Married ≠ Healed

I've started trying to write this post a handful of times already and never felt right about any of the results. But I'm going to try again because I feel like this is important.

Being married is hard. It's scary and it's amazing and it's frustrating and it's wonderful and it's just really, really hard. And it's really, really worth it, but still really, really hard.

And I think that, in some ways, it's hard for anyone. You are taking two completely different people and putting them together to try to make their own life and family. And that's going to naturally come with ups and downs. There are silly little differences that you never would have thought of that will feel odd for a while. You were raised differently, think differently, and act differently. But at the end of the day, you love each other and learn how to compromise.

But I feel like my marriage has been excruciatingly difficult thus far and I don't know that it's quite like this for your typical newlyweds. In fact, it always seems to me that it's not. I see posts about the sweet things that they do for each other, the thoughtful gifts and gestures, the fun adventures that they're having, and the progress that they're making in their lives and it leaves me feeling... empty.

And obviously I don't know what is happening behind the social media filter, but I still am often left feeling like my marriage is missing so many things that other people seem to have.

You don't see posts about Jonathan and I going on adventures or sweet gestures or anything from us. Partially because I'm awful at taking pictures to make posts, partially because my husband is a very private person, but mostly because they don't happen.

Now before you decide that I must have made a mistake in marrying Jonathan, let me tell you about our lives.

When we got married, we couldn't afford our own apartment. We lived with an amazing family that Jonathan considers to be a second family in their guest bedroom. They were extremely kind and generous towards us, but I absolutely hated living there because they intimidated me. They were everything that I want to be.

The husband worked hard at a good job and the wife, well she was just incredible. She is talented in so, so many ways. She is a fantastic wife and mother, serves others, makes everything from scratch, is passionate about the gospel, etc. And she intimidated me beyond anything. I looked up to her so much that it hurt. Because I felt like I would never, ever get to where she is. She has faced many difficult things and come out a stronger and better person for it. And she tried to help me. She tried to teach me how to be better. I know that she prayed to know how to help me and actively did her best to do so. And she taught me a lot! And I am so grateful for everything that she did for me. But I was also often left feeling like I was never going to measure up to who she was trying to help me to be. And that broke me. And I'm still haunted by those feelings.

And on top of all of that, I also just felt so guilty for how long it was taking us to get out of their house! They were always so kind about us being there and did WAY more for us than I ever would have expected of anyone, but it still felt like we were encroaching on their home and lives. I felt so bad that a huge chunk of their basement was taken up with my belongings. And I felt so bad that their hospitality was so necessary for us. Jonathan was working super hard every single day, so most of the apartment searching and finance keeping was up to me. And I was struggling so much at the time that it was very difficult for me to make much headway at a time, despite hours spent searching for apartments online and calling complex after complex.

You see, I feel that I was extremely blessed over the summer last year. After a year and a half of feeling sick and depressed all the time, I actually felt pretty good! I had some energy, was able to do WAY more than I had been able to in a while, and just felt like things were finally starting to look up for me. I was about to get married to a wonderful man and it seemed that maybe healing was finally happening.

Well, I found out that Heavenly Father put in some hard work sustaining me through the wedding. And then once we got married, my health plummeted again. I was tired ALL THE TIME, nauseous and lightheaded constantly, and just felt generally unwell. I also gained a ton of weight seemingly out of nowhere and all of a sudden weighed more than I ever have before by about 25 pounds, leaving me with major self-image issues.

Compound that with the scariness of moving to a new state where I didn't know anyone, living with people that I just met, with my brand new husband that I really didn't know nearly as well as I had hoped to before marriage, and I pretty thoroughly slumped back down to where I had been before the summer. And in some ways, worse.

Jonathan got back to work and we saved up to get into our own place finally and eventually did at the very beginning of November. We could only afford the down payment because of a grant that literally came out of nowhere that appeared in my bank account. Apparently it was supposed to be for last Spring semester, but never processed. Until right when we needed it most of course!

We moved into our new place in the pouring rain and for the first few weeks we slept on a camp mattress on the floor that was only slightly wider than a twin. We had no furniture, so used the plastic tote that has Jonathan's military clothes in it as a table and sat on the floor.

Jonathan started a new job that same week, and so was then working two jobs as well as his drill weekends once a month for the Marines. He works at one job during the day for the first half of the week, and then a 12 hour night shift during the second.

We were SO happy to be in our own place and I spent the next few days reveling in unpacking our belongings into our own little apartment. It felt SO good to have our own space. To finally unpack all of the things that had been stored in the basement for so long. And I felt a sense of accomplishment in organizing my own little family's home.

We were extremely blessed to have people in the ward come out of the woodwork and find furniture for us to have. I am definitely a firm believer in the power of paying tithing, because we ended up with every single piece of our furniture so far being free. Including a really comfy, massive bed (just so you don't think that we're still on the floor ;) ).

It was definitely nice to start creating our own home.

But.

Jonathan is working more than ever. About 54 hours a week most weeks. And because of how his schedule flip-flops mid-week, it's thrown any kind of sleep schedule that we might have had before completely out the window. Which doesn't help my poor health situation. I keep trying to get into a decent sleep cycle and my body just... won't.

And with Jonathan working so much just so that we can pay our bills and pay off my past medical bills, there isn't much time for anything else. He works so, so hard for our family of two because I can't right now. I still haven't been able to securely hold a job since my ex's arrest. And the way my health has been since we got married, I really don't know when I'll be able to. And so he works two and a half jobs and hardly has time to sleep, let alone any time to unwind.

And in the midst of all of that there's me. I am an incredibly difficult person to be married to. Not because I don't love my husband or because I don't try to be a good wife, but because someone that came before hurt me so deeply that I am still trying to regain my footing over two years later.

And that makes life really, really hard.

Because I'm still not used to my husband being so nice to me. I'm not used to being with someone who loves me deeply, believes in me, is willing to go through hard things with and for me. I'm not used to being put first.

And it feels SO good to have that in my husband. But because I didn't have that with my ex, it's made me very wary.

I didn't know that I was being abused by my ex until after it was over. And so now, I am guarded. I am much more critical of Jonathan than I ever was of my ex because I'm terrified of being abused. My husband is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but he is so perfect for me in so many ways. I need someone who has been through difficult things and so knows how to be patient and loving in the midst of my storms. I need someone who is willing to take me by the hand and gently lead me back to the light. I need someone who is so understanding of my brokenness and sees beauty in it, and so much potential. I need someone who is willing and able to cut up for any slack that I inevitably leave at this time. And Jonathan is all of those things and more.

But he is also a human being. He has his flaws and shortcomings. And he is a VERY different person than me, which absolutely creates moments of hurt and frustration on both sides. We do things very differently and I have needs that he is not equipped to meet right now and he certainly has needs that I am nowhere near equipped to meet at the moment either. And because he works so hard every day, it leaves little to no room for sweet gestures and fun dates, even if he was the type of person to do those things in the first place.

But here's the thing. I know with complete certainty that he is the right person for me and I'll tell you why.

It's not because he is able to fulfill each and every one of my needs with exactness. It's not because he intuitively knows how to help me.

No.

It's because he is committed to doing all that he possibly can to provide for me in the ways that I most need. It's because he wants to be the absolute best for me and is actively striving to become so.

Jonathan often comes home from work absolutely exhausted, but then stays up a few hours more because I am struggling emotionally.

He won't take time for himself until he knows that I'm okay.

He holds me for as long as I need him to and listens as I express frustration at him, myself, and our situation.

And he never makes me feel like I'm not worth doing all of that for.

Where I feel like he should be fed up with me and my issues by now, he continues to love me more and more each and every day. And he wants to be better for me.

It's hard because I am so, so needy right now. I am still struggling physically and mentally more than I can bear. I need him to support me financially because I still can't work a regular job. I need him to support me emotionally when the pain of my ex's actions sets back in, when I feel useless and like I'm never going to progress, when I feel like I don't deserve the love that my husband gives me because I feel that I give him nothing in return but tears and heartache. I need him to support me spiritually as we desperately need God in our lives to help us through our struggles. I need him to basically be Superman. And he is. But he literally can't be in every single way that I need.

After working such long hours at his jobs and spending time making sure that I'm mentally and emotionally stabilized, his tank is empty. There is no more time or energy for him to take me out on dates, think of and execute plans for holidays, or help me to do all that I need to in order to heal.

And so he is doing all that he can and I am desperately trying to do all that I can and we both come up woefully short time and time again.

And so our marriage is incredibly difficult.

But all of the frustration and tears are oh so worth it because it is through my marriage with my sweet husband that I am truly beginning to understand the love that my Savior has for me. Because Jonathan sees me through God's eyes in a way that no one else does. He sees me as a person of value. He truly believes that I am worth every hardship. He sees my potential. And not only that, but he already believes that I am a good wife. He already sees me as amazing. It's not some future thing to him. It's not that I'm going to be so great someday once I'm healed. Once the emotions have been soothed and my physical health is stable. He thinks that I am incredible right now. As I am.

At the exact moment that I feel so incredibly useless and like I'm never going to progress, he looks at me with so much love and sees someone who does everything that she can to the point of exhaustion. He sees someone that is so worth loving and so worth working hard for. I can literally see the love in his eyes and hear it in his voice when he talks to me in the moments that I feel completely miserable and like I'll never have lasting happiness ever again.

And if a human being can look at me the way that Jonathan does, then I know that everything is going to be okay someday. Because if my husband can see so much in me, then the Lord surely sees even more. And if my husband can love me so fully, then the Lord surely loves me even more. And if my husband is willing to sacrifice so much for me, then I can get the teensiest glimpse of the immense sacrifice that the Savior made for me.

If God could create such an amazing human being like Jonathan, one who is so patient, hard working, self-sacrificing, and loving, then I know without a doubt that miracles are real.

If God can take someone as flawed and imperfect as my husband and give him the strength to be married to me, then I know that He must be able to give me the strength to be healed.

Jonathan can't heal me on his own and he doesn't profess to be able to. We both know that it will take professional help as well as lots and lots of help from God before I will be in a good place again.

But being married to someone who loves me so much and is willing to walk through my personal Gethsemane with his hand in mine has put me in the best possible position to finally start to make my way back out.

Being married to an amazing man doesn't mean that I'm healed. But it surely testifies to me that I can be.

Don't Wait

I can think of 5 people off the top of my head that I personally know that have attempted to commit suicide and failed.

I also know two who succeeded.

I know A LOT of porn addicts. I know many who are actively fighting their addictions.

I also know one who ended up in jail.

What I want to talk about here is really important to me. It's one of the biggest reasons that this blog exists.

My friends that attempted suicide didn't get professional help until AFTER the attempt. They got second chances and received the help that they needed because they tried to end they're lives. The other two didn't get that chance.

My ex didn't get professional help for his addiction until AFTER he was arrested. He's getting a second chance, yes, but the road that he's on now will be that much more difficult with a convicted felony on his record.

So this is the message that I need to get out there.

Don't wait.

I know that asking for help is hard (to completely understate it), and I know that you're afraid of what your friends and family will think if you tell them that you're depressed or addicted. I know that during those times, Satan is telling you that you're worthless and that you would only be imposing on your loved ones. Or that they'd be better off without you in their lives. Or that you should be stronger. You should be able to deal with it. Everyone else seems to be handling themselves just fine, so you shouldn't get help either.

With depression, I know that it can be difficult to get out of bed, let alone go on a search for not only a therapist, but one that will meet your needs and match your personality. I know that you are probably struggling to feel loved and to not feel so alone.

With addiction, I know that temptation and relapse can make you feel weak and hopeless. I know that your self-esteem is in the garbage.

Now let me talk to both of you. And really anyone that is struggling with ANYTHING.

I know that you are afraid of what people will think of you. You don't want people to think that you're weak, or broken, or that you can't take care of yourself. You may be afraid that your parents will be angry or disappointed in you. Or that people will start to treat you differently. And honestly, you might be right.

BUT.

Not everyone will. And most of them would rather be "burdened" with your problem now than be happily oblivious until you're in a mental hospital or jail because you didn't tell anyone and then it was too late. How much more pain do you think that they'd be in then? Do you realize that they'll beat themselves up over and over again for not recognizing that you were struggling? Do you know that they will wish that they had known so that they could have been more understanding?

I have had so many moments over the last two years where I have felt that fear over opening up over something. First it was opening up about my ex's arrest. Then it was opening up about just how much I was struggling. Then it was opening up about the abuse that preceded the arrest. Then it was opening up about dealing with PTSD. Most recently it was opening up about my chronic illnesses as well as opening up about the fact that I'm STILL struggling two years later, despite having been surrounded by amazing friends and now being happily married.

I have felt that apprehension over and over again and I've still opened up every single time. And do you want to know why I do that? I put myself through this so that you- you individually, whoever you may be -know that you're not alone. So that you know that there is at least one person in this world that you can turn to. Me.

And you have. So many of you have. And the ones that have have surprised me. You've generally been people that I don't know well. But my blog gave you the courage to reach out to at least one person. And I am so honored that that person was me.

I am so grateful every single time that someone reaches out to me for advice or comfort. Do you want to know why?

You reaching out to me shows me that facing those moments of fear were worth it. You also show me that you don't think of me as weak and broken. You know my story. You know my struggles and my fears. But you don't treat me like I'm a burden on you or like I'm fragile.

On the contrary, in reaching out to me for help, you are telling me that I have worthwhile things to say. You are telling me that despite my struggles, you truly believe that I am capable of helping you with yours.

I've gotta tell you, you are the ones that make this blog worth it. Because if I can help someone to open up and encourage them to get the help that they need before it's too late, then my blog is doing it's job.

And honestly? It's been getting harder and harder for me to open up. Each post that I publish gets less and less views. I start to wonder if I'm really making a difference anymore. But I know that I have to keep writing. Just in case. Just in case you need me. Just in case something that I have yet to say needs to be heard.

I need you to know how important you are. Not only to me who hardly knows you, but to your friends and family, and more especially to God. If I can feel SO much love for you when you reach out, then I cannot even begin to fathom how deeply your Heavenly Father must love you.

Because He loves you WAY more than I do. He loves you regardless of if you can feel it or not. Regardless of if you feel that you deserve His love or not.

And trust me, you ALWAYS deserve to be loved. I don't care who you are or what you've done, or maybe what you haven't done that you feel that you should have. You deserve to be loved. And you are. You are by me and you are by God. And if we love you, then it's a pretty safe bet that others do as well.

Don't ever think that your life isn't a positive influence on someone. Or that it would be more positive than negative if you simply disappeared. No life is so worthless that the end of it would bring more joy to it's loved ones than sorrow.

I understand that reaching out for help is hard. I really, truly do. But I also know that it is 100% worth it.

Don't wait. Don't wait to reach out and open up. Don't wait until you're institutionalized. Don't wait until you're arrested. Don't wait until the point of no return.

Don't wait until you are so depressed that you turn to self-harm. Or until the self-harm becomes a suicide.

Don't wait to get help until after the struggle becomes an addiction. Or until the addiction becomes a crime.

The saying goes that "good things come to those that wait."

This is not one of those times.

I can't say that the response to your opening up will always yield the love and support that you need. I can't say that you won't get bad responses from some people. But I can promise that the people who respond badly aren't the only people out there. There are people who want to help you. I can promise you that because I know of at least three. Me, my husband, and the Lord.

If reaching out is still too scary or seems too hopeless, start with those three and go from there.

Don't wait until I hear that you've been arrested, have self-harmed, become addicted, or committed suicide. I don't want to hear that news. But if you have passed those points, don't wait for things to get worse. I'd rather hear from you that you considered- or even attempted -suicide than hear from your loved ones that that you followed through with it and succeeded.

And to EVERYONE reading this, pay attention to your friends. Two of my friends that attempted suicide and ended up in rehab disappeared from school for a while. Guess who was the only person to check up on them?

I was one of the first people to know when my one friend got home from rehab. We were maybe 14. My mom drove me straight to her house and I hung out with her. I didn't treat her like she was fragile and about to explode. I treated her normally. She went on to graduate high school and marry her high school sweetheart.

My other friend sent an email to a bunch of her friends simply stating "I love you. Know that."

That alone worried me. But when she missed school for the next few days, I called her mom. She told me what had happened and that my friend was in rehab. I called frequently to check in on her mom and ask how she and her daughter were doing. When my friend came back to school, she told me that I was the only person that had called to see what had happened to her. She sent that email to some of her very best friends. But I'm the one that paid attention.

I'm not close with her anymore, but I do know that she is alive. I hope that she is doing well.

I proved to my friends that someone cares. I showed them that it's possible for someone to know your secret struggles and still treat you like a person.

Pay attention to the people around you. I know that you have friends or family members who are fighting secret battles. They may be losing. Don't let them fight alone. Don't let them feel like they have to.

Let me make something very clear though, if someone that you care about commits suicide or a felony or whatever the case may be, know that it is not your fault. Don't waste time blaming yourself; feeling bad that you didn't notice that that person was struggling. Don't wonder if you could have prevented it if only you had _____. Instead, commit to do your best to be observant. Keeping in mind that things may still go wrong even so.

And sometimes, even if you do keep a close eye, even if you do reach out to those around you, even if you do everything that you can to help someone, they might still commit suicide, or continue walking down a dangerous path. I did everything that I possibly, possibly could to help my ex to recover after we broke things off the first time. And yet I still got that knock on my door with the bad news that my ex had confessed.

So please understand, I don't want you to read this post and start blaming yourself for everything that has gone wrong in the lives of your loved ones. I am rather asking that you try to pay attention to those around you, because I can guarantee that there is at least one person in your circle of influence that is seriously struggling with something.

So pay attention, be kind to everyone, give people the benefit of the doubt, assume that people are trying their best with what they've got. Whether they are or not doesn't matter to you.

And if someone comes to you and opens up to you about their battle, remember that who they are didn't change all of a sudden. They are still the person that you love. The only thing that's different is that you know how strong they've been all this time as they have fought hidden battles and still been the awesome person that you care about.

If you think that someone you know may be struggling, don't wait. Don't wait until it's too late to help them. Let them know that you're there. Live in such a way that those around you know that they can turn to you if they are struggling.

This blog was never about me. It's about you. It is literally about me and my life and my experiences. But that's not why I started it and that's not why I keep writing. I write for you.

So whoever you are, whatever you are struggling with, do me a favor and DON'T WAIT.

For Those Who Don't

About a year ago, I wrote my blog series "For Those Who Know" that was addressed specifically towards people who have experienced abuse and/or criminal victimization. The idea for this post is kind of a parody of that series in a sense. I've been thinking about this one for a while, but have been kind of unsure of how to actually put it down in words (sound familiar?).

This post is for those of you that have no blessed idea what it's like to love someone with a sexual addiction. More specifically, it's for those of you with no experience with sexual addiction that are bravely diving into a relationship with someone who has one.

I've actually had the opportunity to talk about this subject quite a bit just over the past couple of months as I've chatted with women in this exact situation.

The first opportunity was when Jonathan and I went to Idaho for our west coast reception. We went to the Addiction Recovery Program (AR or ARP) meetings while we were out there and I got to meet some sweet young ladies that were new to the world of sexual addiction. The second opportunity came when a Facebook friend of mine reached out to me for advice as she had recently started a relationship with a recovering porn addict. And the last opportunity actually came from a good friend of mine that has been fighting addiction since we were barely teenagers who asked me to reach out to his new girlfriend.

These three examples all had some commonalities. One, each of these ladies had absolutely zero previous experience with pornography. They had never had a relative or friend (that they knew of) that had struggled with sexual addiction, so knew basically nothing about it. Two, each one was in a relationship with a recovering addict; meaning someone who is actively seeking help and working on recovery rather than either not caring and/or not doing anything about their struggles.

Okay, now that I've given you a little bit of background, let me see if I can dive in. I think that the easiest way for me to write this would be for me to pretend that you (the reader) is someone who has reached out to me and told me that you've started a relationship with a wonderful young man that is fighting addiction. I'll likely even copy and paste bits of my conversations with the ladies that I spoke to via Facebook, just with some tweaks.

****As per usual, I'm going to write this as if I am talking to a woman dating a recovering addict that is a man. BUT, these same principles apply to any relationship. Women struggle with sexual addiction as well and we would do well not to forget that! They need just as much love and support as male addicts do, and often don't get it because people treat sexual addiction like it's a purely male problem. Every piece of advice that I give applies to any individual- male or female -that cares about any sex addict- male or female. Whether it be a significant other, a friend, a sibling, or any other relationship under the sun.****

My first (and likely most important) piece of advice will always be this:

I need you to know that his addiction has NOTHING to do with you. This is so, so, SO very important to understand.

When he relapses, it's not because you're not pretty enough or not making him happy enough. It's because he is struggling against an addiction that has likely been plaguing him for years. He is fighting extremely hard, but addiction isn't something that's just going to go away. It's a long, hard road of recovery. So always remember that his relapses have absolutely nothing to do with you.

I will always start with this because I know just how hard it is to come to grips with the concept that I am completely separate from the addiction.

Continuing this idea, I need you to know that a relapse is never, ever your fault. I don't know what sorts of precautions you two may have discussed or set up, but (regardless of any of those) no relapse is your fault.

It is SO hard to not constantly worry about him relapsing. But while it's important that you love and support him, you can't let yourself spend all of your time wondering if he's relapsing or calling him to make sure that he's not. Ultimately, whether he relapses or not is up to him and his decisions. Whether he works hard to stay out of bad situations as much as possible or not is up to him.

That's a big thing that I learned from going to AR. A lot of the women there talked about being afraid to even go grocery shopping if that would leave their husband home alone because then he might relapse. But they had to learn that their lives could not revolve around preventing relapses. If he's only sober because you're prevented him from relapsing, then he hasn't really recovered.

It's so easy to worry and SO hard to not want to do something- ANYTHING -to prevent a relapse. But his recovery is ultimately between him and God. He needs your love and support and encouragement, but he also needs you to not become a crutch. So he can keep accountable to you, but you need to remember that there is only so much that you CAN do and really only so much that you SHOULD do anyway.

You cannot "fix" him. And if you don't have that firmly in your mind, there are going to be issues.
(See this post for more on that)

Okay, now that we've talked about you, let's talk about him for a bit.

The first thing that you should know is that every addict is different. That sounds really obvious, but this is important.

Here's why:

I have been engaged to two recovering porn addicts.

The first blamed everything on me and ended up being mentally, emotionally, and sexually abusive. Then he ended up being arrested for hiding cameras in my apartment. Once he could no longer satisfy his addiction with me physically, he resorted to fueling his addiction with me indirectly, through videos.

This is an extreme example of what sexual addiction can do to a person. And while most addicts probably won't go to quite the extremes that my ex did, I do know of many, many cases where the addicted spouse/significant other ended up becoming terribly abusive.

I don't tell you this to make you run away from your relationship, but to make sure that you're getting the full scope of the dangers of sexual addiction.

On the flip-side, let me tell you about my husband.

My husband has also been struggling against sexual addiction for over a decade. And yet he is the polar opposite of my ex.

Jonathan has never, ever made me feel like a bad decision on his part was my fault. He has never made me feel like I'm not good enough. He has never touched me in a way that I wouldn't want to be touched and is always 100%  respectful of my boundaries. And yes, I still have physical boundaries even now that we're married. 

You would think that after my experiences with my ex, I would never even consider dating a recovering addict, let alone marry one. But I know better than that. I know that no two addicts are the same and that while there are plenty of scummy addicts out there, there are also plenty of wonderful ones.

You see, I've been dealing with pornography addiction since I was a teenager. Not that I have personally been struggling with it, but that I have had friends and family that have struggled- and are struggling -with it throughout my life. Because of this, I have gained a very different perspective about addiction than your average young woman. I care deeply about those that I know who are struggling against addiction. And I have watched them struggle for years. I understand (as well as someone outside of the addiction can) how much of a beast this addiction is. 

And I will be forever grateful that the perspective that I gained growing up helped me to give my husband a chance.

So with full understanding of both sides of the coin, I will never, ever tell you to date an addict. But I will also never, ever tell you not to either.

Instead, I'll tell you some things to look out for.

First off, I can already tell you that you are in a better position than I was with my ex simply because you know that your S/O is struggling with sexual addiction. The fact that he has been honest with you about his current struggle is very telling. And then the fact that he is actively seeking to recover is also an extremely good sign.

With that being said, those two things do not guarantee that he is being 100% honest with you. And that's probably the scariest thing about all of this. 

You need to be aware that there could always be something else. But then I would ask you to trust that that's not the case. Unless he is giving you reason for suspicion, trust him. You will never get anywhere in this relationship if you are unwilling to put your trust in him. 

I'm not going to lie, there are still times that I worry about whether Jonathan is being honest when he tells me that he hasn't relapsed at all since we've been married. But not because he has given me absolutely any reason to doubt. That little nagging voice in the back of my head is a by-product of my experience with my ex. And I choose to ignore that voice because I really do trust my husband to tell me if he relapses. I trust him 100%. If I didn't, I wouldn't have married him.

So I would say to be open to spiritual promptings on the matter, but to ignore the nagging voice otherwise. It is only too easy to be afraid and to doubt, but if you are going to be in this relationship, then you need to learn to trust him. If you don't trust him, then you should probably get out of the relationship.

Moving on.

Addiction thrives on secrecy, lies, and half-truths. Recovery is only possible when those things are fought against. 

When we were dating and engaged, I could tell how much it hurt Jonathan to tell me when he had relapsed. And there were a few times when he struggled to tell me everything all at once. He had never really been accountable to someone about it before, let alone someone that he was in love with. But if he didn't tell me something up front, it would eat at him until he did. I remember a few times when he messaged me and told me that he felt like there was more that he needed to tell me, or that he had relapsed and was afraid that he would struggle to tell me everything, so told me right then and there to ask about xyz when we talked about it later. He did everything that he could to fight against the urge to hide things from me. And that meant everything to me.

The very last thing that he wanted to do was hurt me, and he feared that telling me certain details about his relapse would do so. But he also knew that lying to me would hurt me so much more in the end, and so he didn't. And this is where the main distinction between him and my ex lies. Jonathan cared enough about me to be honest. And he knew that he would never be able to recover if he wasn't. 

Continuing this train of thought about telling about relapses, let's talk about what happens when a relapse happens.

He almost certainly feels awful about it. 

One of the biggest things that I've taken away from my experiences with addiction is that the addict hates it more than anyone else. If he is truly trying to recover, then I can assure you that "indulging" in his addiction doesn't feel good. Physically? Yes, there is some literal physical pleasure that occurs. But mentally and emotionally? It's devastating for him.

He will often feel like he's failed. And directly after the relapse, he will very likely feel discouraged to the point of hopelessness. 

I have a friend that I have been working on his recovery with for a while now, and I have seen this effect on him many times. 

He had previously been relapsing daily, often multiple times a day, but had recently been sober for over a month. He had talked to me about how difficult it was being, withdrawal symptoms abounding, temptation around every corner, feeling ready to burst, etc. One day, he told me that he relapsed. And he was completely torn apart by it. He felt like a massive failure and like there was no hope for him.

I told him that I was proud of him.

Not of him relapsing, obviously, but of how long he went before he did. How could he feel like a failure when he had gone from relapsing daily to being sober for over a month?! When was the last time he had gone that long? 

It blew his mind that I could possibly be proud of him. But that's because he was so focused on his "failure" that he was completely missing the fact that he had just stayed sober for the longest that he had in years! That is no small feat! 

I told him that he hadn't failed. He had stumbled, maybe even fallen, but that he hadn't failed. 

You see, addiction is a massive, bloody war. And just like any other war, it is made up of many battles. Each day- sometimes each second -is a battle for an addict. Sometimes they win the battle and don't relapse. Sometimes they lose the battle and do. But that doesn't mean that they have lost the war.

So something that is so, SO very important for an addict, and the loved one of an addict, to understand is that no relapse is the end. 

The very best thing that you can do for a loved one with an addiction is remind them of that. Help them to see that they aren't failing. They aren't fighting an impossible war. Relapse isn't the end unless you decide that it is. And every victory needs to be counted just as much as every loss. Because if they lose sight of those victories, then the failures seem insurmountable. And then it becomes incredibly easy for them to feel that their efforts are fruitless.

Something that you both need to understand is that he is not going to recover in an instant. And make sure that he knows that you know that. Remind him that you don't expect him to become sober over night. It really is an addiction, and that's not going to disappear immediately, no matter how much he wants it to. And you know that and don't expect it to either. It's important for him to know that while you expect him to do his best, you also are fully aware that it's going to take time and LOTS of effort.

With all of that being said, I want to talk about something else that is critically important in your conversations about relapse; how it effects you.

You need to be completely honest about how you feel when he tells you that he's relapsed. Don't be afraid to express any negative emotions that you feel about it with him. 

This can be really scary in all honesty because you're afraid that if you tell him that you feel upset in any way, then he'll stop telling you when he relapses to spare your feelings. Which is an extremely valid concern! But it's so important that he fully understands that his addiction isn't only effecting him anymore. In truth, it's never only effected him, but now it's more directly effecting another person.

While it is important to be loving and supportive, it is equally important to be just as honest with him as you expect him to be with you. You can be both loving and honest. And you should be.

It is natural for you to feel sad, angry, confused, or overwhelmed when your loved one tells you that he relapsed. Those feelings are completely valid! Even knowing that the relapse isn't your fault and is completely separate from you, it is still hard to hear that the person that you love has once again delved into something so horrible. And telling him that it upsets you gives new meaning to his relapses. 

While his recovery process is ultimately his, he has, in a sense, invited you to walk the road of recovery with him. And that is an incredible privilege in that he cares enough about you- and trusts you enough -to let you see the darkest parts of him. But there is no sugar coating it. It is also a burden. There is nothing easy about knowing that the one you love is fighting something as serious as sexual addiction. 

Now this isn't going to be a perfect model for everyone, but I wanted to share how my conversations with Jonathan would usually go when he would tell me that he relapsed:

I would always start off by thanking him for telling me. I know how hard that in and of itself can be, and his honesty is so, so important to me.

Then I would ask him to walk me through what happened.

He would then tell me what triggered the relapse and at least a basic idea of what he did and/or looked up. 

I would ask if there was anything else that he felt that I should know about it and he would either tell me no, or would tell me more.

From here, I would usually thank him again for telling me and then one of two things would come next. Either I would encourage him and help him to see that he's not a hopeless case, or I would express the negative feelings that I felt as he told me about his relapse.

You see, I didn't always respond the same way to his relapses. Often, I was able to keep a pretty cool head about it. I usually felt worse for him than I did for myself when he told me. Mostly I was just relieved that he was telling me at all. But occasionally, it would really hit me. Sometimes just because, other times because of the nature of the relapse. And I learned not to hold that in. It was important that he knew that I believed that he could overcome his addiction, but it was also important that he knew that his relapse hurt me. It helped him to better understand his own addiction and the effect that it has not only on himself, but also on those that he loves.

Again, I am not a perfect model of the loved one of a recovering addict. And just as every addict is different, so is every loved one. And that is perfectly okay. If you get really sad or really angry when he tells you about an addiction, that's completely understandable! Just because I don't doesn't mean that you shouldn't! There is no one right way to support a recovering addict. All I want to do is share my experiences to hopefully help you to better understand yours.

I will say though, if you do experience intense emotions surrounding a relapse, then it is perfectly okay to take some time to process it before telling him how you feel. A possible option for you could be to thank him for telling you, but then tell him that you need some time to process before discussing it any further. Yes, he is likely feeling pretty down about relapsing, but that doesn't mean that you should swallow your emotions to talk to him about it immediately. It will be better for both of you if you take the time that you need to understand your emotions before trying to dive in to being supportive and uplifting. Your feelings matter just as much as his do!

The last thing that I want to say about all of this is that it is okay if you decide that your relationship with this person isn't going to work. If you find that they are a toxic person- regardless of the reasons behind it -then you are completely justified in getting out of the relationship. I never want anyone to feel like they need to stay in a toxic relationship in order to help that person to recover. That's not how any of this works.

And if you find that you simply can't handle the recovery life, even though they're a great person, that's okay too. Not everyone is meant to walk the path that I walk. If it's too much for you, then do what is best for you. Because if you stay in it when it's eating you up inside, then it doesn't matter if the person is toxic or not, the result will be very similar. 

And it doesn't mean that you are weak. It just means that it wasn't right. 

I think that it is amazing that you gave him a chance in the first place. Many (possibly most) girls run away screaming from recovering addicts. And that is a real shame to me. Because some of the very best people that I know have struggled (and often are still struggling) with sexual addiction. So I'm proud of you for looking past the addiction in the first place.

But if you do decide to stay, know that there is a very special strength that comes with loving and supporting an addict. I absolutely LOVED what one woman shared in an AR meeting once. She said that she went to a seminar about pornography and relationships and was sorely disappointed in how the wives of addicts were portrayed. They made it seem like they only stayed with the addict out of fear.

"I'm not with my husband because I'm afraid to leave him! I'm with him because I love him!" She expressed to us that she feels proud of all of us for doing what we are doing. That it isn't a sign of weakness, but of strength!

So to close this lengthy post, I just want to say thank you to all of you who are giving these recovering addicts a chance. I am so proud of you for looking past the addiction and seeing the person behind it. I am honored to be in the ranks of those who fight an addiction that isn't theirs in the name of love. 

And for those of you who are new to these ranks; know that you are not alone. There are people all around you that are walking a very similar path who are cheering you on. For they have fought the battles that you have yet to face, and they have felt the weight that you have chosen to shoulder. From someone who knows to someone to doesn't yet, I want you to know that you don't have to go this alone. I'm here if you ever have any questions or simply want to chat with someone who gets it. And there are resources out there for people like us! So know that you are absolutely not alone in this.

PS- If you are in any sort of relationship with a recovering addict, I would HIGHLY recommend going to the AR group for loved ones of addicts. I absolutely loved my group in Rexburg and am really sad that we don't have one here! If they don't have a group for loved ones where you live, definitely check out the manual still! You can find it here. I would also recommend checking out all of the resources on LDS.org in general. They have a whole section called "Addressing Pornography" that has links to different resources for addicts, spouses of addicts, parents of addicts, etc.

PPS- For more about my experiences with both my ex and my husband, check out these posts:

Don't You Dare Blow It

The original For Those Who Know series:

Dear You

Not Your Fault

Slack

This Isn't the End of Love

Worry About Yourself Part 1

Worry About Yourself Part 2

Where I Am

Porn Kills

You're a Person, Not an Addict

Wait, What? (My Side of the Story)

"Hearts Don't Break Around Here" (His Side of the Story)

PPPS-

I haven't read all of these books, but I have heard really good things about all of them! They all focus on pornography addiction recovery.

-He Restoreth My Soul: Understanding and Breaking the Chemical and Spiritual Chains of Pornography through the Atonement of Jesus Christ by Donald L. Hilton

-Like Dragons Did They Fight by Maurice W. Harker

-He Did Deliver Me From Bondage by Colleen Harrison
-Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend

You've Got to Be Kidding

Okay, so I wrote the majority of this post a while ago, but I decided to wait to post it until International Men's Day.

I came across an article one night that sounded interesting, so I read through it. It was called I Thought My Engagement Ring Would Act as a Shield Against Men. Nope. Long title, I know. But intriguing.

As I read through it, I found myself agreeing with much of what she said. BUT. There was one major issue that I had with the article; how she portrayed marriage.

Here are some of the things that she said:

I'm not going to lie, reading those things got my blood boiling a little bit. I was dumbfounded and found myself saying "You've got to be kidding me!" How can she be so negative about something so wonderful? How can she write about being so disgusted with all of the creepers out there but then follow that up with a show of such disdain for the act of willfully committing yourself to an actual GOOD man? The following is everything that I furiously wrote after I read the article:

I'm married because I WANT to be. Because I found someone that loves me more than anyone else and wants to build a life WITH me. He wants to help me to become everything that I ever wanted and more. And he looks to me to help and support him in his goals as well. He does EVERYTHING for me and asks for little in return. I'm not his slave. I'm not his property. I'm his partner. His companion. His WIFE. Marriage does not equal bondage, or giving in to the patriarchy, or whatever other crap people say these days. It can be if that's the kind of man that you marry. But if you marry a good man, I promise you that he's not thinking of you as property. That's what slave owners think. And, last I checked, my husband is not that.

I get that a long time ago, marriage was more of a business proposition than a union of two people that love each other. And I get that in some places, this is still true. However, I'm pretty sure the author of that article chose to get engaged. I'm pretty sure that she loves her fiance and decided to marry him. So why is she treating it like she's bracing herself for torture? She seems to take the old phrase "ball and chain" a bit too literally.

Stop dreading marriage. Stop looking at it as submission.

Was your marriage arranged? Is your fiance forcing you into a life of servitude? No? Then why aren't you celebrating the end of the stupid dating game? The end of wondering if things are going to work out with this one? The end of feeling like no one will ever truly love you?

Getting married isn't limiting yourself to one man. It's committing yourself to the one man who would do anything for you! It's telling yourself that you're done with crappy relationships. You've found a good one and heck yeah you're going to hang on to him!

Holy moly people! Ball and chain? You've got to be kidding me!

My husband is the one who lifts me up, strengthens me, encourages me, serves me, LOVES me the most! I'm not married because anyone forced me to give in to anything or give away my freedom, but because I absolutely WANT to be with the man that makes me ridiculously happy! My husband doesn't lord over me or control who I am. He supports and encourages me to be my own person and become the person that I want to be.

Why would I WANT to give myself to anyone else? Because I do give. I give myself to my husband in every way possible. But guess what? He gives himself to me every single day in a million different ways. I don't belong to my husband. I'm not an object. I made a commitment to love and cherish him forever. And he did the same. Neither of us belongs to the other. We belong WITH each other!

I didn't give away my agency by getting married. I used my agency to choose a man that I feel will take my love and cherish it. It was my choice to get married and it is my choice to stay committed.

I didn't submit myself to a life of isolation. I didn't give up my right to have friends. I didn't lose my agency. I choose every single day to devote myself to my husband, just as he devotes himself to me. I choose to live my life with the person that is willingly investing himself in my health, happiness, and well-being.

I still have my own things that I like to do. My own friends, my own likes and dislikes, my own life. I still have everything good about my life before marriage. But now I also have a live in best friend, cheerleader, Log Horizon watching buddy, Ramen chef, shoulder-to-cry-on, and snuggle buddy that enhances my ability to be truly happy and feel safe and secure.

I didn't give anything away. I replaced it with something better.

Am I yoked? Yes.

To servitude? No.

To my husband? Absolutely.

But only because I choose to be and because he chooses to be equally yoked with me.

There is something woefully missing from society's view of marriage. The part where the man is just as much yoked to the woman. The part where the man is choosing to commit himself to one woman just as much as the woman commits herself to one man. The part where marriage- when done the right way -is the opposite of isolated servitude. Rather it's the choice to be free to be the best you without caring about what other people think. Because you always have someone who thinks that you are amazing and will back you in every positive change in your life.

By getting married to a good man of my own choosing, I chose to commit myself to love and- yes -serve one man for the rest of my life. But only because he chose to do the EXACT. SAME. THING. for me.

So excuse me from your pity party. If that's how you view marriage, then I'm not quite sure why you're doing it. I did it because I wanted to. Because I chose to. Because my husband is my absolute biggest supporter. Because he serves me in more ways than anyone else. Because he loves me the right way every day and I sure as heck am totally fine with him continuing to do so every single day for the rest of eternity. And I choose to do the same for him.

PS- Could you do me a quick favor and message me letting me know that you read this? I think that Blogger's stats might be off, so I want to see if more people tell me that they've read it than Blogger is telling me. Thanks!!!

Seeing Isn't Believing

"Everything is going to be okay."

I know that. I know that it's going to be okay. I just wish that I knew how! I wish that I had some idea of what I should be doing right now to help make it okay.

I have said, or thought, similar things over and over and over again these past couple of years.

I know that all things will work together for my good. I know that everything will turn out alright as long as I continue to live faithfully. I know that I'm never alone. I know that Christ can help me to heal. I know that Heavenly Father can create beauty out of my ashes (Isaiah 61:3).

I know.

But sometimes it is so hard to really feel like everything is going to be okay when everything in your life seems to be falling apart. Sometimes I would love to catch a glimpse of, not even the end game, but the next step at least. Sometimes I would really love to just understand how things can possibly work out when nothing seems to be so far. And sometimes it's really easy to discount the things that actually have worked out because they are overshadowed by what seems to be a mountain of things that haven't.

During fast and testimony meeting this month, one sister said something, I don't even know what exactly, that sparked a thought for me.

In the scriptures we learn:

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. 
Hebrews 11:1

Yea, there are many who do say: If thou wilt show unto us a sign from heaven, then we shall know of a surety; then we shall believe.

Now I ask, is this faith? Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to believe, for he knoweth it.

...faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true.
Alma 32:17-18, 21

And it came to pass that Ether did prophesy great and marvelous things unto the people, which they did not believe, because they saw them not.

And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.
Ether 12:5-6

Now, I've read and heard these verses many times throughout my life. I've studied them personally on multiple occasions when I've been struggling. And yet it wasn't until that testimony meeting that I made a connection that I had never really consciously made before.

I feel like when I read these verses, I think of big, obvious miracles like Moses parting the Red Sea or Christ healing the blind. You know, ones that are very clearly miracles. Ones that absolutely could not have happened without Divine intervention.

When I think of people demanding signs, I think of stories like the one that Elder Christofferson shared in this past General Conference about the prophet Elijah proving to the priests of Baal that their god was not the true God by having them both pray to their "god" to set fire to a pyre with a sacrificial offering on it.

But I realized that those thoughts of "couldn't I please just understand how everything is going to work out?" is the same thing as asking for a sign.

Show me proof that things are going to be okay. 

Write my next step in life on the wall or send it in a dream. 

Where are the words in my head telling me what to do next?

I often ask to have my fear replaced with faith, but I think that what I really keep asking is to have my faith replaced with knowledge. And that's no bueno. Because faith is believing even when you don't see. Believing that Heavenly Father has my back. That He really does know exactly what He is doing with my life. That He really can give beauty for ashes.

Even when I don't see what He is doing. How He is protecting me. How He is guiding me. How He is strengthening me.

One of my all time favorite scriptures is 1 Nephi 4:6-7. Well, 6 through the very beginning of 7. I've talked about this scripture in a previous post and I'm sure that it's not the last time that I'll talk about it.

This is after the most well-known verse in chapter 3 about going and doing. After the sons of Lehi have tried not once, but twice to obtain the record from Laban. This is the moment where Nephi really puts his words into action. He said that he knew that the Lord would provide a way (1 Nephi 3:7) and here he is proving that.

He says that he was "led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do. Nevertheless I went forth."

Nephi had no idea how he was going to get the record. He and his brothers had tried a couple of different approaches and Laban made it clear that not only would he not give them the record, but also that he wanted them dead. But Nephi knew that "it would all work out" because God had told them to get it, so by golly they were going to get it.

And so he went back to the palace with no plan. Not because he hadn't given it plenty of thought. Not because he hadn't already been doing his best to figure it out on his own. But because he knew that it was time to simply trust that Heavenly Father was going to make it work. He couldn't have known that he would find Laban drunk, or that he would be able to easily convince a servant of Laban that he was his master. All he knew was what God asked him to accomplish and that God would help him accomplish it.

And so he "went forth."

I may not ever be asked to leave my home to create a whole new nation on a different continent, but I am asked to live righteously and trust God.

And I do.

Or, at least, I try to. I actually try really, really hard to. And yet, because I am very much imperfect, I still find myself asking "how is this going to work out? I just don't see how this can possibly work out!"

I find myself asking to be able to see how it's going to work instead of being content to just believe.

And the thing is, Heavenly Father has proven to me over and over again that He really is more than capable of working everything out. He stopped me from marrying an abusive felon. He enabled me to stay out at school with zero funds and no income. He helped me to face a paralyzing terror of dating to help me to meet and marry my incredible husband.

I HAVE seen miracles. The past two years has been one trial after the other, but also one miracle after the other. And none of these miracles came in an instant. And none of them were hinted at by the Spirit to soothe my conscience. I didn't see a single one coming.

But they came. And they keep on coming.

And I am still facing seemingly insurmountable trials. And I am still afraid. And I still find myself wanting to catch a glimpse of everything happening behind the scenes. But I really do know that everything will work out. I have no idea how. I have no idea when. But I know that it will. Not because I have seen how, but because I believe.

That's what faith is. Not seeing, but believing because you've seen it before.

So no, I may not know how things will be okay. How I will fully heal from abuse and trauma. How I will be able to be a good mom someday with all of my mental and physical illnesses and injuries. How I will get back to taking classes and doing well in them so that I can graduate. But I know that God knows. And so I will simply trust that the Spirit will guide me, and I will go forth.

I don't have to see and understand. I have to believe and press forward. And as I do so, everything is going to be okay.

We're All Just People Part Two

A few weeks ago I was at a red light when I saw the car in front of me rear end the car in front of it. Just barely. The car immediately stopped and parked, as did the car in front of it. I wondered what was going to happen. It was hardly a bump, but I’ve seen people completely freak out over things like that. Out of the front car came a young woman. She was wearing some sort of head scarf and looked to be Indian or Arab. Out of the second car came a black woman maybe in her forties. I don’t know what they said, but I did notice that there didn’t seem to be any contention. They talked for a minute or two and then got back in their cars and kept driving.

Last night I was driving by myself around midnight and it was raining slightly. I saw a car on the side of the road with its flashers going. Now let me tell you, every time I see a car on the side of the road like that, I immediately have two thoughts; I want to help, and what if they’re a rapist? I always, always want to stop, but I rarely do because I’m a young woman with little body strength. But last night I stopped. When I got to the car, it was empty, but the door was wide open. I peeked inside from as far away as I could, and then turned back to my car. There were two black men walking towards me on either side of my car. I calmly kept walking towards my car and when I got close enough, I asked if the other car was theirs. It was. Long story short, there was nothing that I could really do to help, but they thanked me for stopping. Then we both went back to our respective cars and I kept driving.

Both of these examples could have gone south very easily. Not because someone was Arab or black or white, but because there are angry people out there and there are sketchy people out there. What's interesting to me, though, is that I never would have known the ethnicity of the drivers of the cars around me if they hadn’t had to stop for some reason.

I’ve had this idea swirling around in my head for a few months now. I’m not quite sure where it came from, but it’s been there.

I hadn't planned on writing another "We're All Just People" post, but the thought kept coming back, so here we go.

This is the basic idea:

There are so many people with a multitude of different prejudices. People who won’t associate with people with different religions, skin color, political views, etc. And yet they trust them.

Let me explain.

When you are driving your car, you don’t know what kind of people are in the cars around you. You have no idea if the drivers are black, white, Muslim, gay, Democrats, Pro-Choice, transgender, Catholic, or atheist. But you trust them not to swerve into oncoming traffic. You are logically cautious, but you ultimately have to trust everyone else on the road if you're going to convince yourself to drive.

That thought has really stuck with me.

Because you can’t pick and choose who you are on the road with. You can’t only drive on roads with people that you agree with. You drive with anyone and everyone that's on the road with you. And you inherently trust them. Not to say that you aren’t wary of the cars around you. Of course you’re keeping an eye out for a car that’s weaving or cutting you off. You understand that driving can be dangerous. But it’s also an everyday part of life, so you aren’t really necessarily afraid every time you hit the road.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we treated all social interactions like we treat driving? Trusting other people to do the right thing? To do their best to be safe?

However, on the other hand, I also really hate the way that people treat driving as well. Again, let me explain.

Have you ever accidentally cut someone off? Or driven onto the rumble strip because you were distracted or tired? Well then, someone has probably cussed you out from the car behind you at some point. Not because you're drunk or even a really bad driver necessarily. No, it's because you're a human being and that means that you're not perfect.

Wouldn't it be nice if the person flipping you off instead thought of you as a person that could have any number of things going on in your life?

Here’s another real-life example:

A few weeks ago I was driving. I don’t remember where to or what the circumstances were, but I do remember the drive.

Let me explain something really quickly to you first though.

I’m not a great driver. I’ll openly admit it.

Here’s why:

Instead of the three paragraphs that were originally here, let me just say that because of various circumstances, I didn't get my license until I was 19. I've never had my own car, so I didn't drive many places after I got my license either. Then I was in a no-car mission. Then out at school, still with no car. All in all, I really haven’t driven very much in the past 5-6 years that I've had my license, so I still have a lot to learn about driving.

Okay, now that you understand why I’m not the best driver, let me get back to my story.

I popped two curbs while turning at different points in this trip.

Strike one.

I accidentally cut someone off because I didn’t see them in the rear-view mirror. I looked. I double-checked. I signaled and moved over. But when I got over, there was a car RIGHT THERE honking at me.

I was shaken from almost hitting someone and then being honked at (understandably because it was a safety concern), so I didn’t turn my turn signal off right away.

Strike two and two and a half.

I missed a bunch of turns and exits.

Steeee-rike three.

Now here’s the thing. I get flustered REALLY easily when I drive because I know that I’m not the greatest at driving. I try to be careful and do everything right, but I mess up. A lot. And because I have anxiety now, being flustered can very quickly turn into panicking.

I was flustered when I popped the first curb. I was border-line panicking for the rest, which made me even more prone to making mistakes. Luckily no one was hurt during the duration of this drive.

The point of me sharing this highly embarrassing driving story is that you never know what people are going through.

I’ve driven with people that get major road rage. That immediately start bad mouthing other drivers. And it makes me shrink inside. Because I know that a lot of the time when I drive, I’m probably the one that people are bad mouthing.

And yeah, sometimes it’s obvious that someone really is being a jerk or super reckless. But most of the time, the judgements and name calling is based off a singular event.

Whoever I cut off may have thought that I was being a major butthole. Someone who saw me pop a curb or turn around, yet again, because I was clearly lost may have thought that I was drunk or high. But I’m not and I wasn’t.

I’m just a person, doing my best to drive safely, just like most everyone else on the road.

In general, we’re all okay with each other when we’re driving. We subconsciously trust each other to a certain degree. We don’t give a ton of thought to the cars around us. We don’t appreciate when someone signals properly or goes the speed limit. But then we definitely get upset when someone doesn’t. And for some reason the anger is so immediate and so explosive.

I wish that people really lived the idea of giving people the benefit of the doubt. Rather than exploding with expletives, remember that the person driving the other car is a human being, just like you.

Maybe they’re driving a bit obnoxiously quickly because their wife is in labor. Or too slow because their fragile grandmother is in the back of the car. Maybe they honestly didn’t see you before cutting you off. Maybe they’re trying not to have a panic attack before they can find a safe place to stop. Maybe they are still learning all of the ins and outs of driving, but have their license, so can’t have the nice “Student Driver” magnet on the back of the car anymore.

Wouldn’t it be nice if, when we got in our cars and started driving, we didn’t just trust that the cars around us won’t hit us, but also that the person in the driver’s seat is doing their best to be a good driver?

And wouldn’t it be nice if we thought of people in every situation the way that we think of people when we drive? Not looking at everything that makes them different that we don’t like or agree with, but simply seeing them as another car on the road, just trying to reach their destination safely?

If we can trust any single person on the road not to just swerve into traffic and crash into everyone, can’t we trust any single person outside of a car to be a decent human being?

At the end of the day, when we all drive home and get out of our cars, we’re all just people doing the best with what we’ve got. People with dreams, families, weaknesses, and trials. People who aren’t just one thing, but many. Not just Muslim. But a daughter, friend, and nurse. Not just gay. But a son, employee, and animal rights activist. Not just white. But a wife, bookworm, and survivor.

When you drive, the people around you are just people.

When you're parked, the people around you are still just people.

We are ALL just people.

Don't You Think?

My chronic illness posts (one and two) weren't very popular, and that's okay. I honestly didn't expect them to be. But here's the crux of those posts; the reason that I felt like posting them was so important.

This is what I really want to ask everyone about all of my medical (physical and mental/emotional) issues:

Don't you think that I hate them too?

Don't you think that I would love to see all of the people and do all of the things all of the time?

Don't you think that I'd rather hang out with you (as planned) than attempt to sleep while feeling nauseous and keep getting up to sit on the toilet for ridiculous amounts of time with stomach cramps?

Don't you think that I'd rather spend time with all of the people that we drove two days to see instead of being shut up at my friend's apartment attempting to get some rest so that I might end up feeling well enough to be able to spend at least a teensy bit of time with them? We sure didn't just exhaust all of our funds and travel for a ridiculous amount of time so that I could be sick and make not only the traveling take way longer, but also make it so that we couldn't do nearly as much as we'd like to be able to once we got there.

Don't you think I'd actually like to be a productive human that gets up at a decent time and gets things done with time to spare to have fun?

Don't you think I'd rather be fit and healthy instead of getting light-headed and having labored breathing because I expended the energy to take a shower?

Don't you think that I feel awful for being late all of the time?

Don't you think that I wonder how I even have friends when I constantly have to cancel or push back plans because I feel too sick or too exhausted to follow through?

Don't you think that I'm sick of my life being a daily Russian roulette of whether or not I'll actually manage to do a single productive thing or not that day?

Don't you think that I hate constantly having to wonder how sick I'm going to feel tomorrow? Or how much my PTSD is going to ruin not only my day, but the day of everyone that depends on me?

Don't you think that I'd like to be able to live a normal life where I can set plans and not have to wonder if I'll actually manage to do them this time?

Don't you think that I'd like to not have to make bargains with God where I literally say that "I'll feel awful for every second of the day tomorrow if that means that I can feel well enough the next day to make it to and through all three hours of church on Sunday?"

Don't you think that I don't feel horrible each time I'm up late having a panic attack because I know that that means that I'm going to be too sick and tired to do anything the next day? Regardless of whether it's something that I WANT to do or not.

Don't you think that I hate every second of being in bed or sobbing all over my husband instead of going out and living my life?

Don't you think that I hate seeing my to-do list remain undone for days, weeks, months on end because I couldn't do any of them today because I felt too sick?

Don't you think that I hate that I try so hard every single day to be better and fail over and over again?

Don't you think that I'd love to be able to live my life like a regular, functional, healthy human being?

Because I do.

So please cut me some slack.

You don't know how hard it was for me to show up at all. You don't know how frustrated I got for being late or for having to bail out on plans because I physically can't handle them right now, no matter how excited I may have been for weeks to do them.

You don't know how dang hard I try every single moment of my life to be better. How often even doing the bare minimum is absolutely exhausting. How tired I am of "celebrating the small victories" when sometimes a win for me is getting out of bed, eating, and then brushing my teeth before getting back in bed for the rest of the day.

You don't know that I don't wait until I feel "good" to do things. I wait until it's barely tolerable and then I go and do it while still nauseous and exhausted. And I slap a smile on my face because I'm just happy to be out of the house, even if I still feel fairly horrid.

You don't feel the despair of wanting to be a good wife, student, friend, sister, daughter, employee, ward member, etc. and feeling like I'll never, ever be able to consistently be ANY of those things.

So before you say "surprise surprise, she's not coming", "she's going to be late", "she's being so inconsiderate/selfish" please ask yourself "Don't you think that she feels bad enough about the situation as it is?"

Because I can guarantee you that I do.

*Phew*

I typed all of the above up on my phone as we were driving back home from Rexburg. It was a really rough trip on me physically and emotionally for various reasons that I'm not going to get into right now. But my last night there spurred this post. It brought up fears that have been swirling around inside of me for as long as I can remember, and especially right now as I start a new life in Ohio.

You see, my whole life, I've worried about what other people think of me. I think most people do.

But for me, it hasn't just been whether people think that I'm pretty or not or talented enough or whatever (although I've had plenty of those worries too). No, my whole life, I've worried about what people would think of how my chronic illnesses effect my life.

In a previous post, I talked about how I always struggled to make and keep friends. I then went on to talk about some of the reasons that it was so hard for me. Though I didn't delve much into it in that post, I have always felt that most of it revolved around my mental and physical health. Making friends has always been a scary venture for me because I feel like, even now, there is always a small part of me that is waiting for myself to become too much for people. Waiting for them to realize that I'm too sad, too sick, too messed up to keep being friends with.

I remember talking to at least one companion on my mission about being terrified that no one would ever want to marry me because my medical stuff is just too much to handle.

And that is a fear that I've had my whole life.

Obviously I've found someone that decided to take on the challenge of dealing with my messy life. And I am so, SO incredibly, indescribably grateful for him. And yet, those fears of pushing people away, of being too much to handle, are still very much there.

Moving to Ohio has been extremely scary for me for a multitude of reasons. But the one that I've struggled with the most is my fear of rejection.

In Rexburg, I have been so blessed to have made so many wonderful, supportive friends. People who have been understanding of my many, many medical problems, both physical and mental. Leaving those people has been terrifying in all honesty. After spending my whole life in fear of rejection, in fear of losing every person that I ever care about, leaving the people who finally stuck around has been awful. Contemplating trying to find a group of people like that again has been very taxing.

I was very blessed to be able to make it through all of the craziness of this summer. Driving from Rexburg to Ohio, Ohio to New York, then to Pennsylvania, then back to OH, then back to PA, then back to OH, then getting married, then back to PA, then on to the honeymoon in NY, and then finally starting to settle in Ohio until we drove all the way to Rexburg and back.

My health got me through the wedding and first two receptions.

The honeymoon was rough because my body was spent from all of the traveling and stress. And then I got a cold halfway through. I still thoroughly enjoyed it simply because I got to spend a few days of interrupted time with my amazing new husband, but it was still clear that my body was done being nice to me.

The few weeks that we had between the honeymoon and our trip to Rexburg has been really hard on me, both physically and emotionally.

People keep asking me how married life is and I struggle to know what to say. Because Jonathan makes me happier than I've been capable of being in about two years. But I also am majorly struggling.

Our financial situation is awful. Jonathan has been having to work SO much just to keep us afloat. We don't have our own place yet. My physical health has dive-bombed again after being so miraculously nice to me over the summer. This means that while my husband works all day, I struggle to get out of bed for longer than an hour or two at a time. I have been feeling so incredibly useless. I want so badly to be able to help contribute to our marriage more; to be able to get a job and help make money. Or at least to be able to better support my husband in all that he does for me every day.

But I feel like I'm trying to keep my head above water in the ocean.

During a tsunami.

While wearing a denim dress.

Needless to say, feeling sick- and thus useless -all of the time has not been great for my mental health. I have had so many anxiety/panic attacks over the last few weeks. I am trying so hard to stay afloat; to "get better" so that I can be a contributing member of society. And in the midst of all of that, there is the fear of rejection from those around me. I don't really know anyone here yet, but I'm afraid to get to know people because I don't want them to see how broken I am. I don't want them to know that I am struggling so much and so deeply. I want people to see why Jonathan married me, but I don't even fully understand why he did.

Why would anyone want to deal with this- with me -all of the time for the rest of forever? Why would anyone want to be married to someone who is just a bump on a log most of the time? Unable to contribute financially or otherwise to supporting our family? Why would anyone be willing to put up with multiple panic attacks a week? And constant weakness and fatigue?

How am I supposed to prove to anyone else that Jonathan made a good choice in marrying me if I can't even see how it possibly could have been a good choice?

I am so afraid of letting the people here see how broken I am. How much I sleep because I'm nauseous and lightheaded, how much I sob uncontrollably, how much I often feel like the shell of a person instead of a functioning human being.

I want to make friends, but I don't want people to know who I really am. Because I'm afraid that if they do, they'll turn tail and book it away as fast as they can.

You would think that the positive experience that I've had with my Rexburg friends would help to calm those fears, but it doesn't. Instead I'm not only afraid of not being able to make meaningful, lasting connections here; I'm also afraid of losing the friendships that I have in Idaho. It's just this never ending cycle of fear, and sickness, and sadness.

With all of that being said, I do have a radiant beam of sunshine in my life that keeps me going each and every day:

My husband.

Jonathan is the one person that I am always certain loves me and wants me in his life. It doesn't matter if I don't understand why he does, if I feel that I don't deserve it, or that I'm struggling to love myself. No matter how I feel about myself at any given moment, I know without a doubt that Jonathan thinks that I'm amazing, beautiful, and worthwhile.

I had the worst panic attack yet last night. Sobbing uncontrollably on the floor, telling God that I don't know how to keep doing this, feeling like some loathsome creature that doesn't deserve the love that He, my husband, and my friends and family give to me. It was terrible, to say the very least. And yet, no matter how completely, horridly awful I felt about myself and my situation, I never once doubted that God loves me, knows what He's doing, and wouldn't put me through a single moment of pain that would not help me.

I also never once doubted that Jonathan actually does like being married to me for some reason. That he really does see so much good in me. And let me tell you, the way my brain has been beating on me, the fact that I never doubt my husband's love and devotion to me is one of the biggest miracles of my entire life.

After feeling rejected so much in my life- after feeling over and over again like I am letting everyone down, after being beaten down by my past fiance, who was supposed to be the one that never made me feel like I wasn't good enough -I know that I have one person that isn't going anywhere.

So when people ask me how married life is, it's hard to say. Because it is excruciating. Not because of my husband, but because of everything else. But it is also full of love and joy. Not because of everything else, but because of my husband.

I wish that I didn't feel like I constantly just want to take people by the shoulders and try to explain to them why I am the way that I am. I wish that I didn't live in constant fear of what others will think of me because of everything that I'm struggling with. I wish that I didn't always have thoughts of "Don't you think that I'm not already being hard enough on myself?" But I am also so blessed to know that even if no one else understands- even if no one else can fully comprehend the agony that I go through each day as I try to live a simple, functional life -one person does.

I don't ever have to ask Heavenly Father "Don't you think?" Because He knows. And because He knows, He's sent me the biggest blessing that I could ever receive; my husband.

And so no matter how defeated I feel, no matter how much all of this hurts sometimes, I know that I have to keep going. I can't just scream "Don't you think?!" to everyone and resign myself to a life of being misunderstood.

No matter how many panic attacks I have or how many days I struggle to even work up the energy and motivation to get up and brush my teeth before heading back to bed, I know that all of this is happening for a reason. I don't know why. I don't know when it's going to get easier. I don't know when I'll start consistently feeling "okay" again. But I know that I will.

Because even if no one else can fully understand what I'm going through, God does. And that's enough.

Don't you think?

PS- I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone that has stuck around. I know that I'm not always very easy to deal with. I know that being close to me means having to cut me a lot of slack, as well as having to pick up a lot of slack for me. I know that I can be very difficult to handle. So thank you for loving me anyway. Thank you for seeing the good in me even when all I can see is the bad. Thank you for wanting to be in my life even when sometimes all I want is to find a different one that's not so painful.

Thank you for trying to understand where I'm at. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for forgiving me for the many, many times I've had to bail on you because of my health.

It honestly means the world to me.

I struggle to remember sometimes that there actually are a lot of people that think that I'm enough. It's hard to believe that when I don't feel like I'm enough. When I sometimes feel like I never will be.

So thank you.

Like This

Real talk.

I've been really struggling with my body lately. Clearly I'm not obese or anything, but I do weigh more right now than I ever have in my entire life. My thighs rub together when I walk, which has never happened to me before. My arms are wider and flabbier than usual. My face is rounder than it used to be. Because I'm small, I've been looking slightly pregnant a lot of the time because if my stomach grows at all, it's very apparent.

I've also been struggling with acne more in the last few months than I have in a while.

All in all, I haven't exactly looked my best. I've actually been looking the worst that I have in a long time, which is not what you want right before you get married. I wanted to look the prettiest that I've ever looked on my wedding day and the way my body was looking made it seem like that would be impossible.

My friend performed miracles on my generally unstylable hair and the pictures turned out pretty well. I can't really complain too much. But I've still been feeling extremely discontent with my body.

Starting my new life with my amazing husband should be this exciting adventure! But with my PTSD, everything is giving me major anxiety. Moving to a new state, not having friends, having to find a place for us to live, contemplating trying to find a job and actually successfully working it, etc. My anxiety has ben through the roof.

And my body image is just one more thing to add to the list of things that are giving me panic attacks at the moment.

So this picture hit REALLY hard.

There is so much about myself that I would like to change. Not just about my body, but about my mental being, about my capacity to function like a regular adult, about my ability to be a good wife in the midst of it all. I'm being stretched closer to breaking right now.

But I do have one amazing thing going for me. My husband. He's on my side, by my side, cheering me on, comforting me, and reminding me that even if I don't, HE loves me just the way that I am right now. He's the whisper in my ear that tells me that I'm better than I think that I am. That I'm beautiful. That I'm strong. That I can do hard things and that things really will turn out okay.

And so now I sit here writing this, trying with all my might to believe him.

Because even when I can't, he "just love[s] me like this".