Step 2 - Awakening

Once upon a time, there was a sleeping princess. She either pricked her finger on a spinning wheel spindle or bit a poisoned apple. As a result, she was in a deathlike sleep. For one, the sleep lasted one hundred years; for the other, we aren't exactly sure. They thought she was dead and put her in a glass coffin. In the fairy tales, the princess didn't have to do anything but lie there and look beautiful until a prince came along, fell in love with her, and kissed her. AWAKENING! And they lived happily ever after. (Unless you have seen Into the Woods when you discover life after the happily ever after.)

Life isn't a fairy tale.

For an addict, life is more like a nightmare. It's just that we get confused about which part of our lives is the nightmare and which part is worth experiencing. We've self-medicated so long that the "sober" moments feel like the nightmare but in reality, it is our addictions that form our nightmares. Deep inside, we know that or we wouldn't be fighting so hard for recovery.

Awakening is becoming fully aware of that fact and realizing the power that Christ/our Higher Power has in our lives to restore us to spiritual health/sanity. It is becoming aware of Hope.

So how am I more aware of Jesus Christ and His power in my life than I was? Good question.

I am a person full of dichotomies - polar opposites.

• I have always believed in Christ/I have doubted Christ.
• Part of me believes absolutely/part of me fears He is the brownies that turned out not to exist. (See previous posts.)
• Part of me has absolute faith in the atonement/part of me believes the atonement applies to everyone but me.
• Part of me believes I can overcome my addictions/part of me fears that I have already fallen down so many times that I have proven, in the end, I will just fall again.

At this moment, I feel quieter - more at peace. I'm trying to believe. Does this mean I've experienced this Awakening finally? I really don't know. I know I've felt more in touch with the Spirit many times during the past, but I hadn't faced the truth of the addiction then. It was more of a quick fix for sin. This time, maybe it is an Awakening because I'm seeing things for what they are AND I'm regaining peace and trust in the Lord.

This time, I'm in it for the long term; so maybe the princess has awakened after all.

Step 2 - Healing

Do you ever feel broken? I do - all the time. I guess that is because I am. But I am beginning to realize that we all are, to some extent. Some of us suffer physical breakage. When I say I am broken, I think I mean my mental health. I am drawn to things that cause me pain and sorrow and loneliness as if they would explain why I already hurt. Those are areas where my soul and my mind need healing, so that I can feel a part of humanity; so that I can feel loved by the Lord.

I need healing to overcome resentment. Sometimes I'm amazed at how much resentment I feel and at how much confusion that resentment causes. As you may have guessed from my previous entries, I'm scared to death of the concept of sex and yet I resent that I can't partake of the "joys" of the flesh because I am single and really do believe that the Lord meant it when He gave the commandment against adultery and fornication. That leaves me on the outside. Of course there is that terror as well. And the guilt for using pain for sexual release to replace them. It is all so confused.

I need healing so that I can feel there is a place for me and a purpose for my existence. I need healing so that I don't feel alone when I am surrounded by people who love me.

You know when you have a cut or a scrape? Your body gets busy and starts healing it. God created a wonderful mechanism for healing. The body stitches away and creates a protective coating we call a scab which covers the area while it heals. Then as the miracle of healing finishes, the scab wears away leaving the healed area exposed.

Not with me. Oh, my body works the way it was intended to work. The fault lays in my impatience or my obsessiveness - one or the other. As soon as the scab starts to form, I start picking at it. I run my fingernail under the edges until it breaks away and eventually the scab gives up and pulls off, leaving my unhealed wound open to the world. My body sighs and tries again. I rip away at the new scab and the battle continues. Eventually my body usually wins, but at a price. I have a much worse scar than I would have had, if only I would have let my body heal at nature's pace. And I never learn. I just can't stand to leave the scab alone.

It's the same way with my mental health. I find it hard to accept healing. I beat myself about the head and shoulders (figuratively at least) and make myself miserable, tearing myself down, minimizing my progress, not allowing myself to feel the happiness that life is offering.

Somehow I need to find joy in my being here on earth. I have joy in my family; but I rail against my circumstances and against whatever it is in me that is so overwhelmed that I seem incapable of doing what others do easily and taking control of those circumstances that seem to take the joy from life - circumstances which I CHOSE, by the way.

I let the trials beat me to a pulp, until I feel incapable of taking any action that would alter the circumstances in a positive way or at least move me forward in the path of those chosen circumstances. Instead of taking control and even enjoying the path I've chosen - a path not many have the opportunity to travel, I feel like I am drowning amidst powerful tides that carry me along.

If I can turn to the Lord, every morning, and make Him my partner in my day, perhaps I can feel the strength of His power enough to heal the wounds that fester because I keep picking at them. Perhaps I can feel his redeeming power enough to resist the moments of temptation and spiritual death that tear me away from my goal.

The last couple of days, I have felt the darkening of depression. I have come to realize that this is one of my major triggers. Knowing that, I realize I need to cling to that healing power right now. As I feel like the waters are starting to rise around me, I must cling with all my faith.

Perhaps I can survive.

Step 1 - When Honesty leads to Hope

Addicts don't like change. At least this one doesn't. Change is bad. Change means doing something. Change hurts. And... change means... DOING something.

A friend in group gave me an article sometime back that talked about sobriety programs (or any addiction program) being based on "doing." That's where we get lost. We can think things to death; but we aren't going to improve until we do something. I know. It took me a year just to start writing; and that was the easy thing. Well, not for me, but surely for some people.

I found out something very interesting. As I got closer to feeling that I had really worked through Step One, my brain started screaming at me. "Wait! Don't think I quite got that. Let's go back and review. You know, I don't think I'm being REALLY honest yet...." And on, and on, and on. I think I was trying to set a record for the longest time on Step One. Because as long as you are still working on Step One, you are no closer to the dreaded Step Four (moral inventory). The fact that Step Two is going to bring Peace doesn't seem to matter. It is closer to Step Four and should therefore be avoided.

*Heart pounding, breathing rapid, patient's vitals entering danger zone*

But there comes a time when you have to accept that you have done the one thing required: you have admitted you have an addiction and you are helpless to beat it by yourself. Now it is time to graduate - to move on. Don't worry. You'll have to revisit Step One many times, probably. We all need tune-ups. But right now, we need to move on.

I decided on my rite of passage. I'm working both Steps Four (gulp) and revisiting Step One because of discovering my new addiction while writing this blog. I decided I wasn't going to let myself get stuck in Step One mode for another year. I decided to move on to Step Two by being Honest with the two friends that were still weighing so heavily on my heart.

I'm still alive; although now my lie has been laid bare, effectively destroying my protector in IMVU. I feel a little scared because I know I can't hide behind an imaginary protector anymore. I have to face reality.

They were amazingly kind and understanding. The lie has lost its power. I hope I will be able to keep their friendship. We said we would - in a place where I would be comfortable. I didn't explain what didn't need to be told; I just cleared out the lies. I want to give them a little time to think - to make sure they are okay. All I know is that I left feeling like the world hadn't come to an end.

So now I am ready to move forward. HOPE. It sounds delightful.

Step 1 - Humility

I don't own an analog clock. That's the type of clock with real hands that ticks away the minutes. You can hear each click as the hands slowly move around the face. Now the whole world has gone digital and we don't hear the passage of time like we used to. Right now I need the old style; I need to hear the tick, tick, tick. I need it to sound with my heartbeat to remind me that I've survived another day.

For the last digital half-hour, I've sat at my computer, trying to pull together my thoughts. It has been difficult because they are avoiding contact. My heart and my head are still mad at each other and I've having problems getting them to make peace. They will eventually. That is the way of the world. And in this case, it was necessary. Tough love.

But my heart is screaming out "humiliation" and my soul is trying to convince it that this was "humility." And my heart isn't buying the difference.

In Addiction Recovery we say that "individuals finally become willing to abstain when the pain of the problem becomes worse than the pain of the solution." That pain is where the humiliation lies. Doing something about it is humility. The problem is getting stuck in the humiliation - where the pain isn't quite exquisite enough to bring us down to humility.

Before I admitted that I had an addiction, I had a very warped view of the world. Everyone around me was in perfect control - for good or bad - they had control. I was the exception. And that made me weak and evil. It didn't matter what other people thought of me. Since discovering reality (although I obviously try to abandon it on a regular basis), I've learned one important truth: I'm not alone in my struggle.

I've meet good people who have lost their jobs, their spouses, their children, their self-respect: everything they valued. The humiliation - the pain - has finally forced them to face their "demons". And they usually hate themselves. Humiliation does that to you.

In my case, my humiliation was secret - my addiction being so hidden that only my religious leader and my counselor knew and they knew only because I told them.

Group has a fascinating effect. As I sat for months, listening but not talking, hearing others describing my feelings, finally opening up myself, I figured it out. Group helped me take the humiliation I felt and realize it had changed into humility, because of their unqualified acceptance of me.

So maybe that's the key. Humiliation is what we do to ourselves. Humility is what God/our higher power can change it into once we are ready.

Humiliation brings self-hatred, depression, misery, and desperation. Humility brings change.

What I think I've just discovered is that it is a cycle. Right now, I'm back in the humiliation cycle - not completely. Just in one area; just where my heart is still aching; just where Step 9 is going to bite me coming back around. I didn't want to take the step I took the other night. I guess the pain of the problem wasn't great enough. But maybe the fear for my sanity was. Whatever the reason, I took it. And the pain was more than I could imagine. But there is more to the story - the humiliation that I haven't overcome - that I don't know what to do with - that I'm going to have to deal with - that has to lead to humility: somehow.

As I was leaving, I lied to them. (If you are lost - please refer to my last post. If you don't, then no compass is going to help.) Because I had two characters, I had to use two computers. This meant I could only have one character leave the room at a time. After I had left, I went to take my escort out when they stopped him/me to ask a few questions. I wasn't prepared for that. I had said my goodbyes and my heart was dead. Their questions had to do with reality and my answers were absolutely truthful and absolutely lies at the exact same time because I couldn't get the real truth out. I couldn't say that it was still me talking to them; that I loved them but had gotten so lost that I had deceived them. In real life, I'm known for being truthful. I can't tell a lie to save my soul. And suddenly I couldn't tell the truth. When did I disappear? When did I die? Somehow I missed it.

Step 9 deals with making restitution - making things right. How am I ever going to be able to do that? Oh, there are many other layers to my onion. Layers that are trying to protect people I love who could be hurt. Suddenly, things that have been my joys are the very things that are making me feel empty - hollowed out.

I wish this were a television show. It would all work out. I know, because I saw it. His name was Barclay and he served aboard the Starship Enterprise during the Next Generation series. He was addicted to the holodeck. He survived and made something of his life. *run credits*

Step 1 - Honesty

Last night when I went to bed - pretty close to on time, by the way, my eyes were swollen and red from crying. This morning they had cleared a lot - on the outside.

I guess I need to back up; starting at the ending doesn't explain things very well. If you've read my prior posts, you are aware that I've discovered I'm fighting a new addiction, one that is conveniently sneaking into the hole left by ripping out my old addiction.

Last night, I stuck my hand into my chest and ripped my heart out. At least that is what it felt like. Hopefully I can fill that hole with positive things. Right now it just hurts. I don't even feel like writing but maybe that is when I need to the most. Besides, I am not sure anyone is really reading this, so why worry.

Because my addiction is tied up with emotional injuries, I have seen a therapist on and off for many years.

(Note to world: I recommend you get a therapist who is wise enough and honest enough to tell you what you need to hear and not what you want to hear. It's really easy to palm off the "You're okay, whatever you want to do is okay" pap - no change, no pain. Accept yourself as you are. Love yourself as you are. Well that's just great. And while you are lying in the gutter, drunk out of your mind or strung out on drugs watching the last shreds of your life fade away - keep telling yourself that. Oh, your addiction isn't chemical? Neither is mine. Doesn't make a difference. It's the same thing. An addiction is an addiction - it destroys and don't believe anyone who tells you it's just a choice. The whole point of an addiction is that you have given away the choice. So find someone who cares enough to go through the trauma with you.)

We discussed my recent "replacement-addiction" to IMVU. I was surprised by some of the discussion. Her concern wasn't just how much time I was spending in the virtual reality world. It was much deeper. In Monday's post, I used the onion metaphor to try and get at the problem. I've kept peeling away this week and it has gotten... painful.

If you haven't read Monday's post, you are about to enter the Twilight Zone. I suggest you go back and read it. Really. Of course to understand Monday's post, I suggest you read "In the Beginning" which is... long - five parts. Oh well. Welcome to the Twilight Zone.

There are two vampire rooms I felt comfortable - no make that welcome and loved in. My character would show up and people would cheer. Wow! What an incredible high. I was never popular. Not in grammar school, not in high school, not in college. Yet there, for some bizarre reason, on IMVU I'm popular. Especially my vampire character. And she is gentle. Never bites without it being offered. You know the type.

The one room made me uncomfortable because of an anti-religious feel - two crosses that people could crucify themselves on - that really disturbed me. But I would try to ignore them and I met two people that I really liked. Fun people who, knowing my age, accepted me and liked me. They also liked my alter ego - my boyfriend that allowed me to be flirty without worrying about anyone making crude comments. Too bad he was just another aspect of me - but he worked beautifully. (He was also mortal. Strange that...) Again, I was so into character, that I was no longer myself. And I enjoyed myself - all except those crosses. We danced and chatted and laughed.

The other room was originally a vampire room with a dom/sub aspect. First time there I told them I didn't believe in masters or slaves. That was fine with them. The strange thing is, that for all my screwed up desire for pain, that part of it is irrelevant - even bothersome. I don't even understand it. But again, I met the owners of the room and we became very good friends. She was sweet and full of life (other than being a vampire of course) and he was intelligent and fascinated with learning new things. That one got me, because I am fascinated with everything. I love to learn about science, art, culture, people... the list goes on. So while I danced in the room - with my consort avatar - we chatted about wonderful things.

But still there was the dark side of the room - the side that pulled on my addiction. There were the slaves that would occasionally get into sexual play and I would feel so out of place and guilty and....

We talked, my counselor and I. We talked about the things I didn't want to talk about. Not about my fun dancing and talking and discussing the universe and quantum mechanics and art and nature and people. We talked about S/M rooms and getting lost in role playing.

At the very beginning of my blog - waaaayyy back, I said I was a good actress. I started my two characters on IMVU as characters from a book I've written. For most of my friends - real life ones, ones through my church group, designer friends - it was not a problem. For my friends in my vampire room - I got lost in my character. I wanted to get lost in my character. It is as if I wanted to convince them that she was the real vampire - her story the real truth of vampires - and when the book came out - they would know the real thing. It wasn't a game. I was just lost inside her, inside him.

Last night, I went back to that room, with a very specific purpose in mind. I accompanied myself - in other words, both my characters went together as we usually do. Only the master of the room was there - not the mistress. We danced for awhile. He played slow music just for us so we could slow dance in the spots that I love so much. I cried knowing what I was there to do.

Finally, as it got late and my newly recommitted bedtime got closer, I said I wished the mistress of the room was there was well. (I am purposely avoiding names because I have grown to truly love these two young people.) I told him I had come to say goodbye. He asked me to wait and the mistress came quickly.

It was a very sad and sweet goodbye. I tried to explain but how can you explain insanity and addiction. I explained that I am different - an asexual person (which is true - my addiction is to pain which brings a sexual release of sorts - but not to sex which scares me to death) and that as much as they had made me welcome, as much as I loved coming to the room and dancing, as much as I LOVED their company - the room was not good for me. I tried to explain what I could not explain. And I said goodbye.

I cried for a long time. I was surprised at how bad it hurt. All I could think of was the scripture in Mark 9:43 that says "And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched."

I wish I could have been more honest. I'm afraid when I finally get to Step 9, I will have to face them. Until then, I have to find a more secure footing in reality and realize it has something of value to offer.