addiction

Sober and Recovering by the Grace of God

Hiking trail near Yosemite National Park, California

I feel grateful to God for giving me everyone and everything I need to be sober today. By the grace of my Higher Power I have nearly fifteen months of sobriety from my drug of choice: pornography.

I want people to know that working the 12 Steps works!

When I was younger I served as a missionary. My mission president and his wife often said, “The gospel of Jesus Christ is true. It’s true because it works!” I love that testimony, and I share it with them.

I have also learned for myself that the 12 Steps of addiction recovery are true. They are true because they work!

This witness I’ve received continues to grow. I still have work to do to distance myself from my addiction. I’m learning to rely on my Higher Power in everything.

For a long time I wondered and doubted whether the 12 Steps were true, or if they could work for me. I tried for years to work them. I had bursts of success and failure. I felt like I might never recover. Strangers and friends at recovery meetings kept saying, “Don’t give up. Keep coming back.” I’m so glad I chose to keep going to those meetings. Finding a sponsor I connected with was a game changer for me. He taught me how to work the 12 Steps. I would not be sober and in recovery today without working all the Steps with my sponsor and God.

“I can do this on my own” is the most effective lie Satan has ever told me.

“I cannot do this on my own” is one of the most important truths God has ever shown me.

If you’d like to learn more about the 12 Steps, I encourage you to read the book Alcoholics Anonymous and find a meeting (phone or in person) you can attend for free. If you struggle with pornography or sex like I do, there are also books and groups for Sexaholics Anonymous. You’re welcome to contact me with any questions.

Victory Over Lust Is The Key

The August 31 page of a Sexaholics Anonymous book titled The Real Connection:

———————————————-

Victory Over Lust Is The Key

True sobriety includes victory over lust (SA 202).

For me, awareness of lust is the key. I lust for sex, food, possessions, knowledge, admiring glances, honor, or anything that promises to me feel better about myself. While each of these lust objects may bring temporary pleasure, none provides long-term satisfaction. In my addiction, I was never satisfied because none of these objects could make me feel good about myself. As long as I felt badly about myself—who I am, how I look, and what I have done—then serenity always eluded me.

Lust is about wanting, but never really getting.

Addiction is about taking, but never really having.

Love is about caring, never possessing.

Taking the actions of love by caring about the wellbeing of my fellow sexaholics and giving of myself in service to the Fellowship—that is what satisfies.

Higher Power, help me find in You what I sought in lust.

One Powerful Step

I admitted I am powerless over lust and that my life has become unmanageable. (Step 1, Sexaholics Anonymous.)

Years ago I worked this step as a married man, desperate to save my relationship with my wife. This time I worked this step as a divorced man, ready to admit I have no control over lust and that my choices have led to a life I cannot manage on my own. Feels very different this time. I feel that I’m owning it more.

The last time I worked this step I had the guidance of a good man serving me as my sponsor. I’m working with a different sponsor this time, and his guidance has proven just as indispensable.

I’ve tried working these steps on my own without a sponsor. Every time I’ve failed. The only times I’ve felt real recovery and enjoyed real sobriety is when working closely with someone who’s successfully worked the steps and is still working them daily. I don’t believe there is any other way to do this. Not for me, anyway.

It makes sense, I think, that I would need a guide. By working the Twelve Steps I admit I am powerless, that my life has become unmanageable, and that I am practicing insanity to some degree (Step 2: “came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity”). I used to believe Jesus could be my guide. Certainly He can and I do ask Him to guide me. Now I believe that He often guides and helps me through other people.

For Step 1 my sponsor invited me to make a list, an autobiography of sorts, to document every thing and every way in which my addiction has made my life unmanageable. The purpose is to help me work Step 1 in my heart as well as in my head.

It was effective! I wrote down everything I could remember—every attempt to abstain and every relapse that followed (or at least the periods of time in which that cycle perpetuated given I cannot recall the thousands of individual attempts and relapses). I wrote down every relationship my addiction killed or damaged, every person I harmed with my selfish behavior. I noted my progress and and my failures over the years. Escalations in pornography content and new behaviors that evolved when the old ones no longer provided the same high.

Writing and reflecting made me sad to see how much time and effort I’ve spent trying to manage my life as an addict. I’ve learned a lot to be sure, but I’m still addicted. I’m still stuck in this. Clearly I cannot do this on my own. I am literally powerless over lust.

I write that last sentence and immediately recognize how foreign a concept it must be to those who have never been an addict or loved one up close. It made no sense to me for years and I’m still learning what it means (obviously, given I’m on Step 1). “Why don’t you just stop? If you wanted xyz enough, you would just stop.” I remember thinking those words to myself many times. The solution can be that simple when addiction isn’t the problem. There are myriad self-help books for changing behavior and habits. I’ve read dozens of them, all very helpful. I’ve also read a handful of books on addiction and I am telling you they are not the same beast! Telling or expecting an addict to “just stop” is as helpful as telling or expecting a sick person to just stop feeling nauseated. I have to remind myself this often, because I still speak unproductive words to myself from time to time.

I need spiritual healing, yes. But studying scripture, praying, repenting for a relapse, and confessing to my bishop is not enough.

I need physical health, true. But exercising, eating healthy, and having a healthy sex life with my spouse is not enough (also, the latter being an option I’m no longer willing to include in my life now that I’m divorced).

I need emotional intelligence and mental health, absolutely. But meditating, therapy, communicating, learning to cope healthily with life’s challenges aren’t enough.

I need to recover myself from an addiction. It’s literally an enslavement. I’m learning that my recovery requires a very specific, well-defined, and proven program fueled by connection to God and fellow addicts seeking recovery. So far I’ve found more success in working these twelve steps than I have found in any other idea or program, and I’ve tried many.

Reading my Step 1 to my sponsor today felt good. We talked about my history after I finished reading it. He shared his experience in working his Step 1. Felt good to feel understood. When he left I felt a burden lifted, but different from what I feel after confessing sin to my bishop. This wasn’t a confession but a shared understanding. He knows exactly what I’ve done and what I’m doing now because he’s done it too. I know he knows it, and he knows that I know. There’s power in that, which cannot be overstated and which I am struggling to describe.

Now I’m working Step 2. I still have a gnawing fear that the twelve steps won’t work for me. But I’m choosing to believe it can.

Moving forward!

Writing this blog helps me reaffirm what I’m learning, so thank you for reading.

Journal Entry: 10 July 2014

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

My friend invited me to speak to a group of young men at church today about pornography. I didn’t feel ashamed to do it. I wanted to warn those boys. I want them to see what pornography can do to a man and his family. It gives Satan power to destroy everything.

I read to them from my journal. Felt like the best way to capture what addiction was like for me when I was still deep in its clutches. I hope it helps them in some way.

The journal entry was titled, “Days Sober: 155”. I read it now and I feel a deep sorrow for that man. I know his pain and I remember it well. I’m still working toward lasting recovery, but oh what gratitude fills me when I see I am no longer that man! How far my choices and my God have brought me! Since then I have lost my marriage. But by the grace of God I am not broken beyond repair. I still have His support, and I have a strong network of friends and fellow brothers in recovery. And I am progressing. I am not alone.

Here’s the entry:

I’m not sure what I’m feeling. I’ve been feeling it for the past few days. It’s like I’m in the addiction again, but I haven’t acted out. 

No, I have been acting out. I’ve been a dry drunk. Taking drinks mentally. I’ve been lusting and fantasizing, sometimes without restraint. I’ve been entertaining thoughts of adultery.

What the hell?!?!?! What is wrong with me?! 

I’m still sick. I’m still addicted. I feel more free than ever before but I’m still tethered to this. 

I’m so tired of being addicted. I want to be free. I want to be free once and for all. I want to be healed. I feel so very tired.

I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to pretend that I’m okay. Well, part of me does. 

Is this too much to ask? Why am I not free yet? Why do I have to go through this? Why the hell did I ever choose to indulge in pornography? Why did I do all that stupid crap as a teenager? kissing, dancing, necking, petting, sex… WHY. WHY DIDN’T I JUST FREAKING LISTEN. WHY DID I THINK I COULD SIN AND BE HAPPY?

I wish I could go back. I wish I could say no. I wish I had listened. I would have listened. If I had known then what I know now, I would have listened. 

Today I feel tired. I feel sad and depressed. I want to be angry. I want to feel angry and mad at everyone. I just want to blame everyone else for my problems. I want to focus on their weaknesses and mistakes and rage over them. I like feeling angry. It burns off whatever crappy emotions build up inside of me. 

I think I could run. That might help.

I know I need to turn to Heavenly Father with a willing heart. I’ve been turning to Him but not willingly. I think those prayers helped though. I think they were a cry for help when I didn’t want to be helped. And I think Father in Heaven heard me.

I want to feel close to my wife again. I want to feel confident about life. I want to be filled with hope for my future, even if only for tomorrow. I want to look forward to it all. I want to think about my life and not feel overwhelmed and heavy. 

I feel tired. I’m sorry for all I’ve done. I’m sorry for my selfishness. 

What can I do? How do I deal with stress and loneliness? How do I handle feeling inadequate and ashamed?

God, please help me! Please. Please, I need Thee. I need help.

A good thing that happened today: God softened my heart so that I would repent for leaving Isla in her bedroom tonight before bed. I got impatient and frustrated with her so I left her in her bedroom with the light off and the fan running. She was sitting on the floor trying to change into different pajamas. I felt a prompting to go back to her and apologize but I didn’t want to. I wanted to be angry. After a while she started crying. I ran up to her bedroom as fast as I could. I turned on her light, knelt down in front of her, and pulled her close to me. I’m so, so sorry for leaving her like that. She said, “You leaved me, Daddy. You leaved me here.”

I want to be done with this. I want it so badly! I want to be a good father and husband. I want to love my dear ones the way they need and deserve. I love them so much and so often I don’t treat them accordingly.

Please forgive me, Father. Please have mercy on me and change me so that my daughter and wife will have the man they need. I’m sorry.

French Bread

Not sure what to say except I’m in a lot of pain and I felt a prompting to write about it here.

“Pain” is the French word for “bread.” So there you go.

My wife decided to divorce me. I feel hesitant to share details, particularly what she’s told me about her thoughts and feelings behind her decision. I don’t want to misrepresent them here and I don’t want to paint her choice in a negative color. Suffice it to say I think her choice is understandable and she deserves to feel loved and emotionally safe in her marriage. My multitudinous relapses over nine years made her feel the opposite.

Of course I feel sad. My emotions have been all over the place since she told me a couple months ago… depressed, lonely, angry (a lot of that one), abandoned, scared, fearful, stressed, confused (a lot of that one too), guilty, ashamed, lost, and I’m sure more which I can’t recall at the moment.

Oddly enough I also feel relieved given any future relapses won’t affect her directly. Not in the same way at least.

So now we’re figuring out this thing called divorce and I hate it. The state law here requires a twelve-month separation period before filing for divorce. I haven’t decided yet whether I like this law. A growing part of me wants it to be done and over with because it’s so painful… just rip the bandaid off already, please! Another part of me wants to hope that something will change her mind between now and the end of the twelve months. I’m afraid to hope for that. At the very least, this separation gives us some time to figure out the depressing details such as finances, when I’ll get to be with my children, etc.

Given my depression and this divorce I’m amazed I can still function at all. I have God to thank for that. Despite my choices causing this nightmare, I’ve felt His support with more intensity and focus than I think I ever have in my life. I purposefully distanced myself from Him after Jess told me her decision, particularly the specific guidance she received from Him while making her choice. Since then I’ve periodically turned to Him when I feel lost or overwhelmed, and every time He’s been right there for me in a powerful way. I felt Him sustaining me through the final weeks of my college education, enabling me to study and retain information even though I felt only half awake and couldn’t recall my coworkers’ names or remember to eat. I felt Him guiding me while I searched for a new place to live even though I hated doing it and I had no idea where to begin except that I want to live close to my children… He gave me three distinct confirmations where I’m supposed to live now, and I’m scheduled to move in before the end of this month. I’ve felt His support while working; He makes my brain think clearly enough to do my job well despite the restlessness and inability to focus which has now become the norm for me. I’ve felt His immediate reassurance every time I scream-pray in the moments when I feel an overwhelming surge of loneliness, anger, confusion, and fear. I don’t know how to describe it… He’s just there and He fills me with love every time I turn to Him, more quickly and more deeply than I’ve ever experienced before. This gives me hope and faith to keep moving.

Friends and family have also been amazing. People reach out to me almost daily, close friends and family as well as friendly acquaintances who offer their sincere support. I feel lost most days but after talking with one of these people I feel calm and able to take another painful step forward.

Of course no trial would be complete without Satan. I am extremely vulnerable right now and he knows it. He’s been kicking me while I’m down, taking advantage of my weakness. He really must be miserable if picking on a person in my current state is his favorite thing to do. He’s a jerkwad. Get thee behind me. (Modern translation: “Bye, Felicia!”) That’s all I’ll say about him.

A big part of me wants to be angry at my wife. A part of me is angry and I think that’s OK for now so long as I don’t seethe or let it steer my thoughts and decisions. I feel angry at her for leaving me when I need her most, but I don’t subscribe to the notion that a marriage relationship should be unconditional. Patient, yes, among other virtues; but not unconditional. (She stayed with me through nine years of relapses so I’d say she nailed the patience and long-suffering parts.) She told me she genuinely believes I will get better and conquer my depression, trauma, and addiction. Because of this I don’t believe she’s giving up on me, thought it’s extremely difficult not to feel that way. When I let myself think about this I end up at the conclusion that I’m simply not worth the pain to her anymore. I don’t know what to think of that conclusion but I’ve decided not to let my mind settle on any interpretations for now.

Some good has come out of this though. The day after she told me her decision I knew I needed to finally tackle the sexual abuse trauma I’d experienced in my youth. I’d put off working on it with my therapist for over three years because I was terrified of reliving it. I don’t know why or how to explain it but despite finding myself suddenly drowning in a new traumatic experience, I knew in my bones that I had to begin healing from the trauma of my youth and I had to do it *now.* (Maybe my mind and body could sense it would all be too much for me to bear if I didn’t start unloading?) My therapist and I dove in, and the sessions were extremely painful… but the healing has been powerful! I feel my addiction has less power over me because I’m finally processing those core events. It’s like I finally let a surgeon remove a decades-old, acid-leaking, miniature car battery from my chest. Breathing is easier and I feel more free.

Oh, and everything makes me cry now, so much so that it amuses me haha. Not that there’s anything wrong with crying—I believe it’s healthy and normal. But lately even the dumbest radio commercials and bumper stickers will get me teary-eyed. I just think it’s kind of funny and it makes me laugh to myself every now and then, which is nice.

Like I said, I’m not letting myself hope that my wife will change her mind. Of course I would welcome that but for now I feel a strong need to focus on Me. I cannot control her choices. A dear friend counseled me to seek Heavenly Father’s will for me and focus on that. I’m trying to do that and it helps. One day at a time helps too. Also, choosing to trust Heavenly Father that I can be healthy and happy without understanding Jess’s decision or His direction to her… that helps too. I feel His loving support now as I write this.

Thanks for reading. I feel better.

Hot Showers

mormonad-you-are-never-alone

 

I realized recently that I’ve been afraid to let go of my addictions.

For most of my life I’ve depended on them for immediate relief from stress, anger, loneliness, boredom, anxiety, fear, and the list goes on. My addictions were reliably consistent—I always felt relief when I acted out. Of course, that relief was fleeting and was always quickly replaced by remorse, self-loathing, and an increase of everything I was trying to avoid in the first place.

I think my addictions are like hot water. Life happens and sometimes it stinks. Sometimes it really hurts. It’s as if the pain of this life makes me feel cold and desperate for warmth. As it turns out, hot water feels pretty darn amazing when I’m cold.

When I take a hot shower on a cold winter morning I like to take my time. It feels great. Why would I ever want to step out of that warm shower?

My addictions have been my hot shower. I’ve become completely dependent on them. I’ve used them—pornography, lust, and sex—in a futile attempt to warm my soul from the cold pains of my life.

Turns out hot water is not a good way to stay warm.

Hot water only warms me so long as I’m immersed or doused in it. The second I step out of my warm shower, the warmth immediately begins to leave my body. In fact, the warmth leaves my body faster than it would have otherwise. It leaves faster because my body is wet.

When my addictions were at their worst, I was desperately trying to stay in my warm shower as constantly as possible. I didn’t know how to deal with life any other way. When I attempted to abstain from my hot shower the cold quickly became unbearable. I thought I needed the hot water and couldn’t survive without it.

Today I know that my God has the power to keep me warm. He has the power to calm my soul and soothe my wounds.

Yes, I could turn to my addictions for a quick hot shower. Such a course of action would be a guaranteed instant fix… except for the part when the hot shower ends and I suddenly find myself bare, exposed, and freezing. When that happens, I’ve historically done one of two things out of desperation: turn on the hot water again, or turn to my God for warmth and healing.

Today I truly stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me. He never turns me away from His warmth. He never tells me to go away. He is always there for me when I sincerely seek Him.

Today I am warm and I am learning to depend on my God for warmth, strength, and health. I need Him! I need Him more than I need my addictions. My addictions will never warm me or take care of me the way my God does. My Heavenly Father loves me infinitely and eternally.

Looking back, I do feel regret that I didn’t learn this sooner. But I also feel so grateful that I know it now. I feel so grateful that my Father in Heaven has never and will never give up on me. He’ll never abandon me. I struggle to express what that means to me. It’s changed my life.

I no longer depend on hot showers for warmth. Today I depend on my God, and He always provides. I love Him!

Video

“Don’t You Quit”

As an addict I watch this video and I can’t help but think of the frustration and despair that accompanies relapse, especially while sincerely striving to abstain.

If you’re not an addict or if you’re an addict who doesn’t know this yet, please know that I’m talking precisely about a lack of willpower. By definition, addicts don’t have willpower sufficient to stop ourselves from acting out.

Continue reading →

Honesty

understand-despair-Savior

 

After two years of attending addiction recovery meetings and nearly fifteen years of wrestling this beast called addiction, I can finally and gratefully admit defeat.

This is Step 1 of the addiction recovery program, originally inspired by the Alcoholics Anonymous’ (“AA”) 12 Steps:

Admit that you, of yourself, are powerless to overcome your addictions and that your life has become unmanageable.

I did not want to admit that I am powerless to overcome my addictions and that I can’t control of my life. That concept goes against what I’ve believed all my life. In many ways it contradicts what my culture (including common but not official beliefs within Mormonism) espouses…

Self-reliance. Independence. A strong will can overcome anything. When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. There’s nothing you can’t accomplish. God will never give you more than you can handle. Some accomplishments might take longer than others, but anyone can ultimately achieve the same things with enough time and hard work. You just have to want it badly enough.

I tell you what, breaking free of those beliefs is tough. I’ve struggled vainly to hold on to them. I completely bought into the idea that I can do this, I can overcome my addiction… “keep on trucking, Michael, because you can do this. Just work harder. You’ll figure this out.” I meant well by trying to believe these ideas. I thought I was supposed to.

I am so, so very grateful that God is teaching me to abandon these powerfully appealing false doctrines.

Here’s an excerpt from the LDS Addiction Recovery Manual:

“… the addiction was destroying our lives. When we honestly looked at the past, we admitted that nothing we had tried on our own had worked. We acknowledged how the addiction had only gotten worse. We realized how much our addictions had damaged relationships and robbed us of any sense of worth. At this point, we took the first step toward freedom and recovery by finding the courage to admit that we were not just dealing with a problem or a bad habit. We finally admitted the truth that our lives had become unmanageable and that we needed help to overcome our addictions. The amazing thing about this honest realization of defeat was that recovery finally began (page 1, emphasis added).

I just can’t get enough of those words! An honest realization of my defeat has liberated me from my pride and self will.

Until one month ago I would’ve challenged such notions… “Defeat? Who finds inspiration from admitting defeat? No, I’m strong! I can do this! I just haven’t figured it out yet, but I will!”  I toiled and cried and doubted and clawed my way through my addiction. I white-knuckled with a fierce commitment to sobriety. And I relapsed countless times. Interestingly, I thought I had already completed Step 1, but I hadn’t admitted defeat.

I pleaded and begged for God to help me. And He did help me. He blessed me with debilitating depression. He blessed me to feel and be utterly spent. He blessed me with exhaustion. He loves me so much that He let me break. He let me lose. He blessed me to see that I lost my war on addiction. I was defeated.

Never, not in my entire existence (I honestly feel that I can make this statement) have I ever felt so defeated and beaten as I did one month ago. I didn’t have any strength left. I had nothing left to give. I’ve ran up mountains (literally). I’ve served a full-time mission with every ounce of energy I had in me (I slept for a very long time after returning home). I’ve worked forty hours a week while attending college full-time with a wife and a baby. I’ve been poor enough to worry about how we were going to eat our next meal. I’ve contemplated suicide. But nothing beat me like addiction beat me. This was my very own “rock bottom,” as AA puts it.

In the very moment that I conceded defeat—in the very moment—God was there to lift me up. I didn’t feel a surge of hope or faith that everything would be alright. I only felt love from Him. I felt that despite my complete defeat, He was not condemning me. He was not forsaking me. In my moment of despair, He showed me that He will never stop loving me. That’s when I finally surrendered to my God. Yes, addiction won and I lost. But that didn’t have to be the end of it. No, I have the most powerful and loving Being in the universe on my side, and He’ll never abandon me. I now feel like I know this truth better than I know my own name.

So I’m no longer fighting this battle on my own because I’m no longer fighting according to my plans. I’m no longer struggling to win my way. My way lost. My way led to deeper addiction, more anger, and hardened pride. My will and not Thine be done was my way. “I’ll figure this out, and I’ll ask you for help when I really need it.” I’m leaving all that behind now, and I’ve never felt so free.

Now I work the steps of recovery every day and together with my Lord and Savior we are winning! We are moving forward. I still have rough days. I still have need to repent almost every minute, but I’m no longer losing against my addiction because I’m no longer trying to fight it on my own. I don’t have to win or lose anymore. I just need to learn to trust my Heavenly Father and in His power to deliver me.

And here’s the miracle: He knew that I would lose. He knew that I would desperately need divine help. He knew that I would literally need saving. That’s why He gave me a Savior! That’s why He offered His Only Begotten Son as a sacrifice for my sins and fallen nature. He didn’t let His Son die because He thought I was a failure but because He knew I would fail, and He couldn’t let me fail without any hope of recovery. That doesn’t contradict the fact that He thinks the world of me as one of His children—it supports it! It’s the epitome of loving support.

God let His Son, Jesus Christ, die for me because He loves me. And Jesus Christ died for me because He loves me, too. I am that important to God. I am worth the best blood this world has ever seen (I think I heard someone use that expression before, but I can’t find it).

Twenty-seven days ago I went to http://www.arpsupport.org out of desperation. I asked for a sponsor and I got one. I thank my Father in Heaven for leading me to do that. My sponsor helps me to be rigorously honest and not overlook the details. He’s helping me work the steps of recovery thoroughly. He shows me that he cares and doesn’t condemn. He understands what I’m going through and he’s helping me come to know that Jesus Christ understands what I’m going through.

As it turns out, the steps really do work when I work the steps. I need to work them constantly, every day. That simply means I need my Savior constantly, every day. My Higher Power is my only way out of this, and I’m learning to do it His way.

Tonight in a group addiction support meeting I heard the most profound and sincere declaration that I’ve ever heard, and I heard it from a fellow addict in recovery: “Today I know that God loves me.” He was overcome with emotion, as were we all. I’m so grateful God led me to that meeting tonight so that I could learn from my fellow addict brother. I add my testimony to his, that today I know that God loves me. I owe everything to Him. I love Him!

“I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God. Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things” (Book of Mormon, Alma 26:11-12).

It’s been a while

Hello. I haven’t written anything on here for quite some time. I’m feeling tempted to act out right now, so I thought I’d do something to keep my mind on recovery. I already feel better. I had forgotten how much writing on here helps me break my patterns of isolation.

About five months ago a bout of severe depression settled in my mind and heart. It really felt like something snapped in my brain and spirit. I’ve dealt with major depressive episodes before, but I’m still surprised by how completely it drains my body, mind, and soul. It takes away my hope and leaves me inert… I can’t focus, can’t think, can’t feel or even want anything. It’s truly debilitating.

I don’t want my blog to leave anyone, including myself, feeling burdened instead of uplifted. I just felt I needed to share what I’ve been experiencing—not in the attitude of complaining, but in an effort to find healing.  If I’ve learned anything from attending group recovery meetings, it’s that recovery involves sharing and vulnerability. Somehow it’s liberating when done as an expression of faith and with a desperate desire to move forward. So, thank you for listening. Sharing doesn’t work so well without a listener.

I just went to arpsupport.org and requested a sponsor. Of course, I have no way of knowing with absolute certainty that working with a stranger who’s found recovery from addiction will help me obtain the same, but I believe it will. I feel weary and I think it couldn’t hurt to have an additional voice of hope and encouragement in my life. I’ll be sure to share how it goes for me.

I do feel a kindling of faith and hope within me. It feels good. I haven’t felt them in a long time. I’m grateful to have them again, as I definitely didn’t will them into my being. The Lord has been good to me and my family. I’m now taking a dosage of anti-depressant medication that seems to be finally taking effect. I feel more able and less worn out. Modern medicine is a miracle.

A few weeks after the depression had taken root, I heard a talk that helped me feel less alone. I’ll share it here. It’s called ‘Like a Broken Vessel,’ and it was given by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. I’m grateful I heard his words when I did. May they bring some light into your life as they did mine.