Step 3 – Fasting and prayer

So, I have come back to the beginning of this particular circle and find myself asking again: “How do you eat an elephant?” As I see it, I have one of three choices.

I can decide I can’t do this and walk away from the recovery program, intent on trying to fix myself by myself. Of course, if I am walking away because I can’t trust God, then why do I even care if I fix myself? It comes back to the fact that my soul has been in such pain that I don’t want to go back. And if you have been following this blog, you know how successful I have been over the years dealing with this problem by myself.

My second choice is to sit here (my here, not yours) and continue torturing myself with the “can I, can’t I” questions that are keeping me from sleeping and are putting my heart in a constant state of panic attack where I feel like an alien is going to jump out of my chest at any moment. Frankly, I am not receiving any answers, not feeling any more at peace, and not coming to any conclusions. I’m just miserable. I am still (for right now anyway) straddling the right side of the fence, but how long can I keep that up if I can’t resolve this question.

My third choice is a little harder to explain. When an infant starts to walk, I don’t think there is a long thought process worrying over each moment. “If I stand up, chances are mom and dad won’t bother to catch me when I fall because they want me to realize that falling hurts so I’d better learn to stand. And if I actually succeed in standing and begin moving my feet, my momentum will cause me to walk but when I fall, mom and dad are going to say: ‘We told you that you weren’t ready to walk yet, but would you listen to us? Of course not. And now you see what has happened?” Instead, in that perfect little mind a goal appears and the infant takes whatever move it is capable of in order to achieve that goal. And if the muscles aren’t quite ready, the babe tries again and again until the muscles are ready and the child achieves the goal. The parents patiently allow the child to fall and fall again, while hopefully protecting the child from serious harm. Why? Because they know that, in falling, the child learns to get up again. I guess what I am saying is that my third choice is to take the faltering steps forward in imperfect knowledge and imperfect faith, knowing that I am going to fall down but, that in doing so, I’ll still be a step closer to my goal. Hopefully my falling down won’t cost me my sobriety. Hopefully it will strengthen my faith.

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the phrase, “put it to the test.” In today’s fast-moving society, we seem to be losing the significance of that concept. Computer hardware and software changes so quickly that it is obsolete by the time it hits the shelves, so quality control testing is frequently substandard. As a result, companies create bug-fixes on an on-going basis. Look at products such as the ill-conceived Windows ME or Windows VISTA that were so filled with glitches that the next version of Windows was being prepared before those versions could be fixed. VISTA users have migrated back to XP in droves. “Put it to the test” just takes too much time for us. And yet, that is the eternal principal that I find staring back at me right now. President Gordon B. Hinckley of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint spoke with a group of church members in Paris, France in 2004 and said: “I plead with you, my brothers and sisters, that if you have any doubt concerning any doctrine of this Church, that you put it to the test. Try it. Live the principle. Get on your knees and pray about it, and God will bless you with a knowledge of the truth of this work.” The concept wasn’t lost on me. Basically I translated it into: If you want to know if something is true, live it and pray about it. Then you’ll know. I guess, like most of the world, I rely too heavily on my own mental abilities, and quite frankly, they are getting me nowhere right now.

So I’m taking a tentative deep breath – breathing is always good. I choose number three. I’m going to take the steps and try to put my life in the Lord’s hands. I’m going to pray the father’s prayer from Mark: “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

Fasting is one of those steps. There are a lot of different thoughts about it. I used to be a lot better with it than I am now. As a person who has a weight problem (just another addiction folks – nothing to see here, although since working the program I’ve lost over 40 pounds) fasting is easy to mix up with dieting. I don’t think they are in any way related; especially when you fast and then gorge. I think that fasting has to do with submitting yourself to the will of God. Most of us don’t want to feel hungry, even for a few minutes. With fasting, we make a conscious decision to deny ourselves something that our body wants in order to show a willingness to take an action step – to humble our bodies – to focus on something other than our physical needs. So if all I’m thinking about during a fast is how hungry I am and how much I’m going to eat once the fast is over, I might as well not bother. Rather, I need to focus on using the time to communicate, to pray, to try to form the connection that is obviously lacking. Sigh. That’s a whole new world.

Yet prayer is supposed to be our greatest defense. If we can bring ourselves to pray when we are overcome with temptation, we can beat the temptation back. The problem is, and I’m speaking for myself here, when temptation hits, I don’t want to fight back. I don’t want to pray and I want my addiction. So prayer has to be solidly in place long before the temptation hits, as does fasting I guess. We have to be prepared enough so that we don’t turn on the Spirit and command Him to leave us alone with our addiction. To be willing to pray when we don’t really want to resist but before we are too far gone to listen to the Spirit is to humble ourselves and partake of the redeeming sacrifice before we become the aggressor.

What do you know? They were right all along. The best offense really is a good defense.

Right now, I’m a tragic case of multiple personalities. On my pain addiction, I’ve become strong – at least right now. I’m able to yield my heart to God and resist the temptation of my addiction. On my IMVU addiction, I’m gaining ground. I’m severed my ties with the rooms where I shouldn’t be but I’m still spending time in virtual reality when I should be working on other things that are far more important (and real) – procrastinating and even avoiding life. My food addiction is generally doing better but when I get frustrated, I still binge. But I would have to give myself failing marks on getting to bed on time and taking care of my health. So it’s still two steps forward, one step back.

But at least, for today, I don’t wish a mountain would land on top of me. And that is an improvement.

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 2 - The gift of grace

¹⁵ For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.
¹⁶ Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.

(Hebrews 4:15-16)

Grace is a concept that has given the world many problems - and wars. Grace versus Works seems to be a favorite argument between religions; yet the scriptures state both are required. Maybe that's one thing we addicts do understand better than some. We can't do it alone, but we still have to do our part.

My addiction recovery book quotes a bible dictionary's definition of grace:

"divine means of help or strength" given through
the "bounteous mercy and love of Jesus Christ"

Basically, what I get out of that is that, once we've done what we can, His grace is there to lift us up and take us the rest of the way: IF WE ARE WILLING TO LEAN ON HIM.

I don't know about any of the rest of you, or even if there is anyone else reading this, but I am like a pendulum. I swing from one side to the other, as radically as gravity and momentum will allow.

When I was young, there was a commercial on television. I don't remember it clearly (thanks to my Swiss-cheese memory) but the tag line was "Grandpa, I'd rather do it myself!" That's me. I'm there standing under the open heavens, thumping my chest and declaring that I can do this all myself. I have to be able to - after all, that's why I came to earth: to prove myself.

Then the pendulum swings. (I could sing an old song here but I'll let you off the hook.)

And there I am in a heap on the ground, unable to even look up. "I can't do it. I want this to be over. I've failed so badly already. Can't you take the trial away? I'm turning it over to you now. Wake me up when it's over."

Somewhere there is a point of balance: when we've done all we can and the Savior's Grace takes over.

I felt it once that I can remember. Maybe that's why I need to do this blog. So that I won't forget.

Usually when things get bad, an addict turns to their addiction. This year I lost my mother. (I've talked about it in prior posts so, once again, feel free to avoid Twilight Zone moments by hitting my archives.)

Amazingly, when mom died, I felt there was a period of time when I was protected from my addiction because the temptations were not even there at the time when I was at my lowest. For once in my life, Grace literally lifted me away from my addiction at a time when I would have been incapable of dealing with it.

That protection was not permanent and once I was back on my feet, I had to deal with temptation, addiction, falling, and getting back up. But I learned one thing that I knew but didn't believe before. The Savior really was there for me.

Right now, though I still fear falling, I am more at peace and feel a greater sense of forgiveness than I have in a very long time.

I think there is a great misunderstanding of Grace. It isn't just the result of words. It requires us to do all we can; then the Savior will help us to do more than we could - He will do what we cannot. But Grace doesn't mean that He will do what we WILL NOT DO.

Whenever I think I can't go a step further and then I do go just one more step, that is when, without maybe realizing it, I have just partaken of Grace.

Step 2 - The Savior's compassion

Wow. Isn't it amazing how easy it is to get off track? Okay, I've had a great excuse. I was 1/2 a continent away from home, attending a conference, without a computer, etc. etc. etc. But as I sit here focusing on this entry, I realize that it wasn't just my blog that suffered. Sure, I only got two entries last week, but I WAS majorly busy. It just hit me though that, although I took my scriptures with me, I never read them. I've completely blown my entire pattern and I'm sitting up at 2:30 am trying to do yesterday's blog which means I'm throwing off my sleep pattern again.

One step forward, five steps back.

I have to stand in absolute awe of the Lord's patience. I certainly don't have as much patience with myself as He seems to. Sometimes I have wished that the Lord would just go ahead and damn me and get it over with. But in my heart, I know He still hasn't. I must know that deep inside or I would have given up trying long ago and let my addiction have reign. Since I still fight the battle, picking myself up, I must still have hope in the Atonement - in repentance and forgiveness.

But how do I comprehend laying my sins - my addiction - upon the Savior's back and then looking into His eyes at the judgment day?

To each addict, their addiction is the worst. I'm no different. My addiction is not a physical addiction but moral corruption. I think I could bear the thought of physical addiction better. But then, as they say, the grass is always greener...

This has been one of the hardest things for me - to turn to the Lord for compassion and forgiveness: not because I don't believe He is willing to give it but because I can't bear to face Him when I realize that the suffering He felt in the Garden of Gethsemane was for my addiction.

In my worst moments, I have been in the depths of a black hole as powerful as any in nature. The thought that I have laid that very suffering on Him, is horrible. How do I face Him who knows perfectly my darkest moments - who has suffered the pain of those moments?

I guess it all comes down to being able to forgive myself. Because until we forgive ourselves, we don't really believe that God/a Power Greater than Ourselves can restore us.

Whether it is emotional trauma, addiction, or anger, there must come a time when we let go of the past and "get over it." Really, that is a problem with some therapy: we wallow too long in the pain until it swallows us. I was blessed. My therapists delved long enough to find the pain and then focused on getting past it rather than wallowing in it. Even then it has taken a long time. With addiction, we have to do the same.

Keep moving forward. When we stumble (and we will) get up, and start moving forward again. Don't focus on the failures. Focus on getting back on track.

I'm getting up in the morning and starting my routine again. I will not beat myself about the head and shoulders. I will get back on track before my slipping causes me to derail.

As is always true, tomorrow begins a new day.

Step 2 - Faith in Jesus Christ (Higher Power)

Isn’t it amazing how easy it is for us to believe in some things and how hard it is for us to believe in others? I just came from Comic-Con where hordes (I don’t know how many yet but last year there were 125,000 people and this year was sold out so…) came to celebrate their favorite heroes and villains and worship at the feet of the creators: authors and illustrators. The fervor that existed at the conference was amazing. I’m not sure that it would have been wise to indicate that Batman, Joker, Dr. Who, or any number or Anime heroes didn’t exist. There might have been injuries. I know it was all in fun – but tell that to the 6500 screaming fans of Edward Cullen, the sexy forever 17-year-old vampire whose frequent response of “uh…” still excited his fans.

So why is it so hard for us to believe in God or to accept that He loves us? Why is Faith so difficult?

Faith is a principle of Action. That is something that we’ve forgotten or perhaps never knew. It isn’t the same as belief. Belief is a first step – it is important. But it won’t get us there. In James 2:19 we are told just how much belief alone won’t get us there: the devils also believe, and tremble. Faith requires we do something. And that sucks at times – that’s where we stumble – well, where I do anyway.

There is an instance in the New Testament that I think is a point of transition: a place where within a moment a man in need goes from doubt to belief to faith. It is in Mark 9. A father had a son that he must have loved dearly but, like many parents today, was having lots of problems with. In his case, his son threw himself about, foamed at the mouth, physically injured himself, refused to eat, and showed every sign of insanity or possession. The father was desperate and went to the Savior who asked the father a simple yet infinitely difficult question: “If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth” or in other words: “Do you believe?”

In such a situation, it would be natural to do anything to get help, not the least of which would be to say, “Absolutely!” The father was more honest. “And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

In that moment his belief, even though he admitted it was not 100%, became an act of faith. He DID something. That’s what I’m learning through the Addiction Recovery Program. That’s what “leap of faith” means. We don’t KNOW. We exercise Faith and DO something.

There was an ancient king who was being taught about Christ. He didn’t know anything but he knew the goodness of his teacher and he sensed there was truth in his message. Still it was new and strange to him. When he was asked to pray, his prayer was the essence of my hope: that I can live up to his prayer in my darkest moments.

“O God, Aaron hath told me that there is a God; and if there is a God, and if thou art God, wilt thou make thyself known unto me, and I will give away all my sins to know thee, and that I may be raised from the dead, and be saved at the last day.”

This is where Faith comes in – to be willing to give away our addiction.

This is where Fear comes in. My greatest fear is that, in times of weakness, I don’t want to resist – I don’t want to give away my addiction – I don’t want to call someone. That leaves me without the ability to rely on myself or others because I won’t turn to them. Well, that’s kind of the definition of an addict. Willpower goes out the window, I guess.

But what about the Lord? If in those dark moments, I won’t turn to Him, will He still help? How can He? It seems to me that this is the very crux – the center of the quandary of the addict. Will He save me in spite of myself?

I don’t think so. But I am coming to believe that, if I do everything I can to exercise Faith in Him when I am not in my darkness, He can hold on to me when my darkness starts to take over – give me an anchor to keep me from drowning in my addiction.

My bishop gave me a challenge/assignment that has helped me exercise that principle of Faith in Christ. It seemed like a simple task – homework – that was formulaic but it has kept me out of the darkness since I started. Maybe because it has feed my spirit; maybe because it has taught me a little obedience, maybe just because I am doing something to show Faith.

In the morning, I get ready and then have prayer. Then I have a morning “devotional.” I read the scriptures – okay baby steps, it’s usually only a chapter right now but it is a beginning – and then I work on the 12-steps program and do my blog. I’ve forced myself to get past all the excuses about “no time” and realize this is my life, my sanity, and yes, my soul we are dealing with. I find the time now.

Starting my day with prayer and my devotional, I am trying to regain the Faith in Christ that will get me through the day – that will fortify me in the gospel so that He will be able that hold me up when I need Him, before I am too far gone to care.

That doesn’t take away all the fear. I heard another addict who is fighting my same battle express my very thoughts when she said sometimes she really wanted to mess up. That’s the fight alright. Half of me wants to beat the addiction and half of me wants it to be acceptable. It’s not and still I can survive.

With Faith in Christ/Our Higher Power.

Step 1 - Hunger and thirst

Long ago a young man came to the Greek philosopher, Socrates, who was greatly sought out by young students for his wisdom. The young man came to him in search of truth. Socrates took the young man out into the ocean, then surprising the young man, grabbed him and held him under the water. The young man struggled, fighting against drowning. As his struggles weakened, Socrates finally, mercifully pulled him out of the water. Sputtering, choking, gasping for air, the shocked young man asked Socrates why he had done such a thing. Socrates answered: "When you want to know truth as much as you wanted air, come back."

Many variations of this story exist, along with many interpretations. I've used the story numerous times in teaching. It applies to addiction to. As a matter of fact, it applies to every aspect of life.

We think we want our freedom. Man, I'd love to quit drinking/smoking/watching porn/hurting people I love. I'd do anything if I could just quit. But in reality, until that need is as desperate for us as the need to breathe, we are going to get distracted. I guess that is what is meant when "they" say we have to hit bottom first. We've got to be drowning before we're ready to grab help.

Somewhere inside us, is an immortal soul. I believe that. You may call it something different. It is what makes us who we are and completely different from everyone else. And I know that I, for one, have spent a lot of time trying to ignore it; telling it to shut up. It's like have a little Jiminy Cricket on my shoulder that I keep trying to squish, not realizing he's trying to save me from turning into a jackass. But there it is, yelling at me in a whisper. And according to some scriptures, it can hunger.

Wow what a concept. Not only can my body hunger (which is another addiction I've had to worry about) but so can my soul. Now I've got to work that one out. How can my soul hunger?

I guess above everything else, my soul craves to know that God hasn't given up on me, that he still loves me. Sometimes I feel so alone and separate from both humanity and from heaven that I feel like I don't belong anywhere.

When I was young, I had "friends" (yeah, right) who took great delight in convincing me that there were brownies (a term at that time for another type of faerie - not the young girl scouts) around me that they could see, but I couldn't. I'd go to play and sit in a chair. They would SCREAM!!! I'd just sat on one of the brownies and squished it. Stupid, stupid, me! I couldn't see it. I didn't know. They went so far as to do a magical surgery to help me see the brownies. I snuck a pillow out of my house and took it to school and during recess they performed the magic rite. FAILURE! I still couldn't see the brownies. I was just hopeless.

I still feel echoes of fear that the fairy world that I wanted so bad to see but couldn't - because it didn't exist - would equate to God. Yet in my soul, I know He exists.

Yet, my hunger still exists - the hunger that was and is to feel like I belong somewhere in the universe. My emptiness is that I still don't.

Perhaps that is why I have the fascination for my vampire protector - because I have a reason not to belong then. I don't know. I wish I did. But even there I don't belong. Because my vampire isn't like any of those that I meet in the vampire rooms.

So I'm pushing myself, trying to fit in with normal life. Each little success helps. Each failure at least makes me feel. At least I'm trying. I guess that my hunger is there for a reason - to bring me back to a point where I can find the path home. And after all, that is the purpose of my journey.

Step 1 - "I know that man is nothing"

Okay, after many years of fighting my addiction (even before admitting it was an addiction) and failing, this is sort of ground into my soul. Not a difficult thing to admit. I get it.

That's when it's dangerous. When we think we get it. I didn't get it. I think I understand it better now. Let me share two scenarios.

First - the bully on the schoolyard. He swaggers over to you, surrounded by his peeps. He's twice your size (probably from everyone else's school lunches that he eats) although not all muscle. But then, even 50 pounds more fat than you way can effectively flatten you. He starts shoving you and calling you names. Eventually he pounds you into the ground right in front of the whole student body. Then he walks off laughing with his peeps in tow. Everyone slowly wanders off giggling about you until you are left alone, wishing you'd never been born. Sounds like a movie. Yeah, I know. Unfortunately, it also happens in real life.

Second - A parent on the playground. He walks over to you, where you are struggling, trying to stand. He puts out his fingers and you wrap your tiny hands around them. You try to pull yourself up but don't have enough strength yet. So he gently closes his hands around yours to protect you and pulls up just enough to extend your body and allow you to stand. Shakily, you pick up one foot. You would fall if he weren't holding you up. He shift both of your weight so that your uncertain foot moves forward just an inch and then slightly lowers his hand as your foot comes down to meet the ground and you take a faltering step.

In both cases, compared to the other person, you are nothing. You have no strength, no power, no ability. But what a difference in the potential of the path!

That is what Step 1 is trying to teach, I think. We are nothing with the help of God/our Higher Power. But with Him, we can win.

Without Him, I keep falling down. I keep missing my triggers. I even get to where I don't care. Without Him, my aloneness drives me crazy and I drift to where I accept what I know is wrong. I even crave it.

How do we fight that? My book asks: In what ways are you of infinite worth? My first response (always knee-jerk I'm afraid) was: "Who says I am?" The answer is a slap in the face - the scriptures do - therefore God does. Oops. Sorry.

Deep in my soul I feel such sorrow over my addiction - over sin - that I truly want to walk the path that my Heaven Father has dictated. I believe that He gave us commandment, not to restrict us, but to free us. Addicts should understand that. Our addictions make us prisoners. Get rid of the addictions and we feel an incredible freedom.

So here is what I have to remember.

I am a child of God and therefore - like all others who walk the earth - my loss to Him would be as sad as it would be to my earthly mother. I need to understand that - the feel that connection like I feel the one with my mother. I lost her last year and miss her so much. I need to realize that He feels about us that way.

Still, this is very hard for me. Relying on others, even God, is difficult. I'm a bit self-reliant to say the least.

"I know I'm bleeding but I'm fine, really."

At school once, I was reduced to living off a 5-pound bag of potatoes for a month. I did it. Never ask for help because there are other people who need it more. That's my motto.

So it is extremely frustrating to realize that, in the most important fight of my life, the fight against addiction, I can't rely on myself. I've always been taught to take responsibility for my actions. I'm good at that. I can damn myself in a heartbeat - frequently do. Bad me!

I'm caught in the quandary of knowing how many times I've failed and fearing that each time, all the weight of the previous times is heaped back upon my head. I cry out "Have mercy upon me!" but in my heart, I'm afraid of the next time I'm going to fall. I just don't know how to overcome that fear and become like a little child - trusting in Him to lead me through.

I'm trying and I'm getting better. To use AA terms, I've been "sober" for five months.

It's a beginning.

Step 1 - Encompassed by Temptations (Part 2)

*Cue Weekend*

I had made the decision not to post on weekends, but feel like I cheated by not doing so. Still, it gave me a lot of time to think - particularly because I ended by once again NOT going to bed until Monday morning.

I woke up thinking, "You did it again! Why?" Of course, that is the addicts lament which only verifies that I have to think seriously about this new aspect. Maybe I'm just addicted to sleep deprivation. No? Oh well.

I think what I'm learning is that Satan/the Devil/the Dark Side/Lucifer (put in your title) isn't stupid. Temptation is temptation because it is wrapped is pretty paper and decorated with our favorite distractions. It's the bright, shiny thing that catches our attention. Otherwise it would be easy to ignore.

Temptation is bad enough when it is something that we absolutely don't need. It is really annoying when we have to find the point of moderation. (We can live without alcohol. We can't live without food. You get the point.) Addicts don't tend to understand "moderation" terribly well.

Well Step 1 is about Honesty, so I've been trying to be honest this weekend. It sucks. LOL. That is a private joke that you may get a little later in this blog.

A good friend from the group told me that there is a hole inside us that we fill with our addiction. When we give up an addiction, we fill it with something else - sometimes with another addiction; hopefully with God. Others talk about getting rid of bad habits by replacing them with good habits. The point is, you can't just stop doing something - you have to take "action" - Do Something.

So, my addiction to Internet pain pornography has disappeared. YAY! I haven't had a problem in a long time. I thank the Lord and the group and my religious leader and my counselor and my loving, supportive family. But there is a voice back in my head that is trying to get my attention. Both my religious leader and my counselor have warned me about staying up late and the danger it puts me in of falling again. But here I am - up late - on the Internet...

So what am I doing? Well, don't worry, I'm just being social.

Uh-oh, it's onion time again, isn't it? Sigh. Let's peel away another layer.

For those of you who have never experience IMVU, it is a virtual reality instant messaging program with a twist. You create a world for yourself to live in, a personality, a home page, etc. You can create public rooms with themes that people visit. You can change your appearance and clothing. You can be anything: human or non-human. You can do almost anything: dance, fly, do magic. (Walking is a little problematic so you usually jump from place to place instead of just walking although certain places for a short walk programmed in.) For me that has provided three very seductive outlets. The second is easiest to explain, so I'll start there.

Many years ago, I was in an accident that put me in a wheelchair. Although I've gotten out of that abomination and am able to do most things again, dancing isn't one of them that I can do without a lot of pain. I used to be on a dance team many years ago and while I haven't had the social life in a long time to allow me to dance, my soul misses it something awful. In IMVU, I can dance. Granted, the dancing is a lot sexier than anything I would do in real life, I've found one room where they have put a couple of slow dance spots in (partially for me) so I visit there a lot. Probably too much, considering the theme of the room. I usually keep my visits short; maybe 30 minutes - something that was recently commented on. It made me feel wanted. As I said in a previous post, my character is quite popular. So I spend my nights dancing.

I'll move to the third reason (yes, obviously I'm avoiding the second - good guess). I have more than one account, more than one computer, and therefore I can play more than one character. I've created two characters from a book I wrote. (Yes, my counselor and my family tell me it's obvious that I am the one character, excluding one important aspect.) In my IMVU, these characters are very much in love. So besides filling my social life, IMVU has also fulfilled a non-existent love-life. Somehow, while I can't open up in real life, I can in this world. It isn't a threat.

Now to the hard one. In the dark time of my childhood - when I have so little memory, I created a protector. Sometimes it was someone outside of me. Sometimes it was myself. Always it was a vampire - someone nobody could mess with. But always the vampire was good - a creature of agency like any human who made a choice to overcome the worst part of his/my nature. In IMVU, I've recreated myself as that vampire. The rooms I visit are vampire rooms - but I've the more gentle one - the voice of reason - the never kill. I'm the addiction trying not to be controlled. I'm the dichotomy. Any IMVU lets me be. It's very seductive. While others let their real lives enter in, I've split mine in two. There are my real life and church related friends - with them I'm normal. There are those who know my vampire persona - I never break character, I never let myself peak through.

So now I've come full circle and the questions are more honest. Yes, there are some people that I'm helping, some friends I've found. Those are on the one side. There is no real guilt on that side, although it does sometimes keep me up late because sad things happen to people at bad times. But to be HONEST, that isn't what is causing my panic.

It's the vampire side, where I go dancing, and let my inner vampire out to play. Where I try to convince wannabees that violence and death aren't gifts. Where a person like me who was once diagnosed as passively suicidal, plays the immortal and almost wishes it possible - but only on my terms - without hurting anyone. Where all the love of the universe is embodied in someone that I've created, who loves me - again on my terms - sensually but with no sexuality involved. This is what scares me and draws me. This is what I love and want to be okay and am terrified is just another addiction. This is what I'm afraid that I'll have to give up. It is just a game? Or is it more?

Step 1 - Encompassed by Temptations

Wow. Do you ever feel like the harder you try to avoid your addiction [for those of you are aren't addicts, replace "addiction" with "temptation"] the more likely it is to be waiting for you around the next corner, casually and seductively leaning against the wall, head cocked and smiling - just knowing you weren't expecting to find it there? There is a silent "gotcha" just waiting to swallow you whole. And it doesn't have to be when things are at their worst. At least not for me.

The sad thing is that for most of us, the addiction started out as our protector - sort of the one who protected us from that guy in the alley.

Imagine the movie Interview with the Vampire. There is the mortal Louie, drunk, passively suicidal, stumbling along the dark streets with a prostitute when her pimp throws him against a wall, pulls a knife, and threatens to rob him or kill him. Enter Louie's future addiction in the form of the vampire Lestat, who rescues Louie and turns him into the future blood-a-holic.

Once upon a time, there was a reason we turned to our addictions. The problem is: we didn't recognize them for the murderers they were.

Eventually the addiction turns from the rescuer to the stalker. It's like every bad horror movie you've ever seen. We know the monster is there, waiting, hungry... We even try to warn the character. "No, don't go into the room!!" They never listen. They die.

Sometimes we are lucky and we hear the faint warning voice in our head warning us about the monster. Sometimes we even listen. I guess that is what the addiction recovery group has become for me - that voice that is somehow getting through, warning me about the monster - reminding me it is a monster and not an old friend.

But they can't be there all the time so one of the first things I've had to do is figure out when and why I most feel encompassed or trapped. My first answer came quickly: "I don't know."

I found that has almost always been my first answer. I guess I'm trying to avoid the truth. Digging hurts.

Digging means levels.

For me, warning beacons are loneliness, depression, illness, and night. There, that takes care of that. But what about loneliness, depressions, illness, and night triggers my addiction? And what triggers depression and loneliness? And how can I avoid night??? Or illness for that matter?

I peeled off a layer of the onion and cried.

Okay. Let's start with illness - that should be pretty easy. It makes sense that if I get sick, my defenses are down. But I can't help it if I get sick! Except that I frequently don't go to bed until 5 or 6 in the morning: I'm like a kid who is exhausted, yet fights against going to bed, kicking and screaming the whole time, "I'm not tirrreeeeedddddddd." And no, I don't have insomnia. The second my head hits the pillow, I'm asleep. I just don't seem able to force myself into the bedroom. So I guess I could do a lot to help my health. Sleep, exercise, nutrition. DRAT! In other words, I'm making myself sick?

I peeled off another layer of the onion and cried.

So, if I took care of my health, it would also serve to take me out of harm's way late at night. Sigh.

As I'm sitting here, thinking, I realize a new layer. I'm dealing with more than one addiction. You see, I stay up so late because of the loneliness. I have no social life. I'm not sure whether it's because I've forgotten how or because I'm too boring in real life, but I spend most of my life in my house. Trying to socialize actually causes me panic. Going outside doesn't. That isn't the problem. I just seem to lack the social skills. But I've created a social life online. It's anonymous. I'm not me. I'm not even human. And that being seems to be quite popular. And that... is addicting.

And once again I'm faced with a rescuer that is becoming a stalker. Some addictions are easier than others - don't get me wrong - I don't mean easier to deal with, I mean easier to judge. For example: if you are an alcoholic, as hard as the path is going to be, you know the only way is to quit drinking altogether. But if your addiction is food, you can't quit eating. With my addiction to pain and related pornography, I know I have to quit that all together. But with my social time on the Internet - there are times that I do good. I've talked to other addicts and maybe even helped. I talk to real life friends as well. Does giving that up completely help or destroy?

I don't have the answers. I'm looking too. Your thoughts are welcome.