There is No Step Zero

Gettysburg, USA, at sunset. Copyright Michael Hargiss.

I had an important realization last night while I was cycling around the outskirts of Gettysburg and listening to Russell Brand’s book on the 12 steps.

I’ve been feeling a growing desire and faith to work the 12 steps again. I’ve also felt discouraged by my acting out. I’ve also realized I don’t feel ready to stop my addiction. I know it’s bad for me, I know it’s caused me nothing but pain and heartache, I know another relapse isn’t going to make me feel better, I know one more “wank” as Brand puts it isn’t going to solve a damn thing. But it sure is an effective distraction “from now, for now.” And I am afraid of going through this divorce without it. I am afraid of not having this powerful distraction. How weird is that? I mean I think it’s understandable and yet it makes zero sense. I am literally afraid to stop doing the crap that got me here. But I need those distractions (or so I think). Truthfully, I need them as long as I’m not working toward resolving the pain from which I need to distract myself. What a terribly destructive catch-22.

So lately as I’ve wanted to work the 12 steps again, I think to myself, “How can I work the 12 steps if I’m not even willing to abstain?” The idea seems dishonest to me. Disingenuous. I am a lot of things but I am also honest, and I feel like a hypocrite at the thought of working the 12 steps to addiction recovery while not being willing to let go of my addiction.

I was pondering all this while cycling along a small paved road outside Gettysburg last night, stone monuments passing by to my right and the sun setting to my left, the orange light warming the skin on my arms. (Yes, I’m a rather romantic exerciser.) In that moment the Holy Spirit whispered a new idea to my mind and heart. “You can work the steps anyway, and working the steps will help you find the willingness and faith to abstain.”

It was so simple and reassuring. I couldn’t help but smile! I can work the steps and I should work the steps. I will never get better until I work the steps.

It’s as though I’m in a deep hole (my addiction) and the Lord has given me a supernatural shovel (the 12 steps) to dig out, and He’s even offering to dig with me! So, what should I do? Start digging, right? No? I should plop down in my muddy pit and despair that I’m still hesitant to let go of my carnal desires and favorite sins? “I want to dig but I also don’t want to, so I shouldn’t dig until I fully want to.” ???

And what is faith if not a hesitant but trusting leap into the unknown? What is trust without doubt? Trust without a reason to doubt isn’t trust. A step of faith without a reason to hesitate isn’t faith. A step of faith with reason to hesitate but stepping forward anyway is faith! Trusting someone while I have a gnawing fear of disappointment but choosing to trust anyway is trust!

I can effectively work the 12 steps while being willing to be willing to forsake my addiction. What a liberating concept! I can exercise faith in my God’s ability to save me in the midst of my fear that I’m not going to function without my addiction.

And you know what really excites me about this? As I was pondering this new truth (new to me), I felt the Lord saying to me, “I will give you a new heart and a new spirit as you work these steps and repent. That’s why I gave them to Bill—not as a reward for abstaining but as a means to abstain.”  (Bill is the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous and the first to publish the 12 steps to addiction recovery.)

Isn’t that the point of the 12 steps to addiction recovery? To work through all the heaping, smelly piles of crap I’ve accumulated during and before this addiction? To give me a fighting chance at recovery instead of sitting in a rowboat throwing marbles at a battleship

There is no “Step 0: Abstain from your addiction for three weeks and worthily partake of the sacrament.”  (!!!)  There is no prerequisite to the 12 Steps. There is no prerequisite to faith in Jesus Christ (or whatever name you give your Higher Power) and repentance. Faith in my Higher Power and repentance are the prerequisites to peace. Working the 12 steps are the prerequisites to addiction recovery.

Keeping things simple feels good, and it feels good because it’s empowering to me. As my mission president and his wife frequently testified, “The gospel of Jesus Christ is true because it works.” I’ve worked the 12 steps before and when I did I enjoyed the longest period of sobriety and active recovery I’ve ever had. And I can do this honestly. I can honestly acknowledge the dichotomy inside me. I can honestly be willing to be willing, and I believe my God will change my heart to be willing inasmuch as I thoroughly trust Him.

Step 1 …

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.

Lasting Connections Kill my Cravings

My past sponsor shared this article with me. The writer apparently knows addicts and grew up around addiction, so I think he relates well to those who have also been affected by it.

The author insightfully concludes—and I paraphrase—that addicts respond positively to love and social engagement, not ultimatums and threats of cutting off contact. As I consider my reasons (i.e. triggers) for seeking out pornography, I find that the writer’s insights are true.

(Please note that I don’t think a spouse’s or significant other’s consideration to end a relationship equivalent to motivation by fear. I feel that spouses of addicts always have the truthful right to end harmful relationships when necessary. They certainly aren’t obligated to remain victims of abuse, lies, and the other results of addiction.)

The most powerful antidote to my addiction has been Love. Not just a periodic, “I love you, Michael! You can do this!” but more particularly, acts of love. Learning to see and properly interpret the genuine expressions of love from people in my life has been surprisingly challenging for me, but it’s also changing everything for me!

I find that the more I focus on building relationships, the less I obsess with destructive thoughts and behavior. Restoring and creating meaningful relationships fills my heart. Its effects are real and lasting, not counterfeit like pornography’s.

It’s interesting to me… I’m learning that I crave my addiction when I’m actually craving an emotional connection. Pornography simply cannot provide that.

Of course, this is easier understood when I’m not experiencing withdrawal or intense emotional pain. For this reason I find it helpful to proactively engage in building sincere friendships and familial relationships. And in the moment of crisis, a simple phone call does wonders.

Click here to read the aforementioned article.

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).

Quote

I can’t, God can, I’ll let Him

“…handing everything over to Christ does not, of course, mean that you stop trying. To trust Him means, of course, trying to do all that He says. There would be no sense in saying you trusted a person if you would not take his advice. Thus if you have really handed yourself over to Him, it must follow that you are trying to obey Him. But trying in a new way, a less worried way. Not doing these things in order to be saved, but because He has begun to save you already.”

C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity, p.147)