was so insightful was because of my current circumstances, this scene could have played out in my own life. I have admitted (a little bit ago) to falling to relapse. I was telling my dietitian about it when she stopped me and said, "So......your not doing relapse the right way?"

I was silent.

She was right. Not realizing it, what I had described was that I was relapsing the wrong way (if that makes any sense). That I was not relapsing well enough, or at least that is what the ED in my head was telling me. This was new to me. In any previous relapse, I do not remember ED telling me the extent by which I needed to carry out behaviors. Now he had, and to that set of standards, I was not enough. I know logically this is asinine. However, I'm yet to see addictions or mental illness adhere to a specific rigid criteria.

In our house, we have a couple of buckets. We have our "Love Buckets" and we have our "Patience Buckets." We rate them on a scale, giving it a number by which we can let each other know if we are getting low on a particular bucket. (0 is the lowest, 10 is the most.) The one we seem to have talked about the most lately is our "Patience Bucket." It is a common occurrence (especially after I'm finishing a 12 hour day at work) for the kids to ask me "How much patience do you have left?" usually followed by a comedic "Did you give all of your patience to your patients?"
Lately my kids have helped me realize that I hardly ever have any patience, even first thing in the morning. This helps me recognize that my alexithymia is getting in the way. So I've been trying to figure out what to do about it. I've been taught that the first step is awareness, so now that I recognize that my patience is gone, what can I do about it? Of course it makes sense to me to go to the one who knows me better that I can possibly understand myself and I ask him, the Creator of us all. After a little bit of time, at a time when I can best understand, the Sprit nudges me with the answer. During a time of relapse, while I have been restricting food, I have also been restricting emotion.
In other words? I think I might be in need of a good cry.

The parable with this is to think of a pressure cooker. After time, heat, stress, pressure (along with life's circumstances), the pressure cooker needs a valve by which to release steam. If there is no controlled way to release steam, the pressure inside have no other alternative than to cause a bit of  an explosion, damaging whatever (or whoever) is in its path. (I'm pretty sure that parable came from my counselor, so I can't take credit for it.)
I need to release some steam so as to more effectively fill my "Patience Bucket." I don't ever remember seeing the need to have a valve to release while still trying to fill something up.......(something I'm going to have to continue to think through.)

I'm not very good at releasing or crying, although being aware of this now could help me know that I need to practice 'feeling' more.

Does anyone else struggle with FEELING emotions? How do you effectively cope?

What I do know is that I want to buy one of my new favorite movies!

....."For the Lord seeth not as a man seeth".....

 

....."For the Lord seeth not as a man seeth".....

1st Samuel 16:7

 

The Storm before the Calm.

I know many photographers, several of them personally. I am amazed at the ability of one to capture an emotion or a feeling in a simple moment that now, because of our digital age, can become a permanent record.......almost like its own kind of journal entry.

There is one photographer in particular I'd like to tell you about. His name is Clark Little and his artwork in photography comes to us from Hawaii. Clark's pictures are a combination of water, light, motion, and sky. To me, some of them are nothing more that visually stimulating photographs which capture your attention with color and patterns. However, there is one that perhaps we can all relate to, as it demands you to look closer.

This is my most favorite of the hundreds of photos I've seen from Clark Little. I believe it is one that we can all relate to.
Notice that the sky is a beautiful blue. Only a few white "cotton ball-like" clouds. The sun is out and the beach looks gorgeous.
However, there is something here, caught in a split second in time, that is going to happen to the person who is trying to brace for what is coming. Perhaps, because of experience, they know how to prepare. Perhaps this happens daily. Maybe their feet are in the sand deep enough to be sure footed, grounded or even anchored to where they are.

Maybe not.

Have you heard of the phrase "The calm before the storm?" It refers to a period of time that is stable, predictable, or uneventful as far as life's circumstances go. It may come when you notice that life is going along so well, nothing bad has happened, no inconveniences of life have fallen upon you.

The phrase that seem more compatible with my life is "The storm before the calm." This is when life is tumultuous, busy, overwhelming, where multiple inconveniences happen, usually one after another. It is a storm by all definitions, even to the point where you may feel like you are drowning.
When I reach "The storm before the calm" moments and those around me ask me how I'm doing, sometimes all I can muster in my pretending to be optimistic is a simple, "I'm just riding the wave." I'm trying to stay with my surfboard, I'm trying to keep my head above water and when I get too tired, I do my best to tread the water as best as I can. Sometime I reach out for my lifesavers, those in my life found to be trustworthy, to help me float along until I am able to swim again.

I remember some rip-currents in life where my simple prayer to Father above has been a pleading for him to hold on to me, because I was not confident in the strength in my arms to hold on to him.

In Matthew 14, as we learn about Christ walking on the water, do we notice that he didn't walk when the water was calm? In verse 24 we are told that the ship was "tossed with waves" because the "wind was contrary." The apostles where having a "Storm before the Calm" moment. Then Christ, after reassuring them of who he was, invited Peter to.....Come (vs. 29). After Peter saw that the winds where "boisterous" (although I'm sure he knew what the winds were like, he probably remembered after he took his focus off of Christ, and began to pay more attention to the storm around him) he began to sink and pleaded for Christ to save him. In verse 31, it describes the action as "immediately." Then the verbal reply from the Savior, "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"
To some, this might be a rebuke. To me, it is a reminder of how I myself feel sometimes. Almost instantaneously, I hear myself reply the same as what the father in Mark 9:24 felt.

"And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief....."
If your reply is similar to that, and you are in the "Storm before the Calm" moment, please remember Elder J. Holland's comforting message:

If you are lonely, please know you can find comfort. If you are discouraged, please know you can find hope. If you are poor in spirit, please know you can be strengthened. If you feel you are broken, please know you can be mended.

"The heart is not so easily changed, although the head can be persuaded.".......

I've been 'nudged' to write for the last couple of days, but I'm not entirely sure what to write. I'm not sure how to say where I nor am I confident that I can put a cohesive cognitive thought together. If nothing else, perhaps I can show faith by putting forth this attempt.

Yes, I'm still at odds with my circumstances in relapse. ED has been trying to tell me that because I am in relapse that I need to follow a whole slew of his rules; that there is a caloric intake limit, that there has to be a standard at which I exercise, and that my mind has to devote a certain amount of time spent is self-loathing. If I don't do all these things, that I couldn't technically consider myself in relapse. I know full well that the majority of you reading this cannot make sense of the mental illness associated with eating disorders, but perhaps you can relate to the skewed thinking associated with mental illness in general. I remember learning from a previous relapse that the longer your down, the harder it is to get back up. So of course it would make sense to not stay down too long.........right?

Now, let me take a moment to explain (in case you didn't know already) that simply eating is not the cure. If you know someone who struggles with this and you see them eat, do not dismiss them as 'recovered.' Can you see it as encouraging? Yes. Is that one time the end? By no means. This is a disorder of the mind, that can commonly have physical repercussions. Any physical cue that something is out of line is only secondary to what is going on in the thought process.

My therapist has recently introduced the idea of doing our own IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) where I promise and commit to doing certain things on a regular basis in addition to making and keeping regular appointments with my dietician, my therapist plus being held accountable on a daily basis to a member of an accountability team. The incentive in all of this would be that if I didn't keep my commitments, I would in turn end up back inside an impatient treatment center like where I've been before.

I have started to get nudges in what or how to go about doing this. (I do not live in a metropolitan area that already have a IOP set up in the community.) I'm yet to make a commitment on the starting date or to make any commitments of any sort........yet. I'm having a hard time changing my heart. I'm finding myself reluctant, because I do want the scale to be lower than what it is now, and I'm trying to figure out how to force my mind to switch that; to tell my mind that its not that important.

 

I'm not at that point yet. I'm *almost* wishing for something to happen or to cross my path that would scare me just enough for me to make a course correction, for me to change my heart.

 As stated in the movie "Frozen,"

the wise elder troll, Pabbie informs us that "The heart is not so easily changed,

but the head can be persuaded."
.

“Can you mend it, Carpenter?”

The Carpenter in Nazareth

 

In Nazareth, the narrow road,

That tires the feet and steals the breath,

Passes the place where once abode

The Carpenter of Nazareth.

And up and down the dusty way

The village folk would often wend;

And on the bench, beside Him, lay

Their broken things for Him to mend.

The maiden with the doll she broke,

The woman with the broken chair,

The man with broken plough, or yoke,

Said, “Can you mend it, Carpenter?” 

 

          And each received the thing he sought,          

In yoke, or plough, or chair, or doll;

The broken thing which each had brought

Returned again a perfect whole.

So, up the hill the long years through,

With heavy step and wistful eye,

The burdened souls their way pursue,

Uttering each the plaintive cry:

“O Carpenter of Nazareth,

This heart, that’s broken past repair,

This life, that’s shattered nigh to death,

Oh, can You mend them, Carpenter?”

And by His kind and ready hand,

His own sweet life is woven through

Our broken lives, until they stand

A New Creation—“all things new.”

“The shattered [substance] of [the] heart,

Desire, ambition, hope, and faith,

Mould Thou into the perfect part,

O, Carpenter of Nazareth!”

Lapse and Relapse

In my line of work as a nurse, I see the varying spectrum. There are those who come in to the clinic with a whole slew of maladies. Cough, sore throat, head congestion, chest congestion, fever, chills, earaches or whatever else may ail them. Do these warrant treatment? Yes, they do. I don't dispute that. However, I hold a special place in my heart for those who've been trying to overcome their illness for 2-3 hours. They tried the Sudafed and it just didn't work, so they come seeking something stronger, something more.

Now in contrast......another group of patients I hold a special place in my heart for. They are those who come in with chest pain, that seems to radiate down their left arm, goes thru to their back, they are feeling a little nauseated and exerting themselves seems to make it worse. In some cases, this has been going on for days. Of course I shake my head slightly because those are pretty classic signs of a heart attack, something where immediate treatment at an ER is required. But they remain in the room, rationalizing to themselves and to me, that they are "not that bad" or "not that sick," that if they could just get something for their heartburn, they would be just fine.

Despite additional encouragement and on occasion, the threat of an ambulance to come and help them get where they need to go, some remain......shocked, surprised, even dumbfounded that I have suggested such a thing. Again, they are convinced that "its not that bad." Some are fearful that if they were to follow up in an ER and everything turned out to be normal, that others (probably of whom, don't even know them) would look down upon them or think less of them. Not many consider the other side of that coin, what would happen if it was serious and neglected.

As I've thought about it, I've almost concluded that it might be our human, fallible nature. If there is a simple fix, why not do that? If the answer is that taking antibiotics for a week or two will cure it....Why not!?! However, if its necessary to do more, work harder, (like cut out saturated fats and include aerobic exercise) we are simply less likely to do it. Or perhaps showing our vulnerability will keep us from doing the right thing or the more healthy thing like showing up to an ER and say the words, "Chest Pain"......

That being said, let me share some definitions according to Merriam-Webster's Dictionary.

lapse

 noun \ˈlaps\

: an occurrence in which you fail to think or act in the usual or proper way for a brief time and make a mistake

relapse

noun \ri-ˈlaps, ˈrē-ˌ\

: the return of an illness after a period of improvement

I would be willing to define lapse to myself as an honest mistake and forget to take my son to scouts or to accidentally take a wrong turn on my way grocery shopping. It is for a brief time.
Now can I tell you what I LOVE about the definition of relapse. I don't like the term 'relapse' in and of itself, but I so appreciate how it says "return of an illness". That exactly what addiction is. It is an illness, it is a disease. I remember commenting to others of a period of 'remission' from my disorder. It would then only make sense, that when ED roars his putrid head, I slip, I stumble and because of this fallen state.....I fall. I usually land on my knees, pleading by means of Jesus Christ, who made it possible for me to have 'remission' from sin when I was baptized. It is also possible every Sunday when those covenants are renewed.
So in my own vulnerability and being reluctant, I admit I am in relapse. I am experiencing a "return of an illness." Unfortunately, this one cannot be taken care of with antibiotics. Its remedy is not found in a pill or injection. It is found (like for most all addictions) in overcoming the natural and fallen man, and getting back up. It is found in a "broken heart and contrite spirit" (3rd Nephi 9:20) It is found in him who "is mighty to save" (Mark 6:5)
Now I share this in hopes of others who may be close to where I am, perhaps reasoning that "its not that bad" or that you can "stop anytime I want"....... I smile, only because I feel the spirit nudge me with the sense of:

"Spoken like a true addict."

So now its my turn to quit being the nurse, time to work as a patient. Time for me to listen to those who can see better than I, those who have knowledge and training in how to work thru what I need to work thru.

Please join me on my journey and my fight to 'remission.'

The Great Encourager

I really don't spend much time watching TV. I really don't have much time for it. However, a couple of weeks ago, I ended up in the living room.......with the TV on.......watching "Dancing With The Stars." Sometimes, its kinda fun to watch only because my kids like to pretend they are professional ballroom dancers and they dance with each other, trying to mimic what they see. However, on this particular night, there was something completely different.......SOMEONE completely different.

Her name is Amy Purdy and when she was 19 years old, she contracted Bacterial Meningitis and had to have both of her legs amputated from just below the knee. She has gone on to be a motivational speaker, a co-founder of a business, Para-Olympic medalist, and now is on "Dancing With The Stars." I was amazed that she was dancing, and that she was doing it so well.
One of the first questions to come to my mind was, "How did she know she could snowboard? How did she know she could dance? How did she know?"
When we are first learning how to walk, I would dare say that there was someone there to encourage us. I'm guessing that someone prodded us to try 'just one more time.' I would dare say that when we learned how to ride a bike, someone was there to hold on to the back of our seat, holding us up, running behind us until they let go, and away we went.
My point is, what do you do when you've never been encouraged or told that you can do something? How did Amy know that she could dance?

 

As I thought about it for the next couple of days, a very obvious answer kept coming back to mind. How did she know she could do it? She tried. She was willing to see what would happen, if she were willing to put herself out there and try. I would also venture to say that she has someone supporting her, encouraging her, perhaps Derek can even teach her or together they learn how this can be pulled off.

 

I have found myself dealing with more pot holes in my road than what I am comfortable with as of late, but feel the nudge of what I believe to be the spirit, guide me to some paths that have not been walked before. I find me asking myself, "How do I know I can do this? How do I know that I can really pull this off?" And even tonight as I am writing this post, I feel as if to wonder if the Spirit, who is also known by such titles as "The Holy Ghost, The Light of Christ, The Still Small Voice, or The Comforter" may also be known as "The Great Encourager."

 



“Treat a man as he is and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he can and should be and he will become as he can and should be.” Stephen R. Covey

An Addiction Recovery Program Conference

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we have an addiction recovery manual and program set up in the likeness of the original 12 steps established from AA. It is (appropriately named) The Addiction Recovery Program or ARP to shorten it. Well not far from where I live, they have a conference once a year with speakers to help inspire and encourage recovery as a whole. This weekend was the conference. It was fantastic. I don't want to compare it to General Conference because they are each so important for what they each do. Each one in its own right, is amazing.
I was able to attend classes about "The Biology of Addiction" (which just happened to be taught by the same man that I took an Anatomy and Physiology class from),  "Food: Friend or Foe" & a class about "Trust and Forgiveness." All of this was then followed up by a meeting this evening to hear from some men who have been thru the 12 steps in their own lives as recovering alcoholics and drug addicts who now facilitate rehab treatment centers.

It was reassuring to be amongst those who struggle, who have taken a step towards looking at God, and being willing to admit that mistakes have been made, but also willing to work the 12 steps in order to do what it takes to be sober for another 24.....taking it just one day at a time. I really appreciated in one workshop, the teacher stood and remarked that although he had taught hundreds of times the material he was teaching us, for some reason it felt different being with us. I knew exactly what he meant.

I'm not sure how many ARP meeting I've been to. Nor can I tell you how many times, I have sat in on an ARP meeting and have felt the spirit of God come upon me. It really is such a profound experience. Sitting there at a meeting to share that you have made a mistake, perhaps a little bit about your mistake without sharing all the finer points of your addiction. And then you feel it. The spirit.

I remember struggling with that at first. I had been taught that if you mess up, if you make a mistake that the spirit can no longer dwell with you. Yet here was that familiar feeling. At times, feeling the spirit can be so strong, there is no denying that feeling or what is going on. It was at the meeting tonight that helped me put the pieces together. He simply and poignantly explained the addiction or addictive behavior as an illness.....a disease of sorts. Weakness is not the same as a sin. Our fallibilities, our mortal time, our need to practice some things over and over and over and over and over again are not for punishment. They are for our growth and development. Why can't the spirit be with me if I'm sick, if I'm fighting a disease? He can.

The spirit has been in many ARP meetings, sometimes a stronger presence than what I feel at church at times. The classes yesterday and the gathering this evening are a testament to that. Although we are broken people, and we have broken lives, we are also willing to show up and risk the chance of being noticed &/judged. But we also have broken hearts and contrite spirits. Perhaps the Lord loves broken things. Perhaps he knows those who are striving to know him. And perhaps (as Elder Jeffrey R. Holland explained).....that surely the thing God enjoys most about being God is the thrill of being merciful, especially to those who don’t expect it and often feel they don’t deserve it.

What struck this memory today?

Believe it or not, I have a hard time writing. I find it to be a challenge and time taking. I question the benefit and struggle most times to find the words that are adequate enough to convey where I am, what I want to share, or to teach what others may want/need to know.
I want to preface this post by admitting that writing is hard.

With that being said, I want to share with you something I remembered today from treatment. The foundational part of homework I had while in treatment was to write. (Did you see that one coming!?!) One of the first things we needed to do was to write our life story; what life was like as a child, what we could remember, what our 'favorites' were and ultimately how we had gotten to know ED.....how we had gotten to the point where we were all there in treatment. It was an opportunity to be open, frightenly honest, blatantly candid, to open up every can of worms we had crossed paths with on our lives journey thus far.
After our story was written, we would share it with our therapist. We would review the contents together in a session before we would have to share it in group. In group, we would read our story, then leave ourselves vulnerable to the comments and questions of others in group. Thinking back on it now, I can reflect on how insurmountable writing my story seemed. In fact, I feel as though I may have "copped-out" on it, only because I ended up cutting and pasting my journal to come up with my story. I vaguely remember sharing it in group, being utterly petrified of what others would think of me (although I hardly knew any of them) how they would feel about me, what they would say or how they would react. I would later come to understand that most all of us would have similar themes in our live stories that had led us to be together at that moment in time.
What struck this memory today?
I've been asked to re-visit some of my life history. I recently had a counseling session with my ex-husband. I walked in hoping to help my ex-husband gain closure. I walked out with the homework assignment to simply list barriers or hurts that we still had, that kept us from having a healthy relationship. Don't misunderstand. We have been very amicable during our 4 years of divorce. And while I have believed that I had somehow forgiven and moved on, I am now having to face the possibility that I haven't. I am open to this suggestion because I know I cannot entirely trust myself, although that story is for another post. I try to calm myself by trying to remember that I am not to list every little minor and major detail of what or how things went awry. I am not to play judge and jury to my list. I am not to decide what happens as a result of my list. I am to merely list barrier and hurts. That is all. Keep it simple. Will part B) and part C) or part D) happen? I'm sure it will. My part (for now) is part A. I will admit that I am in fear of the can of worms this assignment will cause me to open. Be still my heart......for now its only part A.
I am sure that it is by no mistake that this homework comes to me at the same time we contemplate the Easter Holiday that takes place this weekend. The holiday that helps Heavenly Fathers fallible children remember to stop and look inside empty Easter eggs, to remember the empty tomb. The holiday that helps us remember that Spring is a time for new beginnings. The holiday that teaches hope.

Boundaries....

My parents and I have a difficult relationship.

I am the single mom of three crazy peeps. I love them to the moon and back, they are my world. But (un)fortunately, I am in that population of moms that have to work to provide for them. I work about 45 minutes away from where I live and so much of the time, when I work my 12 hours shifts, my peeps stay with my parents. Don't get me wrong. I am thankful for my parents. The only way I've been able to make it for the last 4 years since being divorced was because of my parents. I was able to go back to school and make it possible to be a healthcare professional. My parents are wonderful people......but I struggle with them.

It was my mother, who took me to a counselor (before I was divorced or had a major lapse with my eating disorder) wherein she told me that I was an "incompetent mother." I have to tell you.....that is something that I still haven't gotten over. I still feel as though I have that hanging over my head. To her, I never measure up, I'm never good enough nor will I ever be. There is always something lacking in her perspective of me. My home is never clean enough, my kids hair is hardly ever done the 'right' way, I apparently never have good enough clothes for them (even though they get a new wardrobe before school every fall) because she is always giving them more clothes.

One painful strike happened while I was in treatment. I'll preface this by saying that yes......I know they meant well and probably thought in their minds that they were only helping. But one day while I was in treatment, they came into my house (which was in shambles, because I had been in a crisis mode, doing everything to keep myself alive long enough to get to treatment) and re-arranged and cleaned my house. And when I say clean, I mean they changed the light fixture in the bathroom (although I have NO idea why!?!?!) and put pink vinyl hearts all over my daughters bedroom.
In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, there is a firmly held belief that families can be together forever, that the family bounds can held even after this life, which I do still hold to be true. However, having gone thru a divorce, the term "Families can be Together Forever" albeit true, can kinda be a sore spot for some, me included. Although this concept had been explained to my mom, there was still in vinyl in one of my kids' room with that saying on their wall. Although I had turned the heat off when I left, they had turned it on while they were there and never turned it back down. I got to pay for the same amount in the power bill that I would have had if I were at home.

Its hard for me to say that my perspective is wrong, because it is mine. That is what I see to be true. Those are the glasses which I look thru. At treatment I learned that its called Atelophobia, The fear of imperfection. So my perspective is that I am not good enough, I am not fast enough, I am not strong enough, I am not tall enough, I am not pretty enough, I am not THIN enough.......because I am incompetent. These are the foundational principles of my eating disorder. That somehow if I can be faster, stronger, taller, prettier, thinner...........that that will equal being competent or good enough. If in turn you've been taught that asking for help is admitting weakness, admitting defeat, How often would you ask for help? Its been quite awhile since I've had home teachers or visiting teachers, (people in our congregation asked to help look out for one another) in my home. Its either because of trust issues, I feel as though I would be weak if I asked for help, or because if I let you into my home, you would see that I'm not good enough.

My mother and I went to counseling for a little bit when I first got home from treatment and she has been doing alright up until about 2 weeks ago. Now, I'm not sure if its my awareness to what has been going on, because I'm able to recognize it more quickly due to the (arduous) practice that I've been blessed with or because of something else to which I'm not aware. She has been doing things that are over-stepping her boundaries. She will not respect my wishes regarding my peeps. She has been over-assuming responsibilities of my peeps. It is really upsetting. Multiple examples in the last 2 weeks could be told, but what it comes down to is how I react to what is going on. Do I react by trying reaffirm control by participating in my eating disorder? Do I hold on to the techniques I've been taught to "ride the wave" until I'm in a safer, more stable place?

Either way, I come and I type unanimously, knowing IF anyone ever reads this, that perhaps it can give pause and reflection to their relationships with those close around.

No, I don't mean for you to fix me. Only the Savior and his Atonement can do that. I am writing to make you aware of your boundaries. Do you respect the boundaries of those around you? Is there someone in your neighborhood, in any group for which you are related , benefit from knowing that sometimes they cannot ask for help or let you into their home because they are afraid of how you will judge them? That perhaps with sincere love, endurance and indeed long suffering, they simply know your phone number and you've talked to them enough to know that if you do need anything, they will know how to call.

Truth.

The only time in my life that I wrote daily was while I was on my mission. That was quite a while ago. I've thought of doing that again, not really as a method of record keeping but perhaps more of an outlet for me to share my story and for me to learn what recovery means to me. Whether I will really do this daily or not remains to be seen. Even I'm interested to see where that may lead.
Tonight it is raining. A gentle pouring to wash away what was today. By no means did I accomplish anything I wanted to today. On the epic list of  "To Do's," I would hope that it may be said that I did what was most important vs. what was most urgent.
I took my daughter to the Women's Broadcast. She seemed to enjoy it. While there where many well rehearsed things that were said, the most touching parts for me, came from the music. The opening song was Hymn #264 "Hark, All Ye Nations!" The line that struck me (although I've heard this song a bazillion times before) was just before the chorus in the first verse, "Truth is restored again!"
I'm sure its no coincidence that in the closing song, Hymn #243, "Let Us All Press On," the last line in the third verse also points to the same concept as it closes, "And prosper the cause of truth."
It is about the principle of truth. The principle by which my therapist tirelessly tries to lead me back to only because it is a faulty, unstable foundation that my belief system is held one. The same unstable cracking foundation (that I'm guessing) most all addictive behavior stems from. My therapist call them F.I.S.H.......Faulty Information Still Honored. Those things, no matter how illogical or flat our untrue that for what ever reason, we still hold them in such high regard that we have built our foundations upon them. If you've spent much time in primary, you know what happens to the many who builds his house upon the sand, and what happens to the man who builds his house upon the rock. I have a feeling that his rock was our Savior, Jesus Christ. I have a feeling that rocks only stay solid upon principles of truth.

Finding my voice.

Here I am.....again.....still. I have now been home from rehab just over two years. I did make one of those crazy promises to Heavenly Father as I left, that if I promised not to purge anymore, that perhaps he would give me a voice. Of course, I was thinking of a voice meaning the singing kind. It was while I was in treatment that I would sing on occasion and for the first time ever in my life I got  complimented on my voice. How wonderful that would be to have the empowering gift of music.
While I've been home and more than once the thought has struck me that perhaps it wasn't the gift of music kinda voice that I could share, but perhaps sharing a story that other might could relate to by which the could be empowered. Now I search for the strength and the courage to share, hopefully even day to day what the battles are like that I hope in time will win the war.
I write under the cover of anonymity by which I hope will encourage me to be that much more open and that much more honest with what I share, so as to not lay out potholes to what is already a dangerous and treacherous road. I will allow for comments although this blog may not be well known for a while so I guess I'm not too worried about what you may have to say now anyhow.

Thank You for joining me on this journey.