Why All My New Year's Resolutions Failed

...And I could add a few more things than just new year's resolutions to the list: my daily to do lists, my weekly check lists, and goals in general. It seemed like I would start out with such fire--such a powerful righteous desire to be better. Then after a few months, weeks, or even days, I would find myself falling short, losing steam, giving up. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I keep that desire to be good? Weren't my goals worthy? Certainly God wanted me to overcome my addiction, or read scriptures, or exercise, or any number of other healthy things I was trying to do. Why wouldn't He help me?

I use the past tense, but I recognize I've still got a ways to go. Still, I feel like I've made two significant realizations that I'd like to share. 

The first realization is about my reasons for making the goals in the first place. I believe that trying to use “should haves ” and the guilt of unchecked boxes to force myself to be better is deeply misguided. I recognize it’s hard to separate my sense of self-worth from what I accomplish—I feel like if I can do X, Y, and Z then I’ll earn others’ respect, or God’s love, or at least escape the harsh, judgmental opinions I imagine others have of me. Instead, I’m convinced I have inherent worth and I need to change because I accept myself and want to be healthy; but to do that I need help—I need to view my goals as a sign of my desire for goodness and healthiness and an opportunity for God to help me identify what I need to surrender so He can change my nature.

Also, I wanted to be good, but I wanted to be good on my own terms. It's like taking my car to a fixit shop, asking them to change my windshield wipers because I'm having a hard time driving. They point out that all the wheels are completely flat, shredded, sending sparks everywhere. I tell them, "no, thanks. I just want to see clearly. Then I'll be able to drive without problems." God is a patient fixit man. He knows what I need, and He points me in the right direction, but He loves me enough to let me realize truth when I'm ready for it, even if it means I make things worse until I come to my senses. He knows that when I recognize that the tires are the real source of my problem, I'm going to be in a better position to turn to Him since He hasn't coerced me. 

The second realization is about what success is. My logic used to be, "I know that I am capable of doing X; therefore, that's my goal. Anything short of that is failure." For example I have a conviction that scripture reading is good, and that I am capable of reading for half an hour every day. Therefore, that was my goal, and I was a failure if I didn't do it. 

Now, however, my baseline for success has shifted. Now, I keep my eye on what I suspect my potential is, but I also recognize where I'm at right now. I ask myself, "without this goal, what would I have done?" Then, if I do more than that, I consider it a success. For example, say I have a goal to drink more water, but I forget all day except for a brief sip while passing a drinking fountain. Rather than viewing this as failing all day long except once, I choose to view it as taking one more sip of water than I otherwise would have, which I think is a success. Likewise, the single verse I read or the two sentences I write in my journal are things I wouldn’t have done otherwise, so they count towards healthiness, which is the whole goal. Looking at Jesus' injunction to "be ye perfect" or be "even as I am," yet to ignore that He "grew in grace," "line upon line" is to completely miss who He is and what His expectations for us are. 

A brief update, just cuz. About six months ago I gave my bishop my SA coins for 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 months of sobriety, which I told him I was working to re-collect from him. For a number of months I wasn't gaining much traction, but I've recently made some sacrifices (giving up unhealthy entertainment) and started doing healthy things (going to a counsellor, filling out daily accountability cards, calling a support guy everyish night). I am at three and a half months of not just sobriety, but actual recovery. Even my seven months of sobriety didn't feel like this. It's funny that things are going as well, maybe, as they've ever gone with my recovery, yet my experience in church, my diet, and my school habits aren't consistently positive. Still, that's a post for another time. 

The End

Daily Accountability in Card Format

I've recently started counseling again, this time with an LDS counselor who isn't associated with Family Services. It's been a really interesting experience. Here are a few quick things he's mentioned that really resonate with me (before I talk about the main thing I want to mention in this post):

• A lot of people start using pornography as a coping mechanism because 1) of something traumatic that happened or 2) because of under-developed attachment skills. I'm more the latter.
• There are understandable reasons behind using pornography/masturbation--it calms us down when we're stressed, it helps us numb and escape (momentarily at least), etc. We eventually conclude that the destructiveness that comes along with this behavior isn't worth these barbed benefits. But we're not crazy or inherently evil!
• When we've come to believe false core beliefs, we can either turn inward to use pornography to try to numb out the negative feelings, or we can turn outward to learn the truth about ourselves and face our life difficulties with help from those who identify with and support us. 

One more thing he's asked me to do is use the Cor-Cards from Lifestar. These are index-card-sized daily checklists of things we want to do to live more intentionally, shifting our thinking from our limbic pleasure center to our thinking brain--the cerebral cortex (hence the "Cor" card). I wasn't willing to do this...well, not in the exact way he recommended. I ended up customizing the daily checklist and making my own card. Here it is:

The "Wall Item" is a short way of saying something that I try to do or want to do that feels like I'm hitting my head against a wall. For example, I desperately need to get grading done, but I find myself procrastinating and doing other good things instead until I HAVE to get it done. Instead, I want to practice daily choosing one of these things that make me anxious and getting something accomplished with it.

The four-columned box near the top is from a conversation I had with my counselor. I realize that unhealthy behavior doesn't happen in isolation. The basic idea this column operates under is something happens (the "stressor"). In reaction, I feel certain emotions. So, sticking with the grading example, students turn in essays and in reaction I feel irrational fear, anxiety, feelings of inadequacy, etc. The "underlying" column is the assumption that there's some cause for these feelings. Did I have a bad experience with grading and a student freaking out? Do I doubt my abilities because of some teacher? Do I have earlier memories where I came to think of myself as stupid and incapable of critiquing others? Finally, I come up with a game plan (the "solution") to keep these emotions from ruining my life and pushing me towards unhealthy coping mechanisms.

The three-columned "taking care of myself" box is pretty self-explanatory. The "emotionally" column might be for things that I need for myself, like expressing my first box to a support person, giving myself permission to take a break, writing in my journal, or healthy entertainment in limited quantities. As a side note, I've had some pretty good luck recently with the "physically" by playing racquetball with friends, and the "spiritually" by starting each morning with a general conference talk and other recovery reading.

The next two are an attempt to learn from my mistakes and successes each day. This is where course corrections and healthy habits can be identified and reinforced. The last two boxes are also pretty self-explanatory (Laura is my wife).

I'm not advocating this particular format, but I do think it's important to get in the habit of being daily accountable for our behavior. I love that this is something that's not directly related to pornography and addiction--it's the underlying lack of skills and healthy habits that lead to them.

A quick note in closing. On the back of the cards I have a logo and a box for a quote. Here's my quote for tomorrow: "No matter how you begin to obtain relief [from addiction] those solutions will never provide a complete answer. The final healing comes through faith in Jesus Christ and His teachings, with a broken heart and a contrite spirit and obedience to His commandments" Richard G. Scott. I recognize that these cards can't heal me--only One person can do that--but they can help me identify my faulty core beliefs, solidify my plans for healthy living, and practice long-term positive thinking.

Rewards and Personal Value

It's been quite a while since I've written. Well, it's been a while since I've posted; I have three unfinished post drafts waiting for me to find some way to complete them. If you're not interested in a quick rumination about why I (or anyone else who falls off their blog) haven't written, skip the following bullet points. Here are some theories about why it becomes hard to consistently keep up this blog:

• I have some pretty bad shame issues from not successfully maintaining my recovery. I just feel like a super bad hypocrite writing on here about recovery, when I'm obviously no expert. Still, I occasionally think back to things that I've written on here, and admit this blog is to help me. 
• I have developed other ways of thinking through ideas and keeping myself accountable. I've established a pretty solid support network of guys I reach out to regularly (nightly check-ins at this point), and I write in a physical journal about as often as I put entries on this blog.
• I've written about a lot of things and it's harder to come up with original ideas. And don't get me wrong, I know there are endless things to write about. I simply don't want to write about repetitive or uninteresting things. And I've lost the drive to dig to the level I used to.
• I've gotten out of the habit. Over the summer, especially, I was pressed to my limit schedule wise and internet-access wise. On the other hand, when students tell me "I was too busy to do my homework," I translate that to "I didn't want to do it as bad as I wanted to do other things."

 Ok.

I had this idea a while ago about how my addiction works, and I thought it would be helpful to share:

"Rewards for Good Behavior" Becomes "Rewards Mean I'm a Good Person"

I came from a home where food and entertainment were regularly linked to good behavior. "You did well on a test at school? Let's go get a milk shake!" or "We worked hard today, let's watch a movie tonight." After a while, it becomes a habit, then a crutch. I eventually shift from doing the good actions for itself (with the reward as support) to doing the action to get the reward. And, as an added bonus, I have the past positive reinforcement--years of "good job!"--that mentally become linked to pleasure rewards.

Jump ahead to the insecure teen years, when I begin doubting my self worth. Or maybe it's that I become lazy or prideful enough to think I can take a shortcut past good behavior straight to the sign of good behavior--the pleasure reward. It eventually becomes "well, if I can't feel successful in real life, at least I can feel successful by getting the reward of a good person." Of course the reward is now pornography and masturbation, and of course they make me feel even less valuable which makes me feel an even stronger desire to feel like a good person.

Even now that I realize this and other illogical thought patterns, I find this way of thinking creeping in. The other week as I was working to resist lusting while on campus, I found myself subconsciously thinking/feeling that I had done good work in resisting lust and I knew I am on the right track (and I wasn't getting any sexual fulfillment from my wife), so I deserve a reward...of course, a little lust stimulation. It doesn't get much more illogical and insane than that.

Good Behavior Should Be the Reward

Making good decisions shouldn't be clouded by pleasure rewards. My wife has stopped having sex with me just because I'm doing well in recovery, which is a good thing. I've stopped watching television and movies or playing video games because I've gotten good work done. I want to get to the point where I work honestly and diligently throughout the day, then when I come home tired and satisfied from the good work I've done, I help my wife with the laundry and dishes and play with my kids. When or if I get to the point where I can handle pleasurable entertainment or food regularly, I need to ask myself, "am I doing this to escape my worries or to reward myself? Or "am I doing this to connect with my family members and enjoy life from a healthy set of habits?"

What Recovery Isn't

I want a well-adjusted, addiction-free existence--aka I want to live in balanced, sustainable recovery.

But the more experience I have with recovery, the more I realize how little I understand it. I used to be convinced that the addiction was responsible for all the havoc in my life, affecting pretty much everything: marriage, parenting, work, school, church, shopping, sitting, etc. I took this a step further, though, and assumed that because my addiction affected everything, once I got rid of it I'd spring back to health in all these aspects of my life. Maybe it wasn't even a clear idea of what would happen, but a general conviction that my homework would get done easier, I would be able to parent my children better, and my life would be more peaceful. I've since come to realize that recovery (the glimpses I've experienced of it, anyways) isn't exactly what I thought it would be.

Recovery Isn't Constant Happiness

Recovery is not synonymous with happiness. There's no question that my last 58 weeks since I started working on recovery in earnest (of which I would consider about 50 solidly spent in recovery) have been more happy, peaceful, and productive than any similar stretch in memory. But that's on the whole--there are still moments when I'm bummed about X situation that's out of my control, or Y ability I think I should have, or Z relationship that I think should be healthier. Let's not blame recovery, though; not being happy all the time is a side effect of being alive. 

However, recovery does enable me to have a positive state of mind all the time. Rather than happiness, it's a clear conscience. I'm convinced feeling free of guilt can give a feeling of contentedness that approaches what I previously assumed would be a constant state of happiness.

Recovery Isn't Smooth

Recovery is bumpy. If recovery is a path, it's got elevation issues. Sometimes I reach a fork in the road and the one marked "recovery" is fairly smooth and slightly downhill. It's quite a surprise when I reach the same path the next week, only to discover it's uphill and rocky. Why is it easy to resist lusting sometimes, but not others? Why is it painful to reach out or talk with my wife sometimes?

I don't know. But I do know that recognizing recovery's fluctuating difficulty levels helps me to not be complacent when things are going easy and not to be overwhelmed when things are going poorly. When things get tough--like they've been the last few weeks--I just need to take it a day at a time and know it will get better.

Recovery Doesn't Automatically Erase Bad Habits

Recovery does not clear away the wreckage of my past--when I'm in recovery, I clear it away.  Part of the reason recovery is so hard to succeed at is because bad habits, which aren't necessarily addiction related, make it harder to succeed. For example, when I binge video games I get the feeling of self-medicating through a screen, which leads to switching to porn. When I avoid helping clean the house, I have a sudden impulse to escape into something unhealthy.

On the other hand, recovery makes it much easier to get rid of bad habits. I thought of an analogy that I really like, but decided I will make it its own post in a while. Starting a draft now to remind myself.

Recovery Doesn't Automatically Make Me a Cool Person

Similar to the previous point, recovery doesn't revolutionize who I am...or rather, it doesn't do it as quickly as I would have wanted/expected. There's something about the demands and challenges of maintaining recovery that necessarily changes my attitude and habits. But recovery (much less sobriety) does not equal toppling a wall of anti-sociability, laziness, and ineptitude. Through consistently making choices to reach out, work hard, and be proactive I eventually become who I want to be.


Let me end with a positive note about a few days ago. I was sleeping on the couch again (long story), and I was feeling particularly strong temptations. I knew trying to battle them through thoughts was a losing prospect--my wife was in our room with the lights off, and I didn't want to reach out to support people in the middle of the night. I got the idea to clean the kitchen, so I did. It was weird doing dishes in the middle of the night, but if that's what it takes--to battle temptations that are harder than normal with attempts to overcome bad habits and develop good ones--so be it. The happiness that comes from recovery is worth it.

"Recovering" Year One

About a week ago I was going through some old blog posts that I hadn’t looked at in quite a while, when I realized that it was one year ago I started this blog. Some of the posts I looked at had things I had forgotten, and I realized I wanted to do something special to both recognize the occasion and make the first year more accessible. As a mental exercise I also wanted to see if I could boil the main ideas down to the bare essentials.

So without further ado, here are brief summaries of the 44 posts I’ve done over the last 365 days. Or, in other words, here are 1,689 words to describe the 45,041 words in all these posts. And, as a bonus, I also include a timeline of my recovery for the past year, complete with analysis.

Three Insights, Two Analogies, One Drawing

I share a hodgepodge of insights (about myself as a child, my emotions, and my impatience) analogies (sexual feelings as a locked door and the effect of addiction on our perspective) and an image that represents the analogies. I realize now that I completely repeated myself from two posts ago.

Sex Ceases to be a Demon Only When it Ceases to be a God

I review my recent progress in establishing a safe environment with my wife, especially as it relates to forming healthy attitudes and habits towards sex.

An Emotional Post (Not Really)

I assess my feelings towards my feelings. I conclude I have emotional needs, even if I’m in the habit of burying them to avoid drama, awkwardness, and embarrassment.

Book Review: We Will End the Conflict Now

I review the book entitled We Will End the Conflict Now: Victory Over Pornography From the Perspective of a Recovered Addict and His Wife. I criticize the definitiveness with which they talk about addiction even as I recognize that their book has very helpful perspectives, tools, and insights. Overall, I recommend it.

On Counseling

I share personal advice about counseling I wish I would have received before I started it the first time, including “Work to find the right counselor,” “prepare before starting,” and “don’t think of it as a silver bullet.”

Good in Parts

I borrow (steal) the idea of “seeing ourselves in parts” from my counselor to complicate the Cherokee parable of feeding two wolves in ourselves. I also break down how all or nothing thinking robs me of significant progress in scripture study and conference review; math is involved.

Is Pornography Addiction a Disease?

While I ultimately conclude that addiction is a disease that addicts (wittingly or not) made ourselves susceptible to and resist treatment for, I also acknowledge there are hazards in thinking of it in this way and that recovery is possible.

Three Pillars of Recovery

I analyze my recent efforts to strengthen myself after a relapse by theorizing about three legs of a recovery stool: accountability, motivation, and safeguards.

A Stellar Analogy

I reveal my inner astronomy nerd by sharing an analogy comparing a supergiant star’s gradual fuel corruption and collapse into a black hole or supernova with the human tendency to rely on less efficient fuel (daily actions and habits) until we explode or collapse spiritually.

(Re)Lapse in Judgement

I confess a full relapse after comparing my gradual decline to (SA buddy) Kyle’s. I also brainstorm and commit to actions that will help me return to a healthier place in my recovery, including improved safety network, in-marriage celibacy, and counseling.

Our Recovery Account

I compare recovery to a bank account, with recovery actions as deposits and addiction actions as withdrawals. I make a chart with seven specific deposit and withdrawal actions.

The Addict's Reality Distortion Field

I claim that it’s mainly a desire to maintain (unrealistic) optimism that leads addicts to perform mental contortionism (aka lying to ourselves and others) and ignore the reality of their actions. I call this the reality distortion field.

Conditional Hobbies

I apply Pavlov’s theory of classical conditioning to pornography addiction to argue that many hobbies we defend as healthy and necessary are actually adding to our struggle to recover and need to be abandoned until we break the conditioning.

Disturbance

I draw on a quote from my sponsor—“we become disturbed to the degree that we’re broken”—to explore how my frustration with life is actually a symptom of my brokenness.

Failure is an Event, Not a Person

I share an epiphany I had at my first ARP meeting in five months (doing SA meetings in the meanwhile)—that I have actually made progress, and that my failures don’t define me or my actual progress.

What is Sobriety?

I question common understandings of sobriety. I argue that it’s not masturbating to orgasm, but maintaining victory over lust, facing our weaknesses, and being true to ourselves.

Making my Desires into my Allies

After quoting Neil A. Maxwell about “educating and training our desires,” I apply the principle to addiction recovery, especially as it relates to hobbies that aren’t conducive to recovery.

Coming Back to Life

I recount a meeting with my sponsor and his success as a professional singer after his sustained recovery. I then trace my own failed desires to become an artist and writer in hope that recovery will bring these healthy creative desires back to life. Illustrations included.

Comments on Comments

I propose that comments on blogs function as an act of faith and service, an investment in a community (similar to an allegory about heaven and hell by Rabbi Haim of Romshishok), and an act of critical analysis that improve our understanding. I include a chart of the types of comments and their potential challenges and drawings to explain the allegory.

Only Eating "Glutton-Free" Food: Addiction as an Allergy

I compare addictions (like gluttony) to allergies (like gluten-intolerance). I claim that we have just as much control over how addictions affect us as someone with an allergy does over how it affects them. Drawing of “Glutton-Free Bread” included.

Seven Reasons Why Sexaholics Anonymous Rocks

Cuz it totally does.

Under Construction

I borrow (steal) an analogy from my wife about where we are in our recovery—moving on from crappy rundown apartments to our own house…though it’s under construction and still can’t provide shelter.

Haunted by Milkshakes

Silliness ensues artistically after a funny phrase on a fellow blogger’s post. I still love milkshakes.

If You're Happy and You Know It...

An attempt to manipulate my kids goes awry, leading to this post questioning what makes us happy. I maintain that self-awareness and remembering how we react is key.

Souvenir Comic

A comic based off my last post visualizes how we have baggage that we carry with us that will ultimately keep us out of heaven.

Not Keeping Souvenirs

After quoting C.S. Lewis—“if we insist on keeping Hell (or even Earth) we shall not see heaven…”—I explore ways in which I try keeping earthly souvenirs while striving to be heaven-worthy.

Pornography's Sales Pitch (Part One) and (Part Two)

In an effort to understand why otherwise obedient, good people become addicted to pornography, I compare it to a sales pitch, where Satan promises complete control over how you feel, complete safety from emotional pain, and the whole package is available for free. I challenge each of these claims, complete with a devil advertisement, a reference to the APA ruling that sex addiction isn’t a thing, and a video for recovering addict Mark.

Insanity and Making Calls

I relate lust addiction to Albert Einstein’s definition of addiction—“doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” I then talk about how making telephone calls to support people helps me escape the insanity loop.

"A Heavy Price" to become "Whiter than Snow"

I investigate how the story of David in the Old Testament is applicable to addicts, drawing on the SA white book, personal application, and the Bible Dictionary. Insult of Song of Solomon included.

The Addict's Round Table

Another silly visualization based off a funny phrase in a fellow blogger’s post.

Update Post: My Fears and Faith

I analyze my fears—that my recovery program isn’t good enough to sustain recovery, that the pain of withdrawals isn’t going to go away, and that my marriage won’t recover—and my faith (pretty much the opposite). I update my self-boundaries.

City Walls vs Lines in the Sand

I share one of my favorite scriptures—“he that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down and without walls”—and explore how my recovery attempts have shifted from the equivalent of drawing lines in the sand to actually making walls. I set my self-boundaries. Funny drawing included (colored by my son).

I'm Sick...

After an actual illness of the body that I was able to function through, I compare the experience to addiction and comment on the dramatic demands of the body.

Intimacy (Part One) and (Part Two)

After differentiating between “intimacy” and “sex,” these posts explore how addicts lack, but desperately need, the ability to connect emotionally, spiritually, and physically in non-sexual ways. Cool picture.

Opportunity Costs, Addiction, and Picking Up Pennies

I rebut those who claim that “porn doesn’t hurt anybody” by comparing it to passing up a full time job to pick up change out of the gutter full time. I talk about financial, family, and skill capital that has been negatively influenced. Picture.

No Guilt-Free Onions (Part One) and (Part Two)

I share three well-meaning quotes about why wives should be having more sex with their husbands, then attempt to refute their logic—especially as it relates to addict-affected relationships. In part two I include a further claim that lack of sex is harmful; I analyze what kind of harm might come from no sexual relations. I’m still not convinced my title makes much sense, but illustrations included.

Juggling Surgical Equipment

I review my first month of recovery, including communication with my wife, motivation, and help from others. Analogies to juggling and self-surgery combined. Fortunately, no illustrations included.

Why "Recovering Myself"?

This is where I explain the title of my blog, especially as it differs from the previous incarnation which focused on video game addiction. Recovering as in “healing,” “to regain something that has been lost,” and “to cover again.” Pictures and illustrations included.

What is a Pervert?

I complicate the word and concept “pervert,” including statistics about how common pornography use is and a word root analysis arguing that “pervert”—literally “twisted all the way through”—isn’t completely accurate.

Putting Lust in a Half-Nelson

This is where I describe the origin of my pseudo-image, Robert, the Hai Karate girl resister. A classy vintage cologne ad shared and analyzed.

My Origin Story

I share the origin of my lust addiction in this inverted super-hero-gains-super-powers story. I conclude that not only did I not get super powers, but in some ways I sold my birthright for a bowl of poison porridge.

Analysis:
When I visualize my last year of recovery in this way, it's pretty dramatic the support I had before the move in August versus the lack of support afterwards. Some of the most helpful recovery practices disappeared without immediate replacements. I was thinking of making a line of where I was in my recovery, but I think it's pretty clear what it would look like: sloping up until the move, then turning steeply downhill until relapse and finding new supports, then slowly going back up again.

Another thing I realized was how my illustrated posts disappeared right around the time I moved. I suspect that for some reason my motivation towards art is partially a sign of how well my recovery is going, though it might just be my imagination.

Here's to another 365 days of recovery!

Three Personal Insights, Two Addiction Analogies, and One Drawing

I've been struggling with my self-esteem recently. At times when I normally would withdraw and isolate myself I've been trying to reach out and be a part of things, and it's kind of been making me feel vulnerable and anxious. For example, making comments in church yesterday and them not coming out the way they should. Still, I believe being active and working to accept myself is the best thing I could do right now, so I'm going to write a blog post and try not to be so self conscious about it.

So I shared my addiction inventory with my wife and my bishop last week. Both were positive experiences...which isn't too hard when I was expecting that meeting with my wife to cause her to be paralyzed for the next three days. Luckily, she took it much better than that...I probably should have suspected since she already knew almost all of it, but it's still a relief. Additionally, my wife and I had a constructive meeting with our counsellor. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I've gotten a lot of feedback and interesting ideas recently, and I want to share in kind of a hodgepodge way. So here are three insights about myself, two analogies, and one visual representation:

Insight #1: I Actually Did Crave Attention as a Kid

One of the things I prided myself on growing up was how independent I was. My mom would always praise me that I was so little trouble: "I could leave him in his room playing legos, and forget he was there for hours at a time." I believed that was just a part of who I was. Looking back now, though, I realize that I had older siblings who were tough acts to follow. I would hear my parents complain about the trouble and difficulty they were getting from my siblings, and each complaint and praise of me made me want to not let them down or give them reason to complain about me. So I isolated myself rather than admit I had problems. But deep down, I had insecurities and struggles that I needed to deal with, despite outward appearances which I actually believed.

Insight #2: I Do Have Emotions Somewhere

The last few weeks have been helpful for me to feel honest, legitimate love for my wife. I've been emotionally numb for a long time, to the point where I have trouble recognizing what it actually means to love (and thanks to Tim for his recent post on the topic). My mom would always say "I love you" when she would drop me off for school, and I would often just mumble "...you too..." or even worse, "thanks." The last few weeks I've made some realizations about my relationship with my wife.  The first came after we reviewed our journals and the accounts of when we dated. I remember how I wanted to spend every waking hour with her, whether we had something planned or not. I didn't recognize that clearly at the time, but as we've spent more time together talking the last week, I can honestly say "I love you" to my wife at night. It's not that I didn't before, but I'm coming to recognize it more clearly now. I actually have emotions in here!

Insight #3: I Can Trust Real Recovery

Apparently, I'm impatient. And even knowing that about myself doesn't change my impatience! My wife and I have been working at communicating and physical connection for the last few weeks, and we're making fantastic progress. I've been working on recovery, and can honestly say that I feel like I'm in recovery and not just white-knuckling. But sometimes I get worried and anxious about some things my wife does. Does a silence mean she's angry at me, or that she doesn't love me? Does her lack of expression of appreciation mean I'm not actually making the kind of progress I feel like I am? As I write these, I feel dramatic. I need to trust in the real recovery I'm accomplishing and not worry so much about how my wife reacts. She's a good person and will reciprocate when she feels safe. My job is to create an atmosphere of safety and honesty for her and not worry where it goes from there.

Analogy #1: Sexual Feelings as a Locked Door (but Who is Turning the Key?)

Our counselor expressed this analogy a few weeks ago, and it's been really helpful as I try to improve my resistance to lusting during the day. The basic idea is that sexual feelings are locked away inside each of us, and the only person authorized to open that lock is our spouse. Whenever we lust after someone, we're taking the key into our own hands (or breaking the lock, as my wife imagines it) and unlocking those feelings. It changed the way I look at it to realize that a lust hit isn't just a lust hit--it's me breaking into feelings that my wife is the only one who has the right to access.

Analogy #2: Funnel Perspective

My bishop has an analogy that really helps me realize the relationship of perspective and addiction. The basic idea is that addiction and addiction recovery is like a funnel--when we're actively acting out, we're at the bottom of the funnel, unable to see anything except the sides of the tunnel around us. At this point our perspective is so limited that we can't see that our actions are hurting those we love and causing pain. On the other hand, when we have some recovery in us we're at the upper slopes of the funnel, able to look around and see the big picture. The funnel is always headed towards the center, so we need to be sensitive enough in our recovery to see when we're slipping towards to steeper slopes and catch ourselves before we've slipped in.

And One Drawing: 

Sex Ceases to be a Demon Only When it Ceases to be a God

The title of my post is an adaptation from a line in C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves, which he applies to love. Like love, sex can be an appropriate binding power in a marriage, carrying partners past behavior and feelings born simply of duty or good intentions. Over the last week I feel like I've made progress in my understanding of the role sex can have in a marriage and recovery. I thought I'd share.

I've been sleeping on the couch for the past week. My wife and I are about a month through a two-ish month period of in-marriage celibacy, so at first it may seem strange that I would sleep on the couch since we weren't having sex anyways. Still, I think there's a crucial difference. Firstly, is that I chose to sleep on the couch. Additionally, I'm still committed to recovery. If anything, I've been working harder than ever--doing my same recovery work, yes, but also writing love notes to my wife every day, making time to talk with her for a few hours at night, and staying in touch with support people when I need it. I think that's kind of the point. I'm not settling for a little nearness with my wife and a mostly sober existence...I'm showing her (and me) that I'm unwilling to settle for anything less than complete sobriety and a completely loving and appropriate relation within marriage.

Because we haven't had a fulfilling relationship in a lot of ways. It's easy to pretend like things are fine. I've been craving affirming communication and signs of affection (physical but non-sexual touch), and since our celibacy began I wasn't really getting them. I can't really blame my wife. There's a lot of baggage: my desire to connect physically and even emotionally have been partly motivated by addict me.  In the past I've admitted to wanting sex because of lusting during the day. So even though the biggest part of me honestly wants to connect with her, how is she supposed to judge between the honest and the manipulative? On top of all this, she doesn't want to risk triggering me and leading me to acting out. So not only is sex complicated, but even during celibacy dealing with signs of affection and communication feels overwhelming. It's easier for us to avoid our problems rather than work on them.

For example, she would let me cuddle with her if she could warm up her cold feet on me...but that led to a conflict within me. Part of me would say "I don't want her to tolerate physical (non-sexual) touch with me, I want her to want it." Then, the addicted part of me was saying, "I'm willing to take whatever she's willing to give, and maybe I can push the boundary a little." So in a way, she was rewarding my addict self by allowing physical touch without emotional connection. By deciding to sleep on the couch and calmly telling her how I felt, I sent her a message that I'm willing to wait for her--being worthy of her trust--until she's willing to forgive and we're both able to connect with genuine love.

Sleeping on the couch has been uncomfortable for both of us. My discomfort is the easy one--it's a futon. Hers is the emotional. "Isn't that what couples that are on the verge of breaking up do?" or "What if the kids find out, or the neighbors?" or "Is this a sign that he is mad at me or trying to manipulate me?" Maybe it also felt more severe for both of us since I haven't slept anywhere but our bed in our entire nine years of marriage (outside of travel). However, I feel like this discomfort is a positive thing--my wife wasn't very happy about it until she understood my reasoning, but now she knows how much I value her positive communication and her initiating signs of affection. She feels safe that I'm not going to pounce on her if she even pats me on the shoulder. She also knows I'm not going to give in to a little bit of fulfillment. She knows I'm not ok with our habits of poor communication and unreciprocated physical touch, but I still love her and want to work on it.

From my perspective, I know I won't die without sex. I feel more comfortable knowing I can't give into temptations to pounce on her if she even pats me on the shoulder. I now know I can trust my wife to initiate signs of affection and loving communication--I believe I was stifling her by not allowing her the chance. Most importantly, my wife and I have been getting to sleep much later than usual because we love talking and being with each other and connecting in non-sexual ways. Sleeping in separate rooms makes us realize that we don't want to be separated. Although I hope she doesn't come to like having so much room in the bed. :)

We are working on our own recoveries so things can go back to normal. A new normal where we communicate our needs, equally express our love in ways that the other person craves, and where I have ceased to worship sex as the only thing that can make me feel valued or satisfied.

An Emotional Post (Not Really)

So much for "third times a charm." This will be my fourth blog post attempt in a little over a month.

Sometimes I wonder whether I have emotions at all. For example, at a recent ARP meeting there were a number of the other guys shared very heartfelt experiences and testimonies, including getting teared up about the atonement. It's not that I don't feel anything, but a lot of times I find myself sitting in silence, thinking that I should probably be feeling some sort of strong emotion, but nothing really happening. After the most recent confession of relapse to my wife, my guilt and shame registered mentally...but not as much powerfully emotionally as I would have expected. Am I just an inhuman monster that doesn't have feelings, or is there some other explanation?

A week or two ago I met with my counsellor, despite kind of dreading it. I was struggling with hard feelings against him (anger I can manage ok, apparently). As I met with him I told him about what he said that had bothered me and why. I told about how the way he met with my wife and discussed ideas about what might be contributing to my problems made me feel ganged up on and attacked. I told him how last time we met I felt like he was a bit dismissive of my plans for the summer. This sounds like I let him have it, but it was a really uplifting, two-sided, mature sharing of point of views. It was a type of pure conversation that I found very enlightening and hopeful (that maybe I do have emotions that I can connect with). He helped validate my perspective and made me feel listened to.

After the last relapse, my wife and I set a goal to avoid TV as much as possible and talk each night. In a recent conversation we talked about how we react to each other. When I don't add to the discussion, my wife tends to talk about herself and recent thoughts and experiences she has had that might shed light on the topic at hand--she feels like she doesn't want to be prying or force me into sharing anything I don't want to. On the other hand, I feel like she doesn't care about me or my feelings. I don't want to have to prompt her to ask about my feelings, since that won't show that she cares. We reached a conclusion that I need to talk more about what I'm feeling and she needs to show more interest in what I'm thinking and feeling (risking saying something insensitive, which she acknowledges doing and fearing to do again).

I'm seventh out of eight children in my family. Directly ahead of me are three very strong personalities, especially during their teenage years. My wife and I talked about how I coped with following three such powerful personalities, whose problems were often much more visible and pressing than mine seemed to be. I always prided myself on not being needy and wanting attention; however, I'm not so sure that was what was actually going on. I think I felt a deep need to connect with my family, and (especially when pornography came into the picture) I also felt a deep barrier between us. I pushed my feeling and needs down so I wouldn't be a burden...in fact, I still have a strong aversion to feeling like I'm inconveniencing people. My addiction was in part a manifestation of my desire to feel some emotional connection--even if it was through the fake, poisoned outlet pornography offered.

I don't lack emotions. I simply am in the habit of pushing them down so they don't embarrass or inconvenience me or those around me. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that--I have emotional needs that have to be met if I'm going to live a happy and productive life. Rather than taking the easy way out and relying on pornography to feel good about myself--or expecting others to read my mind about how to meet my needs--I need to learn how to stand up for my desire to be understood and emotionally validated if I'm going to have long-lasting recovery.

Book Review: We Will End the Conflict Now

One of the benefits that have come from telling my dad about my addiction has been a book he gave to me about recovering from pornography addiction called We Will End the Conflict Now: Victory Over Pornography From the Perspective of a Recovered Addict and His Wife, by William A and Mae Donne. I finished it recently and thought others here might like to hear about it.

One of my biggest concerns I had when I first looked at the book is evident in the title: "end" the conflict, "victory over pornography," and a "recovered" addict. This definitive phrasing--that pornography is something that has a clear end, that can be conquered, and that can be definitively recovered from--made me very uncomfortable. However, as I read the book, I found that the authors are sufficiently cautious in the way they address addiction and talk about recovery. In fact, near the end of the book, William writes, "The reality is both of you, husband and wife, will spend the rest of your lives recovering and rebuilding trust." On the other hand, he continues by critiquing the saying once an addict, always an addict: "personally, I do not subscribe to this philosophy. I believe hearts can change" (252-253). Though initially skeptical, I'm satisfied that this book represents a realistic, though optimistic, take on recovery. Of the eleven 5-star ratings on Amazon.com (and there are only 5-star ratings), the one by N. Daniel puts it well: "What struck me about this book right away was that it didn't bring back any darkness for me -- quite the opposite -- It felt hopeful and freeing. There was genuine love and understanding in this book. It was not analytical or scientific, it focused on genuine honest communication and truly made me feel more hope for my future." I don't know that I agree about it not being analytical--I think it does analyze experiences and ideas--but I agree its optimistic content isn't focused on science.

Another thing about this book that threw me off at first was the audience. The book is written for a married audience that not only isn't Mormon, but also isn't even necessarily christian...or doesn't believe in God at all. Having read from the Alcoholics Anonymous big book, which is written for this kind of audience, I can see where they're coming from, though it bugged me at first. I also had to reassess my critique based on comments they made about people they had talked to: for example, Mae writes "On the heels of sharing my personal experience before, I have heard people say to some extent: 'that's wonderful for you, but what about for someone like me who doesn't believe in Jesus Christ? I can't just hand my anger and hurt over to him like you did.' My answer: " (244)... and I'm going to make you read the book to find out what her answer is. The fact that they address such questions makes the book appealing to a broad range of audience members (unlike my blog, which is written for a Mormon audience...sorry non-mormons, if there are any reading this). I suppose this makes it work for Mormons who are doubting their faith, which makes it valuable.

I especially appreciated the dual authorship. Around two-thirds of the book is written by William Donne, but both his section and Mae's are written to appeal to both husband and wife. Some of the things in the wife-to-wife section was very helpful for me to read--and likewise, I think some of the things written in the husband-to-husband section would be very good for my wife to read (and I'm planning on having her read it). A sampling of some of the sections include "Part 1: What Is Addiction?," "Is Pornography Adulterous?," "The Real Cause of Addiction," "When Desire is Lacking," "How Long Will It Take?," "Filling the Voids," and "Control Your Surroundings" in William's section and "You Are Not Alone," "Seven Steps of Grieving," "Moving Forward," and "Hope and Healing" from Mae's section.

In short, this book successfully balances optimism with a realistic understanding of addiction and recovery. It relies on practical, real-life examples and literary quotes (especially the bible) without delving into science to explain addiction or recovery. It draws on perspectives from husband and wife while not alienating people who aren't christian or don't believe in God. It is practical and helpful, and I recommend it to anyone who's interested.


Another book I recommend that I should have written a review of is What Can I Do About Him Me? by Rhyll Croshaw. Up next on my list of books to read is He Restoreth My Soul. Let me know any other books about (recovery from) pornography addiction I should read.