Dust vs. Pride

I have other things I really want to write about right now, but I'm going to try taking a different direction.  Instead I'll write why I chose to name my blog "of the dust" and maybe I can spill a little of what I'm feeling while I'm at it.  Maybe.  That way I can avoid getting too down in the dumps by keeping a higher purpose for writing tonight.

So.  Pride.

I use to think I was the least prideful person.  (laughing... right now)  I saw only charity and love and selflessness and Christlike goodness.  I relied on my check-list to prove it:  I was an RM.  I always had teaching callings.  I was always the one that took on the heavy problems of others when nobody else had the patience or time.  (haha ...codependency anyone?)  I commented in every sunday school class.  Etc.  I had a big reputation on my mission too - the Elders from other zones who hadn't met me, but heard of me, would shake my hand with big eyes and say "Oh YOU'RE Sister (I need a name... looking around my room now... lamp!!)  Oh YOU'RE Sister Lamp!"  Don't get me wrong.  Never did I feel like I was a good enough missionary or girl or anything.  In fact I was extremely hard on myself.  I was that missionary whose district leaders gave assignments such as "Sister Lamp, will you do something FUN for at least 10 minutes everyday?  Like, get a slurpee or something??"  I still think that was a dumb assignment, lol.  I had to be perfectly busy in the work.  I had obey with exactness or die.  (okay... I wasn't ALWAYS so obedient... sometimes I got home at 9:05 pm instead of 9:00 pm.  I know I know!)  Tonight we read Step 9 at group, and I realized I "HAD to" because... I was only afraid to fail a sense of duty and expectation.  This wasn't always the case; my mission was honestly the best time of my life.  But especially toward the end, I more often slipped into needing to keep up with the sense of value I'd given my own self!  Instead of remembering the Lord made me valuable already, and that my success was in fact His.  Not mine.  I didn't work purely because I loved the Lord and His children.  This only grew worse over time after I got home.  I had the RM standard to uphold.  Completing the check list was the only way I knew how to feel "of worth."  I was nothing without it my callings and service.  I'd forgotten the value behind just being me, a daughter of God.

Soon after spilling that secret about sexual addiction to my therapist, he gently taught me about shame first, and then pride.  Another great wedge Satan uses to separate us from the one source of true healing--our Savior.  He said we can use pride to isolate.  That's when my ears perked.  I didn't think I knew anything about pride.  But I knew every last thing about isolation.  He said we use our pride to hide, even from ourselves, and even from God.  Some of us build up a successful-at-work-pride.  Some of us build up a spirituality-pride.  Some build a good-grades, or constantly-serving, or always-partying, or I-have-lots-of-money, etc, pride.  Any way to hide our reality.  To pretend we're fine.  Pride can put a blanket of disguise over our pain, our sins, our fears, our imperfections, our wants and needs, our honesty.  Our sincerity.  Who we really are, and what we really feel.  We isolate with our pride because of shame -- we're ashamed to admit less than perfect, less than happy, less than successful.  The more pride, the more isolation, the more lonely we feel, the more anxious and depressed we get, .....and the more we seek self-medicating, self-soothing tactics (aka addictions).

What does that mean for us?  We're cheating ourselves out of the beautiful human experience of connecting with other humans on that deeper level, recognizing together our need for a Savior and our mutual hopeless incapability.

Welp.  Turns out, I know all about pride.  ...Dang.

So, why "of the dust?"

At first consideration of starting a recovery blog, self-aware caution flags flew up.  I've been afraid I'll write for all the wrong reasons.  Trying to convince people I'm so good.  Trying to show off "my awesome spirituality in recovery and learning the steps."  Trying to convince myself that I'm fine, and that I don't need anything, that I got this on my own.  Afraid this will turn into another route I use to avoid reality; another obsessive addiction.  Afraid blogging will replace journaling and working the steps and studying scriptures and getting homework done.  Afraid people won't read.  Afraid I'll write for readers instead of me.  Afraid of writing for me instead of readers.  Wait...  "So who do I even write for??" I asked my sponsor.  The same thought came to my mind as she suggested it.  "Write for your Savior."  I can't afford to let that pride-wedge separate me from my Savior again, and I'm already not doing super great in that area.  But maybe I can focus on writing for my Savior.  I can try at least.

I told my therapist my concerns with getting prideful again.  He said a great way to dispel pride is to call it out and expose it.

So this is me calling it out!  Take that!

My Recovery Blog would need a name that helps me remember my goal.  I recalled the first man, Adam, was created out of "the dust of the earth."  Which to me is very symbolic.  We are referred to less than the dust of the earth in the scriptures several times.  Check this one out:

Helaman 12:7 O how great is the ^anothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are ^bless than the dust of the earth." 

8 For behold, the dust of the earth moveth hither and thither, to the dividing asunder, at the command of our great and everlasting God. 

Next is says mountains break and the earth shakes simply at the power of His voice.  You think moving some dust is a problem for God?  So then how can we think that we humans, who are less than the dust, can do anything of any value or worth or greatness without Him?  How can we think our lives happened in His absence?  How can we think we aren't seen, that we're forgotten, that there is no great and divine plan for us?  Why would we try to move without the help of someone so aware and so powerful?  He wants more for us.  He wants the BEST for us.  Going it alone ends in misery.  Unfortunately many of us have strangely come to believe that being alone is more comfortable than reaching out for help and love and support.  And many of us believe we don't deserve help or love or support anyway.  Hello shame.  Hello satan.  Hello lies.

I want to remember I am of the dust.  I want to remember and know and believe my life and I can't move without Him.  That I'm in His hands.  That Heavenly Father sent Jesus Christ to this earth to complete the greatest, mort heroic, horrid, and beautiful act for me.  So that I can find comfort in darkness.  So that I don't have to be alone ever.  So that I can make mistakes and still be important and lovable and worth it.  So that I can change (repent).  So that I can be loved and important just because I'm me.  But only by His power is any of it possible.  Pretending to be fine all the time is pride keeping me away from the power of Jesus Christ's atonement.

So this is me.  I truly am of the dust.

Joining the Ranks

So.  I'm about to join the ranks of the great Recovery Bloggers.  I've read many of them, loved them, related to them, been inspired by them, and learned from them.  I think it is time for my own to begin.  I'm pretty young in recovery, but, I want a place to record my journey and what I'm learning even in the early days of my effort to recover, with added hopes that someone else can possibly benefit here.  I've learned by now that I'm not the only person who feels crazy, disconnected, unable to trust people, especially myself, like I'm wearing a mask all day everyday, and like I'll never know life without it.  I know I'm not the only one trying to avoid facing my demons by wrapping myself up in addictions of all kinds.  I can't be the only girl finding her life is passing by very quickly, with much MUCH less to show for it than her young bright-eyed self had dreamed.

I've already started blogging before really introducing myself or my blog.  I just couldn't wait that long.  Had to write!  Ya know.  Holidays are rough!  Right??  ;)

I'm excited and nervous to begin.  I'll explain later.  More to come!

Weekend with the FAM

Step FOUR.

Currently, to me step four is being willing (yes willing, not able or good at or successful or perfect at) willing to look at our past and consider that we built our mud houses ourselves.  And willing to consider that we ourselves chose to continue living in them.  Even though some of us didn't even think about getting a better house, or realize we even had the option.

So holidays happened.  Family time.  Lots of family time.  With all those people we love to pile all our mud on and say "your fault" "your fault" "your fault."  Poor me poor me... you get the idea.  In my head, for all these years, I've really believed that.  I'm always the victim, of course!!  How could any of this be my fault.  All I ever did was try to help everyone else!  Alas... tisn't true.  For now as I am looking back... and asking Heavenly Father to guide my thoughts and trusting Him to open my eyes... this holiday season I'm beginning to see differently.  As I look at what I, myself, have done to build joy in relationships... I don't see much to look at.  I do see wild attempts in all the wrong places.

I believe, now, the truth is this.  I don't feel joy in my family because I don't take risks.  Thus no trust.  Thus no development.  Thus... no love or intimacy or joy.  I don't express myself, I'm not honest with my feelings, I don't share my trials or triumphs, I'm not vulnerable in the least, and I don't set boundaries.  I can't remember a time that I ever did any of it.  I wear a smile.  I say everything is great.  All the time.  I lie and lie and lie.  I don't give anyone a chance to love the real me.  I make it worse by creating situations to be upset.  If I get 5 seconds of advice, I hold a grudge forever because so-and-so tried to tell me what to do "and wince, pout, they don't even know who I am!"  HELLOOO whose fault is that??

Though I've never been very honest, I was at least somewhat committed.  But I only seemed to step up when I felt needed.  But this past year, I gave up in the commitment field too.  Now I don't visit.  I don't call.  I don't text.  I show up when I have to - holidays and special events.  And when I'm there, I wrap myself up in my safe places to avoid the rest (safe places: the nieces and nephews, aka: the constant tender mercies of my life; little humans who shower me with love no matter what).

By the third day home I was done.  "Okay.  This is great.  It's all my fault.  I am the loser I've been fighting to prove I'm not.  I just wanna hide my face.  Nobody look at me."  There's no way I can be honest at this point.  "Hi, I've been hating you for years because of my loneliness, and for judging me, and now I realize you were mostly correct, my loneliness is on me, and you're a really great person."  Finally Sunday night as I'm driving home to my little college apartment, ever so numb now, wondering what in the world I'm going to say when my roommates ask, "So how was your holiday?"  (I've successfully avoided the question so far), I finally remembered I hadn't talked to Heavenly Father about all the many thoughts floating around my frozen emotionless mind (which is major progress for me to even think of that - thank you Holy Ghost!).  But.  I had no desire to pray.

Then I remembered.  I can be honest with God.

So I began.  Outloud.  "Heavenly Father... I don't wanna talk to you right now... "  I continued from there with every honest thought I could muster.  I eventually asked for help.  I went back to Step 1.  I said I have a lot of work to do and I can't do it alone.  I remembered Step 2 as I asked for tender mercies to help me know change is possible.  I thought of Step 3 and I asked for help to trust that He'll help everything work out in His time if I continue to work the steps.  I told him I felt ashamed.  He helped me be able to say and feel that it is what it is, I recognized Satan's part in the shame, and started to feel hopeful, and even a little bit grateful.  I learned a lot after all, and now change can happen.  I ended with asking for help finding my feelings again even if it takes a couple days to "thaw."

Confidence is being able to accept our imperfection and weaknesses and act anyway.  Pride is the opposite--trying to pretend and possibly even trying to convince ourselves we're perfect.

To me, Step 4 means being willing to take a good look at our mud houses we built, and being willing to consider that it is in fact OK to walk with confidence despite the mud on our feet.  

So.  I'm willing to consider.