Step 4 - The truth

Truth is a difficult concept. Addicts see “through a glass darkly” and it isn’t just in denial. That would be too easy. I for one must be schizophrenic when it comes to truth. And from what I’ve learned over the last 18 months or so, I am not alone. One part of me obliterates the truth – that Swiss cheese memory I have. Perhaps that is the equivalent of denial that most addicts experience. If I can’t remember it, I don’t have to deal with it. While it is a protection from pain and is very necessary at times, it can get in the way of recovery.

The other part of me sees myself through distorted lenses, turning myself and everything I do into the most monstrous version possible. With both these versions of seeing “through a glass darkly” I have greatly feared Step Four. How can I create my list if I can’t even remember what I did a year ago? How can I repeat if so many of my sins are obliterated by my memory? And how can I forgive myself if the ones I do remember are distorted beyond forgiveness?

Truth means not only facing the reality of our sins, not only acknowledging our weaknesses and admitting our addictions, it also means bringing the boogie-man or the monster down to size. Part of what we learn in group is that we are not so unique after all. The facilitator in our group tells us there is nothing we can tell him that he hasn’t already heard or probably done. Facing the truth means realizing that our addiction is not worse than anyone else’s – that there is no excuse, no reason, no insurmountable trial that no one else has ever faced that makes it okay for us to give in to our addictions. We face the truth and pull our addiction off the pedestal it has been living on. It is not a god that has the right to rule our lives. We simply have chosen to worship it. We gave it its power. Now we have to take its power away.

Until we strip away the lies, the mystery, and the protection that we give our addiction, we are fated to fail. I have tried to deal with my problem many times in the past. Obviously something has not worked or I wouldn’t be here today. I have sincerely mourned and repented and even talked with religious leaders. Tut this is the first time I’ve faced this as an addiction – as something I will have to face and fight for my entire life. That is an important difference and I think that truth is the key to defeating Lucifer.

The funny thing is, addicts have a problem trusting and yet we trust our addiction and therefore we are implicitly trusting Lucifer – the destroyer – the one who tells us that our addictions will make everything right. The truth is that if we would trust the Lord as much as we trusted our addictions (Lucifer), we’d be free.

Step 4 - The hope of recovery

“Recovery” has taken on a whole new meaning for me. A week ago life was normal. Then Gustav started a very steady march toward us. Our city was devastated. We haven’t experienced such devastation since Hurricane Camille – and I wasn’t around then so I’m taking that on faith. 60-70% of the area still doesn’t have power. “Recovery” means taking devastation and bringing life back to normal.

I evacuated before Gustav hit. I’ve been safe and comfortable, far from the heat and damage and lines for gas and food. I’m dreading going home and feeling guilty for being safe. And I have to go home to start recovery.

Suddenly I have gained a new insight into Recovery. As addicts, we tend to be fatalists. We feel we can never beat it. But I’ve come to believe that while there is life, there is hope. I’ve watched New Orleans crawl back from destruction to life. Now my city is beginning the recovery process. We didn’t have the death toll that New Orleans suffered three years ago. But as I’ve talked with my friends that I’ve finally been able to contact, I recognize the strained voices and the frustration and exhaustion that the situation has caused. But I also recognize that they are all alive and moving forward – hot and tired, but alive.

As addicts, we only lose when we give up. Until then, we are working toward recovery. We may stumble. We may lose our path. But unless we give up, we still have hope of recovery.

Step four is painful. Delving into the past; getting to the truth behind our addictions – it’s very much like cleaning away the debris and trees and torn roofs. But we can’t fix anything until we’ve done the clean-up.

Like my city, I am in recovery and I will continue there.

Step 4 - Reviewing your life

Have you ever had the experience of someone telling you to “empty your mind” and “think of nothing”? No matter how hard I try, it is impossible. The second someone tells me to relax and empty your mind (I went to a hypnotist for weight loss), the task becomes virtually impossible.

Now, I know I have a bad memory. But not that bad! Yet as soon as I sat down to try and review my life, I became an absolute blank slate. It was as if someone had wiped the hard drive. I stared at the computer wondering what my name was.

It’s strange, because Step Four has never frightened me as much as some people. Step Three scared me senseless, but Step Four – not so much. Yet here I am – at a loss for words. And those of you who have gone back to the beginning with me know that is saying quite a bit.

My entries here are separate from my list itself. This is about the process. There is a difference.

Some people choose to avoid the process. They continue in their addiction blissfully thinking that there has to be a way around it, without going through the pain. But you have to remember, it was a lot of pain that got us here. Though we are imagining wracking pain, I think it will actually be relief once we take the step. I know when I went and talked with my bishop, the pain was so intense, but it was amazing how exquisite the relief was afterward. But addicts are so averse to the pain that we self-medicate ourselves with more pain. It’s like the dentist’s office. He jabs that huge hypodermic needle in six times causing me to cry each time until it is numb. But what if I had him do that just to take x-rays? It may sound stupid but that is pretty much what we do.

Other people have the process thrust on them. It’s called intervention or outside pressure. Sometimes it works but only if the person wants it to. Otherwise, they will end up back in their addiction. That’s why addicts end up in and out of rehab clinics.

Once in a while, life-altering occurrence life others out and force them to really take stock of their lives. These end of changing the lives of others because they can’t bear to see others suffer like they did. My uncle hurt my aunt. It changed his life. He spent the rest of his life getting clean and then helping others get clean. He became a light for the lost. I think of Saul of Tarsus who was struck down by the Lord, blinded so that he could finally see. Once he had reviewed his life and humbled himself, he was healed and taught and became one of the greatest missionaries the world has ever known, eventually giving his life as a testimony. Once changed, he changed others. But then, that is Step Twelve.

And then there are the rest of us, who hopefully will gather up our strength, humble ourselves, get over ourselves, and review our lives in brutal honesty, opening up all of our wounds so that they can be cleansed and healed.

Step 3 - Communing with God

I was struck with one particular word in my title. No, it wasn’t “God” or even “Communing.” It was “with.” Okay, maybe I’m with only person on earth that can get hung up on a preposition, but hear me out.

Society has screwed us up. Yep. For once I am going to blame society. Usually I blame myself, so don’t anyone freak out when I shift the blame here.

But let’s be honest, of those of you who believe in God, how many were taught memorized prayers? Go ahead, raise your hands, nobody is looking. Okay. Now of the remainder, how many of you forward emails with set prayers in them because you would feel guilty if you didn’t? Okay. Now of the remaining “believers” how many of you say your prayers and then get up, thinking that the communication is over, because after all, it is one-sided?

Do you get my drift?

Most of us, who do believe in God, still think of prayer (communication) as a one-way street with our words going up into a giant receiver. But how many actually take the time to sit and listen and expect some form of communication back?

I heard a talk in church once that should have touched me then, but it affects me more now. The speaker compared prayer to a phone conversation and asked how we would feel if we had a child who called each day with the following type of conversation:

Hi, Dad. Hey I’m having some problems today and could really use a little extra money so if you could send $500 I’d really appreciate it. I’m going to the doctor next week. He thinks I may need to have my gall bladder removed. It really sucks. It would be great if you could convince him that it wasn’t necessary. The kids are doing good. No problems there. But we are a little worried that Jimmy isn’t talking yet. Well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, bye.

…and hung up, never giving you a chance to say anything, not even that you love her or that you’ll send the money, or that you’ll pray for her. Just “click.”

And yet that is how we usually communicate with God. And sometimes we do it with the same identical words every day. I catch myself doing it, in such a rut that my mind is on auto-pilot. Sometimes, I have to ask myself if I even finished my prayer.

So how can we call that communication?

Wow. I’m so out of practice communicating that I’m a little intimidated, but I figure I have to start somewhere. I’ve been praying all my life, but I’ve been talking “to” God not “with” God. And my trust issues suddenly make a lot of sense.

How can you know someone you’ve never communicated with? How can you trust someone you don’t know?

Step 3 is a decision – our first real decision. I guess for me, this is the key. My decision comes down to this: I need to get to know God because I’ve decided to trust Him.

Step 3 - Becoming as a child

I don’t know about you, but childhood was not the best time of my life. Well, to be accurate, something about my childhood scared the memory right out of me. So “becoming as a child” holds about the same feeling for me as asking my mother, who was extremely claustrophobic, to spend the night in a coffin would have had for her.

Although that isn’t entirely true.

I don’t have many memories of my childhood and just trying to think back gives me panic attacks but there were some precious times. Somehow, with my immediate family, it was safe to be a child. It was with the entire rest of the world that childhood was hell. But even as an adult, there were times when I needed my mother’s arms around me, just to feel safe. Still, other than with my immediate family, becoming vulnerable again is not a pleasant concept.

Unfortunately, once I finally allowed myself to start feeling again, I experienced a lot of anger and much of it was directed at God. That was accompanied by a lot of guilt, because as angry as I was, I still believed in Him and knew that anger was really the wrong emotion to be throwing out at the Creator of the Universe and my Heavenly Father. And just let anyone else say anything bad about Him and it broke my heart. Again, I was one huge dichotomy.

So how do I become a child again – given that I am willing?

• One thing about a child is that they don’t hold grudges. Rain turns to sunshine quickly and forgiveness is only a smile away.
  
• A child trusts implicitly. It is as we grow older that we question whether daddy’s arms will still be there when we jump.
  
• A child loves naturally. Adults teach the child prejudice and fear.
  
• A child submits to the will of the parents. It is as we grow that we become more self-aware and put our wants above our parents will. Sometimes that leads to growth, sometimes to disaster. But then, our parents aren’t perfect.

Other than my grandparents (and I've finally resolved my feelings there), I can’t hold a grudge to save my life. I guess it’s partially because of my lack of memory. Go away for a day and I’ll forget we ever had a problem. Go away for a year and I’ll probably forget I knew you. Sigh.

Okay, trust is my biggest problem, but I am working on that one. So let’s put a big checkmark here and keep coming back to it.

Love is actually one area I do well in. I find it easy to love people. It wasn’t always that way. I didn’t let myself feel anything, let alone love. But now, I find there are very few people I don’t care about.

Submitting to the will of God – sigh – back to the trust issue. I’m really trying. I keep making changes – adjusting as I go along. I hope that God has patience because I haven’t gotten this one right yet.

At least I’m trying. It’s strange; it still comes down to fairies. I am arriving at the point that I can believe Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me. I understand that to give me agency means to give everyone agency and I’ve come to believe that angels truly were protecting me during the darkest times. Given the sensitivity of my spirit, I would not have survived if they hadn’t been there. But it still comes back to that horrible childhood fear when my magical world of fairies was destroyed.

Still, if I can learn to believe my own spiritual moments of testimony and my own experiences, then maybe I can make the leap of faith and finally trust their love for me and their reality enough to submit my life to their will.

It’s really strange: I know. Now I just have to believe.

Step 3 - The choice to begin recovery

Choice. My life always come back to that. I think I have no choice, but I am wrong. Sometimes I choose to do nothing and the choice is made for me by default. That’s what addiction is all about I think. I choose to remain where I am because I avoid making the hard choice to change. Let’s face it: change is scary, change hurts, and change sucks. But when the situation we are in hurts more than the change, we are finally ready.

Choice. I have a niece. I love her dearly and she drives me crazy. Her theory in life is that we choose how we will react. Is that insane or what? Granted sometimes I worry she is going to push herself over the edge someday by being cheerful when she needs to accept she isn’t perfect and she is allowed to cry once in awhile, but generally (as much as I hate to admit it) she is right. She chooses to be happy and she is. I watch in amazement. Why isn’t it that clear-cut for me? I used to pretend it was, but she really radiates it.

Choice. Step Three is our first real action step. We make the choice to Recover. I’m amazed at how many people we lose from the group before they get to Step Three. That’s why I am there, but now I have to really commit. It isn’t just a wish any more. But it is more than just “I choose to Recover” that I am committing to. I am choosing to change some things in my life that will in turn help me recover.

Some I’ve already discussed:

• Humility
• Submission to the will of God
• Patience/Long-suffering

Along with these, are a few that I will need to develop in order to get ready for the next Steps:

• Gentleness
• Openness
• Temperance
• Diligence
• Gratitude

Think of it this way: these things are a formula for a super-Drain-O that clears the pathway between us and God/our Higher Power that allows Him to work in our lives. I admitted I couldn’t do it alone in Step One. I realized there was Hope through God in Step Two. Now I guess, I have to open the channel to God and Trust in His ability to help me.

Gentleness

As an addict, it is easy for me to be super-critical. Surprisingly, it is usually of myself and not others. I am, as the saying goes, my own worst enemy. But there are two people that I have had to forgive, to learn gentleness toward before I can expect to fall on the mercy of the Lord. No, make that three. I had to forgive my grandfather – to realize that he raised my father and uncles and aunt who are all incredible people and to realize that I don’t want him to suffer. I had to forgive my grandmother, because I blamed her for pushing and manipulating my grandfather toward his addiction. And I had to forgive myself for hating my grandparents when I wasn’t even sure if anything had really happened. I had to put everything in the past and gentle my soul so I could love people again. For as Paul preached to the Ephesians:

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

(Ephesians 4:32)

Openness

Why is it as I grow older, I grow more suspicious and hardened, unwilling to listen and learn? I become prideful and think I know more than those around me. I’m reading in the New Testament right now and am amazed that when Paul and Barnabas are preaching and the hearts of their listeners are “pricked,” the reaction is frequently that they attack rather than repent. In Lystra, Paul and Barnabas performed great miracles and were hailed as the gods Jupiter and Mercurius. Although they were able to convince the people they were not gods, Paul ended up being stoned by the people and dragged out of the city and left for dead.

How does this apply to me? Hopefully not with an exact parallel. But how often do I refuse the healing miracle? How often do I admit defeat before I even try? How many of us never even work the steps? How many of us are sure that our situation is so unique that none of this applies?

Me! But you know what? I was wrong. And if I give up trying to be the worst case out there, maybe there is hope for me.

Temperance

I’ve used the pendulum symbolism before. As addicts, we live in the world of extremes – in everything. I remember years ago, a bishop’s wife spoke in church and told us to stay in the mainstream of the church; not to be an extremist even in our devotion. My immediate thought was that she was making excusing for not being willing to live the gospel to the ultimate degree. I wanted to become perfect in this life and that didn’t mean staying in the mainstream.

Word to the wise – she was right. Insanity lies in that direction. She didn’t mean only to obey 50% of the commandments. She was warning against extremism such as trying to fast for 40 days. (Okay, I only made it for one week. Friends finally forced me to eat because after a week, you really have no appetite.) Sometimes we have to remember that we are not the Savior. But when you become an extremist, you lose the love for your fellowman because, try as you might, you begin looking down on their puny efforts.

You also damn yourself a thousand different ways when you fail.

As an addict, temperance is my lifeline. In order to be strong, I must respect my addiction so it doesn’t blindside me. Lack of temperance brings arrogance brings failure. Don’t believe me? Test it. Better yet: avoid that hornet’s nest all together.

Diligence
Okay – one word – elephant. If you are lost, please refer to previous posts.

There is a poem by D. H. Groberg that I love entitled, “The Race.” It talks of a young boy running a race with his father watching. He wants to win for his father so bad that he keeps falling. Still, remembering his father, he gets up each time and keeps going. He finishes last, far behind all the others, feeling defeated and a failure:

They cheered the winning runner as he crossed the line first place
Head high, and proud and happy no falling, no disgrace

But when the fallen youngster crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race

And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he won the race to listen to the crowd

And to his dad he sadly said “I didn't do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.

“Quit, give up, your beaten,” they still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says, “Get up and win the race.”

For me it is simple: if I screw up, don’t give up. The race isn’t over.

Gratitude

This is an easy one to screw up on. When I make it through a day, I think I’ve succeeded. It’s easy to forget who got me through. It’s a little like the story of Harold.

Harold is walking down a darkened alley, when he's suddenly confronted by two masked men carrying guns. Fearing for his life, Harold throws his hands heavenward and begins to pray, "God, save me, please save me! I'll do anything, God - I'll go to synagogue every day, I'll take that long-overdue trip to Israel, and I'll even give half my income to charity!"

At that moment, a police car pulls into the alley, and the thugs flee. Harold looks heavenward and says, "Never mind, God, I took care of it myself!"

Don’t get me wrong. We have to do our part. We can’t be like the man who had all the faith in the world that God would save him and couldn’t figure out why he drowned.

A flood threatens a town, forcing everyone to evacuate, But Joe thinks, "I'm a devout man, God will save me," and stays put.

As the waters rise, Joe's neighbor comes by and says, "Joe come with me, we've got to go." Joe declines, "I'm a devout man, God will save me."

The waters keep rising, Joe scrambles to his second floor. A firefighter in a rowboat comes by. "Get in the boat or you'll drown," he says. Joe again declines, saying, "God will save me. So this flood story goes."

Finally, the flood waters force Joe to his roof. A police helicopter comes by and throws down a rope. "Climb up or you'll drown," the policeman yells. "No, I'm a devout man, God will save me," Joe replies.

Soon, Joe drowns. He arrives in heaven and challenges God. "Why didn't you help me?"

"What do you mean?" God says. "I did help. I sent a neighbor, a firefighter and a helicopter."

I have to recognize his help when it comes. Otherwise, I may just find myself back where I was, relying on the most unreliable source – me.

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 - Deliverance from bondage

Remember the first infant prayer of the ancient king I mentioned before? I love his prayer and his innate understanding: "and I will give away all my sins to know thee." How incredible is that? "All my sins!!!"

Some sins we cling to so hard because they are comfortable and familiar and the pain they cause is one we are used to dealing with, whereas the pain of everyday life is something we have carefully avoided and so we don't quite know what to do with it, even though, in truth, it may be far less than the pain of our addiction. Eventually though, if the pain of our addiction becomes great enough, we seek recovery.

What we can't see in the beginning is that by giving up our familiar friends that are destroying us, we are actually giving up our chains.

So, what if you were in prison? It could be a prison in the penal system or a political prison. It doesn't really matter. You are in prison because of something you did. It wasn't a mistake, a miscarriage of justice, or anything like that. You screwed up and violated some law of society and now you are stuck in prison. Your cell is fairly small and your privacy non-existent. Your whole world knows everything you do. What would you be willing to do to get out?... to start your life over?... to be freed from bondage?

That is an issue people are dealing with every day, whether it is freedom from an addiction, from unemployment, or from financial bondage. What would you do to get out from under that bondage?

Once the pain is enough, we will finally decide to give up a lot. For the unemployed, it may be pride over taking a job beneath their educational/skill level. For financial bondage it may mean getting rid of a lot of seeming necessities. For the addict, it may mean giving up friends as well as the addiction. What am I willing to give up? And just as important, what am I willing to replace it with in order to be delivered from bondage? Am I willing to give away all my sins?

I'm willing to abandon pornography and self-torture; I'm willing to believe my body is a temple and treat it like one. I'm willing to bring my hidden addiction out of the closet to those who need to know and I'm willing to let it go. I'm willing to have morning devotional and to pray and listen, even when I'm afraid that, like King Claudius in Hamlet, "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go." Still, I'm willing to keep praying until my thoughts accompany my words. I'm willing to accept consequences for my actions.

I'm willing to admit that I've come farther this time because I've finally realized that I can't do it without the Lord and I've started trusting in Him again.

Most of all, I'm willing to move forward when I'm scared to death. I'm afraid that the farther forward I move, the farther down I can fall. But I'm beginning to believe that, with the Lord's help, I can do it. That sort of trust is new to me. Faith in His great power I've always had. Trust in His willingness to forgive me is what I've doubted. Right now, I'm feeling more trust and peace than I can ever remember feeling.

So I'm packing my bags and moving on, hoping that I'm leaving my bondage behind. I now understand that I'll always have the addiction. But now I know that I can be strong enough that it is not a constant part of my life.

And that is Hope.

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 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 2 - Belief in God

First, I want to apologize. I'm currently out of town at a conference and have been having problems finding an Internet connection. So this week may be sporadic, but I will continue to seek opportunities to post.

As I mentioned in my last post, belief in God is not a problem. I have always had a belief in His existence. There has been a fear in the back of my mind that, like the imaginary brownies of my childhood humiliation, He might prove non-existent, but it has never been more than a fear of the repetition of that nightmare - never a belief. That belief has even saved my life.

Back in my early years of college, I began suffering severe depression for the first time. I had gone through my Spockonian years and been forcibly evicted from them by a well-meaning fellow student. Allowing myself to feel brought incredible pain which led to depression which eventually led to my fear of the "little white house on the hill" - a defunct psychiatric hospital. I finally went in for counseling and tested "suicidal." After being whacked up with a dosage of anti-depressants what were probably responsible for the dancing crocodiles in Disney's Fantasia, I became pretty much non-functional and failed a semester because I couldn't get out of bed. I finally took myself of the medication because I couldn't live my life that way. My therapist was concerned. The medications were because I was considered suicidal! They were necessary. Finally understanding the purpose of the drastic and very annoying medication, I explained that, regardless of the test, I wasn't going to kill myself. The reason was simple and it came down to this very point: I believe without a doubt in the reality of God and Christ and I could never face Christ and explain to him why I took the easy way out when he had suffered so much for me. That knowledge alone has always kept me away from the edge.

But that didn't mean I truly believed He loved me. There is a huge difference between believing that "He loves all mankind" and "He loves me." And I have what I told was a very valid reason for doubted His personal love - a reason tied to my anger. "If He loves me so much, where the heck was He when whatever happened to me, happened!" I thought that was pretty good logic.

So you can imagine who rebellious I felt when my task was to focus on the following:

"Many witnesses in heaven and in earth testify of God's existence. What evidences of God and His love have you experienced?"

Talk about ripping my heart out!!! Here I was supposed to focus on God's love for His children. I couldn't help but compare my sense of abandonment to their description of the love of God that they felt. It really wasn't helping.

Then, I was supposed to come up with instances of his Love that I had felt!

I fought this step for a long time. And I was not alone. Sometimes we want to hold onto our pain. It is familiar and we love it. We identify with it. Take it away and we forget who we are.

So when I finally started, I started with the one thing I could understand - family.

The first evidence of His love that I could see and understand was my immediate family. He sent me to them. I had broken down and reached out to my sisters, confiding in them the nature of my addiction. They love me still. As hard as it is for me to believe that, at least I can feel it and equate it back to Heavenly Father.

The second evidence was a blessing - a relief. During a period of time last year when every stress that could, fell on my head including the death of my beloved mother. Usually when everything seems to go wrong - out pops the addiction. For once, I found strength in that time and was protected from my addiction during that time of crushing sorrow.

The third evidence is when I did crash back into my addiction, instead of being thrown out with the trash, I was gathered in: my bishop, my therapist, the addiction recovery group, a group at the university, the psychiatrist, and others who gave me blessings all formed a circle of strength around me. And the blessings themselves, whose words were mostly forgotten, except that I retained a strong memory that in every one, I was told that He loved me or was pleased with my progress, or was pleased with my willingness to ask for a blessing.

The more I thought, the more the evidences seemed to appear - some simple, some vividly dynamic.

My mother's strong testimony that bore me up through youth.

The Atonement of my Savior!

In the end, I guess it all came down to my one angry question: "Where were you when I was a child..."

I finally discovered the answer and all the anger began to lose its power.

He was right there. He couldn't take my grandfather's free agency away so whatever happened, happened. But He could protect me in a very different way. By staying with me. By taking away the memories. By being there with me. And the funny thing is: the child knew it. I never doubted His existence as a child. And I loved Him dearly.

It was the adult that became angry and took it out on both of us. It was the adult that wanted to punish and hurt someone for the pain she had endured. It was the adult who had to deal with being an addict.

And now it is the child that is having to find her way back home.

Step 2 - Hope

The first time I finally stumbled forward toward Step Two, Hope was the one thing I didn't feel. Again, one thing my father taught me was responsibility. You screw up - you take responsibility. My father was a good man and a master teacher.

When I was seventeen (I think - I know I wasn't eighteen yet because I was still a "juvenile") our family car had a little glitch - no speedometer. We also had a standing rule - get a ticket - lose your license. Dad didn't believe in playing around behind the wheel. Well, I figured out a way to work around the broken speedometer. You just make sure you are going a little slower than the rest of the traffic. Right? Should have worked. I was going down a street near our house. I could see the police car sitting, just waiting for ticket-fodder to whip by him. It wasn't going to be me. Following my habit, I was going slower than the other car traveling the same path. He passed the police car, widening the gap between us. Then I passed. The police car pulled out behind me, passed, and began following the other car, flashing his lights. I thought: "Whew. Good thing I was going slower." Unfortunately, when I got up to the intersection where the police car had pulled him over, he signaled me to pull over as well.

"Do you know how fast you were going?"

Dad had taught me honesty, so I honestly answered. "No, my speedometer is broken, so I was going slower than the other traffic."

He informed me that I was still speeding, gave me a ticket with a summons, requiring me to appear in juvenile court. I was sick to my stomach. This meant I would lose my driving privileges and it wasn't my fault. It was my dad's stupid car and his responsibility to make sure the speedometer worked. It wasn't my fault!

And you have to admit - I was right.

But my father taught me a wonderful lesson. Once I had calmed down and gotten over the terror, upset, anger - whatever, we talked. He tried to convince me that I had to go into court and accept the responsibility for my actions.

That did not sit well with me. It was not my fault.

He tried again. He was not going to suspend my privileges because it was his car and he should have fixed the problem. But I had to face the judge because I had chosen to drive the car knowing that the speedometer didn't work. I thought I was clever enough to deal with the problem and I wasn't. I needed to face up to that. I hadn't been experienced enough to gauge my speed and I had to accept the RESPONSIBILITY.

I was furious. By the time I had to appear at court, I was still upset. I was still certain that I was guiltless - innocent. But when I walked into court, I was faced with either making excuses or accepting responsibility and somehow daddy's words had gotten through. I didn't make any excuses. I realized I was driving at an excessive speed, regardless of why. Me. No one else.

The judge decided that my willingness to accept that responsibility was sufficient. There was a three-month period after which, if I didn't get another ticket, my record would be expunged.

So personal responsibility has become a major part of who I am. And suddenly, in Step One, I had to admit that I couldn't do it on my own. I know - they aren't the same thing. But in my mind, they were. And that realization left me hopeless. All my life, I'd known people could count on me. Now I couldn't even count on myself.

Unfortunately, this step, which should have brought light to darkness and relief to pain, was far more difficult than Step One had been.

KEY PRINCIPLE:
"Come to believe that the power of God
can restore you to complete spiritual health."

Alcoholics Anonymous version:
"Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."

I had absolutely no doubt of that. My faith in the power of God to heal is absolute - for everyone else. How can you trust God to restore you when you don't even realize you are mad at Him? I guess anger was the emotion I had to get through the most: anger at my weakness, anger at my grandfather, anger at me for being angry at my grandfather without perfect knowledge, anger at God, anger at me for being angry at God.... Should I go on?

Pray; read and ponder the scriptures

I loved something I heard in a talk recently. One woman said that her mother told her that it was more helpful to read one scripture every day - consistently - and the read an hour a day for a couple of days and then quit reading because you can't find the time (or burn out or whatever). I like that. First, I dare you to read one scripture. It's almost like the old Lay's potato chip commercials: "Bet you can't eat just one." I'm not saying you'll read an hour because you're too fascinated to put it down (especially during Numbers) but if you don't feel the sharpened pendulum of time bearing down on you, you'll read more than you think. I do. I try to read a chapter a day now and sometimes realize I've read two. It's not a great feat - but it is something. If you are still struggling with your "higher power" do whatever it is you need to do to get closer to that higher power.

My anger was really holding me back on this step. I wasn't alone. There was a kindred spirit in the group. One day the facilitator told us that if we were having problems with faith in God, it didn't matter. He didn't care if our higher power were a screwdriver. That was fine. Work with that. That is paraphrasing quite a bit but the point is: do whatever you have to do to make the connection - to find the faith to be healed. The scriptures are like food for the soul: they help supply little daily portions of faith. Alone it isn't enough. But it sure adds strength.

Believe in God the Eternal Father and in His Son,
Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost

For me then, the challenge came down to this. Oh, I believe in them, all right. My problem was that, I wasn't sure they believed in me.

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.