| The most important
thing I have learned about my addiction is that I resorted to
it for a reason. Something was lacking in my life, and I
thought that sex was the solution. It wasn’t. What was
really missing in my life was Jesus. I needed Him. I missed
Him and was lonely for Him. When I started letting Him into my
life, my real needs started to be satisfied, and I found the
"need" for my drug start to dwindle away.
Sexual addiction is a difficult topic to write about. By
its very nature, it fills one with shame and isolation. The
individual suffering from this addiction tends to isolate
himself/herself, and secrecy is universal. My sexual addiction
began with puberty, and continued unchecked (interrupted by
short-lived attempts at repentance) for the next 35 years. I
was the youngest child in our family, and as a teenager I was
left home alone a lot. I suffered from poor self- esteem, and
learned to comfort myself with masturbation. Pornography added
an interesting dimension, although it wasn’t really that
available back then. I repented enough to go on a mission, and
got married soon after I returned home.
My adjustment to sex in marriage was difficult, made more
so by my developing addiction. Soon after I was married, I
began to seek out more pornography. Over the next few decades
I struggled frequently to give up the habit. I talked with my
bishops and stake presidents and "cleared things up"
from time to time, but I always reverted back to my addiction.
For a long time I used pornography without masturbating, and
comforted myself with the rationalization that I wasn’t as
bad as some other people. But eventually that barrier fell as
well.
On several occasions I went to the Lord and asked Him to
relieve me of this addiction–to take it away, so I just didn’t
even have the desire anymore. I read the account of King
Benjamin’s people in Mosiah 5:2 whose hearts were changed,
and who had "no more desire to commit sin." I longed
for that blessing in my life, but doubted it would ever come.
On those occasions when I asked to have the desire removed, I
found it was removed for a time, but I always invited it back,
and it was happy to oblige me.
About three years ago I found Heart t’ Heart. I had
gotten so discouraged with my failed attempts at repentance
that I was becoming reconciled to the prospect of having this
addiction control me for the rest of my life. I assumed that
must be what the Lord had in mind for me, since He hadn’t
healed me. I knew there was an organization called Sexaholics
Anonymous, but I had never had the courage to go. Heart t’
Heart sounded a little more friendly.
The experiences I had as I first started attending meetings
were something I look back on as nothing short of monumental,
life-changing. One of the most significant changes that
happened in me was my understanding of God and Jesus. I had
pictured them as loving people, but they surely must have been
disappointed in me, even disgusted with me. I had to come to
realize that all of those judging, blaming thoughts I had had
over the years were coming from my own mind, and from the
taunts of the adversary, not, as I had earlier supposed, as
the promptings of the Spirit. I learned that the Lord is
forgiving, and that He doesn’t ever turn away from us. It is
we who turn away from Him.
I started writing in my journal again, and trying to hear
the Lord’s inspiration to me. I had had some experiences
years before with receiving promptings from the Lord that I
had written down and had regarded as inspired. But I assumed
that gift had been taken away from me years before because of
my mistakes and sins. When I started writing again, I found
that the Lord was just waiting for me, and was happy to
communicate with me once more.
As I learned the 12 Steps, I had to learn humility as well.
I came into the program admitting that I had a problem, and
even that it was unmanageable, but I still thought that
"just a little bit of help" would do it, and I would
be on my way again. But recovery didn’t come that easily. I
had to learn about the "depths of humility," not
just skim along the surface. After a few relapses I had to
admit that I needed the full dose.
The Third Step was a real turning point. When I came to the
decision that I would turn over "my whole life" to
the Savior, and not just try to give Him my addiction, I found
that things began to change. I learned the phrase "be
willing to be willing." I found that at times when I was
invited by the Spirit to let go of some cherished form of
acting out that I really wanted to keep, that I could agree at
least to letting the Lord change my desires, and bring me
around to the point where I became willing to give up whatever
it was. To take the next step. The Spirit reasoned with me:
"If the Lord can make you so you don’t mind giving it
up, then you wouldn’t mind, would you?" That was pretty
hard to argue with. And so act by act, trigger by trigger, one
by one, things started to fall out of my life. With the Lord’s
grace, I was able to stop renting R-rated videos (and worse).
Then I sorted through my own videos and got rid of the R-rated
ones. Then the PG-13 ones that had nudity in them. And so on.
I found that if I was willing, He would take it from me. And
if I kept in contact with Him, on a daily basis, the
compulsion stayed gone. I began spending time each morning
reading from the scriptures and capturing from a few pertinent
verses. I found that the scriptures were easily adaptable to
my own situation, and it was easy to see myself in them, and
to apply the counsel in them to the task of overcoming my own
addiction.
But I also found that I had to keep going back to the Lord
for help, sometimes on a minute-by-minute basis. I started
reading the SA literature, and found a lot of inspiration
there. I read about men who learned to surrender each
temptation to the Lord, with the prayer: "Lord, I can’t
handle this. I am powerless over this temptation. Please take
it from me." I read in D&C 36:6 that the Lord invites
me to "look unto [him] in every thought," even my
unclean ones. And as I surrendered the thoughts I had trained
myself to indulge in over the years, gradually, they left.
As I eliminated the triggering materials from my life that
were under my control (in my possession), Satan turned to my
memories, to remind me of my past sins, and the many images
and other materials I had let into my mind. I thought at first
that I would never get these things out of my mind, but as I
surrendered each memory to the Lord, I found that it lost
power to tempt me. I learned that lust was the habit that had
to be surrendered and let go of, not just the more obvious
forms of acting out.
Today I have a pretty good recovery, thanks to the goodness
and grace of my Savior. I know that what I have is a gift from
Him. I tried to do it on my own for 35 years, and failed
miserably. He has done for me what I could not do for myself.
And that is what grace is. I still have temptations, but they
are ‘way up the slope from where they used to be. The
internet doesn’t tempt me anymore like it used to. Things I
can’t avoid are more of a problem. |
| To my
young friend,
Out of your pain, your frustration, your anger, your
despair, your tiny, fragile desire, you have asked if change
is possible. You have asked for support. Not even sure
that any is available, resenting it even ask you request it.
You have asked for light. From the darkness of your
struggle, from the loneliness of your spiritual isolation,
through the clouds of disbelief. You have wondered: Can
I be trustworthy ever again? Can I be a covenant
keeper? Does God care about me? Why has my path
been strewn with failed dreams, disappointing responses from
those who should have led and loved me, hurt and pain and
hopelessness?
My answers may not satisfy you. I acknowledge my
weakness, my failings, my absolute powerlessness over the
chains of hell that have entrapped me, the utter impossibility
for me to arise on my own against the onslaught of the evil
one, who desires that all men should be miserable like unto
him.
Nevertheless, I bear testimony that God is real, God is
good, help is available, things can be different, change is
possible, prayers will be answered, habits can be overcome,
Satan can be cast out (even by one without the Holy
Priesthood), hope can be felt, peace in small but growing
measure can be experienced, and you do not have to remain a
victim. In fact, as long as you define yourself as a
victim, you will never get better.
I wish there were a simple formula, a recipe for succeeding
where you have failed. There is not. Repentance (literally
turning from something destructive toward something life
giving and life sustaining) is not easy. It is possible. It is
not simple. It is straightforward. It is not
beyond our reach. Satan would tell you that you have
gone too far, for too long, in too many circumstances.
He lies. He always lies. He has a hundred, a
thousand lies.
I have heard the ones that play on my
vulnerabilities. He has lied to me for years, telling me
it is too late, it is not possible, that even if the atonement
is real, it can’t apply to me because I am defective, that I
will never be good enough to merit the love and approval and
approbation of a loving, eternal Father. Satan
lies. I am loved. I always have been. And so
are you.
You may argue for your worthlessness. I did.
You may "make a case" for why you are too bad, and
the gospel of repentance cannot apply to you. I
did. You may even try, from time to time, to have a foot
in both camps, be "righteous" whenever you can, but
the rest of the time, do what is necessary to numb the ever
present pain, the shame, the discouragement of failing.
No matter that such numbing invariably requires you to cross
the lines and boundaries the Lord has set. Satan says
that it is no one’s business but your own. Never mind
that dozens, hundreds of times you have tried, sincerely
tried, to stop the habits and patterns of indulgence that seem
to provide the only comfort, the only break from the anguish
and agony of self-disappointment. That described my
life, too, for years, for nearly four decades of deceit and
hypocrisy, deception and duplicity, double mindedness and
spiritual thrashing. There is a way out.
I used to feel that what the Lord asked of me was like an
impossible task, like constructing a personal bridge from one
side of the Grand Canyon, arching up and over the gaping
divide to the other side. Only I had to build it alone,
with materials I carried myself, starting on one side, being
self supporting. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t
have the materials. And I could never must the courage
or faith to get farther than a few feet from the edge, because
Satan told me I would surely fall, crashing in disaster,
humiliation and destruction on the rocks far below. In
other words, I would build a few feet. I would pray a little,
read scriptures a little, be active where and when convenient,
even try with sincere purpose of heart (a little) to repent or
to be honest in worthiness interviews, or at least not
blatantly lie, just manipulate or shade the truth for
appearance sake, because underneath the appearance was a
desperate desire to actually be OK. But three or four
feet from the edge, I would begin the inevitable painful
stretch, leaning out to add the next plank in the bridge, yet
still keeping one foot safely and securely on the
ground. It was truly an impossible task, trying to leave
the edge yet cling to the edge, to change my ways yet hang on
to my ways, to the beliefs that kept me trapped.
I wondered continually if recovery was possible, or was I
really worse than all the others I met at meetings and in the
many books I had read. I believed that I would never be OK;
that I was alone; that the truth of my life, if thoroughly
known by anyone, would cause them to fully reject me for the
worthless, weak, filthy, unworthy thing I was; that no one
would ever be there for me. I believed that my greatest need,
the only need that ultimately mattered because it was the one
that consistently and reliably gave me relief and numbed, even
temporarily, the reality of my awful circumstance, was some
kind of sexual indulgence, whatever it cost in time and money
and secrecy and loss of esteem.. It wasn’t an option for me,
it was a necessity that I had learned to live with, it was a
last resort I had come to accept without question, it was the
only predictable thing in my life that I, ultimately, could
control.
Do elements of this sound familiar to you? The
specific indulgences, the actual patterns of acting out, may
differ somewhat. But the repetitive, familiar cycles of
determination, disappointment, white-knuckling, resisting,
indulging when the wave becomes too intense, the momentary
relief, the predictable remorse, self loathing, even suicidal
tendencies. Then a gradually dawning awareness that life goes
on, until the cycle starts again– perhaps that is all too
familiar. I have seen it over and over and over. I
have lived it. Over and over and over. I was in
despair perpetually.
I had essentially given up. Satan on the sidelines
was cheering with his minions, "take others down with
you, it doesn’t matter any more, it will never change, you
are defective, it cannot work."
And then the miracle. An explosion, emotionally, that
resulted in an assault on my wife. A visit to a caring
bishop. The operation of the Spirit. A decision to
finally, once and for all, deal with everything– the long
years of deception and duplicity, the details of a lifetime of
sin and pain and anguish. Ten pages of handwritten
notes, reviewed item by item, pored over by a leader guided by
the Spirit. Searching, fearless questions as the muck
and mire of addiction were sifted through. Is there
anything else? What have you left out? More
writing. More reflection. More recalled memories,
going back to childhood experiences, temptations, wrong
choices, sometimes innocent mistakes, sometimes terrible
depredations. In the end, the list was run through a
shredder. Then probation. Then a disciplinary
council. Then excommunication. Then separation
from wife and family. Then the wilderness.
What is a year in the wilderness like?
Horrible. I thought I would surely die. I could
not see an end. I was utterly alone, I felt. I
lived away from home. I struggled to work and to go,
somehow, from day to day, living a solitary life. Some
elements of the experience remain. But the truth is that
after all I had done, all my acting out, all my sin and tears
and the hurt in the lives of wife and children and friends,
after the arrests and the disappointment and the emotional and
professional and financial costs, God was still there.
Revelations came, here and there. "I never left
you. I was always there with you. I could not let you succeed
because you would have learned a lie, that you could do it
alone, on your own, using your skill and brain and
determination, and that is a lie. No one can do it
alone. But I have paid the price for you, and if you
will, finally, come to Me, I will heal you."
"Liken the scriptures to yourself today, now, in your
wilderness– I will teach you." "Stop blaming
others, your parents, your wife, your employer, your brothers
and sisters, your deceased father, Me. Not until you take
responsibility will you be able to change. I can give
you a new heart. Submit. Stop trying to do it
yourself. Set your pride aside and come to
me." The words and the feelings were real.
And they were enough, just barely, to keep me going, to keep
me trying.
The daily despair was horrible. The daily assaults
experienced as buffetings of Satan, as the protecting,
comforting gifts of the Holy Ghost were gone, the blessings
and privileges of the priesthood were gone, the opportunities
of church membership were gone, the companionship and
association of family was largely gone. I wondered if,
indeed, I would be destroyed in the flesh. It was
awful. For a time, I considered, with resentment and
vindictiveness, the possibility of joining another church,
since the LDS church "didn’t want me." Flashbacks
still occur, and they are still horrible. But gradually,
as I read and attended Heart t’ Heart and other
fellowship and 12 step meetings with a new perspective and a
humbler attitude, I begin to feel stirrings of hope. The
patterns of indulgence lessened. I sought therapy from a wise,
caring therapist. I read and re-read the Book of
Mormon, learning to liken the scriptures to me.
Every verse, nearly, came alive with meaning for me, for now,
for right now. I was often in tears as the temporary effect of
the Spirit cleansed me and gave me hope in Christ. I read
other literature. I read about the addiction. I learned about
my family patterns, inter-generational patterns, which had
predisposed me to be susceptible to this terribly destructive
pattern. I learned why patterns of sexual indulgence were
self-inflicted bonds that Satan gladly helped with. I
corresponded with others on an LDS chat line for recovering
addicts.
I studied He Did Deliver Me, trying to listen to
what the Spirit would teach me about each step of repentance,
each step of transformation, each step broken down into
manageable bites that I could take and that others would
assist me with. I shared with others who did not judge. I had
the chance to bear testimony in those settings since I could
no longer bear testimony at church. I cannot honestly say
there was a day when despair turned to hope, when hopelessness
turned to desire fueled by belief. I do not know the hour nor
the setting when the tide began to turn. I know of my
impatience (still) and my wanting to know what was going to
happen next, when the next event or next confession or next
revelation might be. But something happened; something
has changed. Perhaps it was many small victories, many
small steps forward, gradually untangling the chains,
gradually unwrapping the threads one by one. I do recall the
stark awareness, when I decided once to give it one last try,
to step out onto that bridge partially sticking out from the
side of the canyon, and discovering as I took that literal,
spiritual leap of faith, much to my amazement, that I did not
fall, that I did not crash, that the whole metaphor, the whole
ethereal construction was an illusion.
Satan had lied to me, and kept me so terrified that I could
not let loose of the edge, representing my lifestyle of sexual
acting out. What a revelation! It was actually
exhilarating. If Satan had lied about this, what about
other things he had whispered to me? I gradually came to
know that I had lost the capacity to tell truth from
error. I could no longer tell what were my ideas and
ideas placed cleverly in my mind by Satan. Very scary
realization. I read books by Cramer, learning how to
battle Satan, learning that the battle is real, and that my
soul was at stake. I learned that I would eventually be
sealed to someone, either God or the devil. After a
number of wonderful, encouraging priesthood blessings, and
many months, I finally was instructed that Satan would keep
coming back until I cast him out, and that even without the
priesthood, I could cast out Satan, in the name of Jesus
Christ, who had died for me. I read an exhaustive new
book on the infinite atonement. I read Don’t Call
it Love. Then I set aside all books for nearly a
year, just concentrating on the scriptures. I made a
commitment to arise at 5:00 am daily, and study His
word. Early mornings were a battle, but I can testify
that after a year of early rising, missing only a few days,
that I have been richly rewarded, sometimes immediately but
usually later, in blessings and sustaining I felt when times
were especially difficult.
Where am I today? Still fighting the fight. But
feeling much hope. Feeling much desire. Wanting to
go forward. Another disciplinary council, to consider
rebaptism, is awaiting. Later, there may be a
possibility of having blessings restored, even the sealing of
a wife and children in an eternal family unit. I visit
regularly with church leaders. I participate with my own
family in prayer and daily life, trying to serve, to learn and
to grow. I still see a therapist periodically. I
sleep separately from my wife. Neither of us knows what
kind of relationship may be possible, through the healing
power of Christ. We hope that reconciliation is
possible, for our sake and our children’s sake. None
of this is easy. But days are filled with hope
now.
I feel more worthy, even though I am not qualified to be a
member of the church, than I remember feeling since I was
ordained a deacon. I am calmer and more full of faith
when on my knees. Daily my heart is broken as I go to
the only source we can ultimately trust, the Lord Jesus
Christ. I know the atonement applies to me. I did
not believe that for many, many years. I believe it now.
Change is possible. Transformation is possible.
God loves you and me and wants us home, and His arm is
stretched out all the day long. When we despair, we are
putting faith in Satan. It can be different. It
requires a kind of submission that I never knew before.
It requires constant effort, and then the results come through
our beloved Savior, not our own efforts. Who needs the
atonement? All have sinned and come short of the glory
of God. One day at a time, I know recovery is
possible. It is the path I am
on.
! !
! |
