Trust

I haven't posted much lately. It's hard to know which experiences are appropriate to share - what might be helpful to someone else that is not too personal or too unique to my own experience. And life has been slowly, steadily moving forward. Some days I still feel the undeniable suffocation of this difficult experience, but other days feel almost normal or at least tolerable. I never thought I would feel that way again, so even the glimpses are so refreshing and revitalizing to my soul.

I have experienced for the first time in my life the power of anxiety and panic. It has hit me at such unexpected moments that I almost feel wary of any situation that has induced that panic in the past few months. I have felt a considerable disconnect from my former self and have found myself longing for the days when I felt so sure of myself, confident and could move forward without hesitation.

I started seeing a counselor a couple of months ago. I was really struggling and didn't know what else to do. I feel Heavenly Father led me directly to this individual. I had never seen a counselor before and was very nervous and wary of seeking this help, but it has been a wonderful, healing gift of insight for me. My counselor asked me a question yesterday that has consumed my thought process since and given me insight into my feelings of being disconnected from myself. She asked, "Do you trust your own judgment?"

As soon as she asked the question, tears welled up in my eyes and I realized that since the discovery of my husband's addiction I, for the first time in my life, did not trust my own judgment. How could I, after choosing unknowingly to marry an addict and being completely unaware of his problems for so many, many years? I realized that upon discovering his problems and learning particularly of the longevity and depth of the deception, my ability to trust myself dissipated.

I have had to rely steadily and heavily on the insight and inspiration of the Spirit. I have turned often to righteous Priesthood leaders for guidance, seeking their counsel to always be confirmed to me by the Spirit. My trust in Heavenly Father has been my ONLY constant.

I hadn't realized why I was paralyzed by grocery shopping, why I no longer have desire to shop or make new friends or be around my old friends. I hadn't been able to pinpoint the feelings of anxiety and panic. My trust in myself disappeared along with my trust in my husband.

So I keep wondering, pondering and asking myself, how do I get that back? How do I learn how to not only hear and honor the voice of the Spirit, but to hear and honor MY voice? How do I regain the sense of self confidence I always had? How do I walk in a world I used to see as beautiful which I now see as filled with temptation?

Maybe the first step is the realization that not only does my trust in my husband need to be restored, but my trust in myself. How I hope and pray that the Atonement can really heal ALL wounds and injuries. How I long for that healing. How I miss myself.

Depression

Depression is a stage of the grief process.

It is exhausting, encompassing and overwhelmingly discouraging.

It feels like it will last forever.

It is not, however, meant to be a permanent state of being.

If it feels like it has become that, seek outside help.

It's okay.

Can I Go There Today?

As life is slowly making its way back to some sense of normalcy, I find it harder and harder to allow myself to go to the depths of sorrow and sorting through required for ultimate healing. I struggle to know how to go from sobbing uncontrollably to picking up my little one from preschool, so some days I just don't go there even when I need to. It doesn't go away, though. The emotions can't be ignored or put off or stuffed away. They find a way to come out somehow - at times that are often less than opportune.

I'm learning that I have to give myself permission to heal, including the time and energy to do it. I'm having to eliminate any extra burdens, obligations, appointments, & stresses in my life so that I can focus on myself and my healing. I struggle to not feel guilty about it, especially since I'm not able to give explanations, but I'm learning to be much more compassionate and much less judgmental of myself and of others. You never know what burdens others are really carrying.

Leaving Egypt

I used to wonder why the Israelites complained after their miraculous rescue from Egypt by the prophet Moses. I couldn't imagine how they would question God or Moses' word after all they had done for them. But I understand now.

I can picture them, having left the slavery of Egypt, having witnessed the plagues and passover and knowing God had provided the way for them to leave. They had hope in the promised land - one they would obtain after leaving the deserts of Egypt. They left in faith, following their prophet, heading anxiously towards the promised land. When suddenly they realize they are being followed - vigorously pursued by pharoah's guards intent on killing them. As they rush forward they are faced not with a path to freedom, but with the vast Red Sea. No boats. No bridge. No escape. Relentlessly chased by violent warriors. Is it any wonder they questioned? Is it any surprise they wanted to go back? I wonder if they could even see off in the horizon their distant land of Egypt. Surely they thought it would be better to go back and be slaves to a pharoah than to perish a bloody death or drown in the depths of the sea. Some of them likely had never even known a different life than slavery. If they went back, surely they could continue as they always had, despite all that had transpired.

All they had was the word of a prophet and the promise of God. Each of those people had to decide for themselves if that was enough. There must have been a pre-miraculous moment of decision, the time that required the ultimate faith of each of them before Moses lifted his staff. They surely couldn't have foreseen or imagined the undeniable witness of God's power that was about to occur before their eyes. They each had to decide whether to rush to the guards and plead for mercy or rush into the water and rely on faith. Faith that God would deliver them, faith that their promised land would be given them, faith that the words of a living prophet would be fulfilled, faith that moving forward - however insurmountable the path ahead seemed - would be better than going back.

"Some days we will be miraculously led out of Egypt - seemingly free, seemingly on our way - only to come to yet another confrontation, like all that water lying before us. At those times we must resist the temptation to panic and give up. At those times fear will be the strongest of the adversary's weapons against us."

" ' And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord. ... The Lord shall fight for you.' In confirmation the great Jehovah said to Moses, 'Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward.' "

"...After you have gotten the message, after you have paid the price to feel His love and hear the word of the Lord, go forward. Don't fear, don't vacillate, don't quibble, don't whine. You may, like Alma going to Ammonihah, have to find a route that leads an unusual way, but that is exactly what the Lord is doing here for the children of Israel. Nobody had ever crossed the Red Sea this way, but so what? There's always a first time. With the spirit of revelation, dismiss your fears and wade in with both feet. In the words of Joseph Smith, 'Brethren [and sisters], shall we not go on in so great a cause? Go forward and not backward. Courage, brethren; and on, on to the victory!' "

(Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "Cast Not Away Therefore Your Confidence, BYU Devotional, March 2, 1999.)

Cottage or Palace?

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of — throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” C.S. Lewis

Limping

"You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.

Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.

Even those who limp go not backward."

The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran

Denial

I haven't written - anything - for two weeks now. I think I'm in the denial stage of grief. I simply don't want to deal with it anymore. i don't want to talk about it. I don't want to cry about it. I don't want to be mad about it. I just want it to go away. But the thing is, it doesn't. I find myself pushing away all the hurt, deeper and deeper inside so that I just don't have to process it or feel it or manage it for one more minute, in an effort to somehow feel normal again, even for an hour. I am subconsciously or perhaps even consciously avoiding the things that will help. Certain friends, long prayers, diligent scriptures, time alone, temple worship, writing, crying, talking, running, eating, all feel linked now to the sorrow and to the reality that the normal I once knew is never returning.

There are elements of my past life that I am finding myself grateful for losing. My priorities have shifted and realigned in a way that is much more in tune with my family, with God, and with my heart. But in the same breath I can't help but wonder if there couldn't have been an easier way - one that didn't hurt so much. Couldn't the lessons have come softer, sweeter and slower? They almost feel like a punishment of sorts - the bitter medicine of mortality.

I get so tired of pretending that everything is still fine. I'm not fine. I'm still wounded and weary and wondering why all of this was necessary. I'm still waiting for a day when I don't wish for the life that I really never had, but thought for so many years that I did. I keep wondering when I won't feel so lonely, so isolated from my husband who I have relied on in so many ways for so many years. I feel so aleinated from my parents who would be eternally crushed if they had any inkling of my pain. I am in such need of the love and support of my siblings and friends and yet they are completely oblivious to my circumstances.

The sorrow and suffering still linger. No matter how hard I try and push it away, it's still there. I have faith. I have a testimony. I know the Lord can heal me. I just wish it wasn't so hard. I wish it wouldn't take so long. I wish that the depth of the pain would somehow diminish or subside. I wish I knew what kind of a 'normal' to expect or even hope for. I really wish none of this would have ever happened, that I could make it all go away. I wish that I could remember what it feels like to be intensely, completely happy and in love. I miss that feeling desperately.

I miss the sense of sufficient self I have always been blessed with. And perhaps that is the ultimate lesson in this. There is no self without the Savior. There is no hope, no healing, no life, no lessons, no perspective, no restoration without Him. I am completely helpless without the hope of Atonement. I cannot imagine feeling like this forever. So I hang onto that silver thread of hope, with the faith that somehow it will lead me through this unimaginable sea of sorrow to a far greater land of promise.