Church

I was having a tough conversation with a very good friend of mine who was, and still is being hurt by the church.

Because of her current circumstance, my friend had to make some very difficult changes in her life. Someone well respected in the faith who disagreed with some of those changes asked her, "So have you renounced your faith?" insinuating that a certain "choice" she had made meant that she had turned her back on God, or that for some reason God couldn't love her anymore because of something she couldn't control. And it's messed up. While it's possible that the person asking was concerned for my friend's walk with God, the question itself is so insulting and marginalizing for someone who is hurting and trying to navigate their new normal. 

It may also bring up feelings of abandonment from both peers at church and from God. I truly believe my friend made the right decision to move forward with her life. Those changes came at a huge cost and tears and required a lot of courage. I can't imagine making a change like that knowing that it would also mean that God would stop loving me.

When I heard of my friend's situation, it was familiar - but I felt that I couldn't relate because I had never experienced this myself.  At least directly. 

As I read more about addiction and the 12 steps I realize how addiction support groups are all borne from the same fear that people have of abandonment from the church or from God. I've been a member of four different churches in my adult life, and I don't think I would feel safe admitting my addiction, fears or issues with anybody on a Sunday.  The risk is that if I admit the addiction, I would become that guy with a sexual addiction. I would be that guy that doesn't have the faith to conquer his sin. I would be the that guy that wouldn't be safe to have around their children or wives or girlfriend. I would be that guy that turned his back on God to masturbate.

In his book "Samson and the Pirate Monks", Nate Larkin talks about a person who decided to take the church's rhetoric about grace and forgiveness at face value and bare his soul in a desperate bid for freedom:

As soon as the fateful words were uttered he looked around, hoping somebody would say, “Me too,” but all he heard were crickets. After a pause, a curious investigator launched into spiritual cross-examination. Then a few concerned “ex-sinners” gathered around him and preached a series of sermons disguised as prayers. Finally, a helpful brother prescribed three Scripture verses to be taken in the morning and at bedtime. Later, the guy was assigned to a probation officer—excuse me, an “accountability partner”—who would check in on him for a few weeks to make sure he had actually turned around.

In all this religious activity, he heard this message loud and clear: “You have lost status, boy. For the foreseeable future, you can forget about being a leader in this group, or even a trusted member. Maybe later, if you can demonstrate that you have been fully rehabilitated and if you promise never to speak that way again, we will consider reinstating your membership.

I feel like there's very little safety in the Sunday church for those that have problems, are hurting or need to talk.  The Sunday church is great if you want to serve, learn, talk about sports, and feel like you're a part of something. The people mean well, and I don't say that with any cynicism - but most are simply unequipped with dealing with the hurt and those that are seeking help and support.

Many people who attend addiction support groups consider their time with each other what the real church should be. There is a real freedom in being able to share something, and being met with the kind of silence that means understanding, heartbreak and solidarity.  The feeling that you get when you know somebody is hearing your story, internalizing it and carrying you through it.  There is a real freedom in knowing that someone else has also fought your battle, is still fighting the same battle, and has found daily victory.

It's so true when Nate says:

In church we are allowed to speak of past victories over sin, but not battles that are still underway. As a result we promote a gospel of our own construction. This is not the gospel the New Testament talks about, the foundation strong enough to bear the weight of the world and the depravity of the redeemed. Ours is flimsy, too fragile to carry our failures.

I'm thankful I do not have to deal with this addiction alone, and my heart breaks for those that feel like they have to face their problems without any help.  Addicts like to keep things hidden, and they do that because of fear. Courage from fear can only come from a place where they can see victory in sight, where there are others to help them, and where they won't feel abandoned.

App: I am Sober

So I've decided to start using an app to track my sobriety rather than just noting it on my calendar. I did a quick search on Google and found the "I Am Sober" app.

Click here to download on Google Play
Click here to download for iOS devices

At a first glance, it's easy to use and it looks like it has most of what I need:

• A calendar that keeps track of my relapses
• A way to easily track my current date of sobriety
• A calculator that tells me to the very second how long I've been sober.
• Sobriety milestones

And I also like several of the other features:

• Tracking how much time or money I have saved being sober.
• A daily check-in, where I review whether or not I stuck to my pledge.
• Daily motivational quotes and phrases to help keep me going
• The ability to share my sobriety timeline and goals.

There are additional paid features, but most of them are cosmetic and different sets of motivational quotes. An additional paid feature is the ability to lock the app - but since I generally don't allow others to use my phone I don't need it.

There is one thing that I wish the app was better at, and that's the sharing feature. I was hoping to be able to keep a live counter or sobriety calendar on this website. The sharing feature is currently available for export, meaning others can't see how you're doing unless you choose to show them that day.

I'm beginning to realize that I need some structure around my sobriety, and that involves daily reflections, check-ins and boundaries.  This app doesn't solve any problems (only God can do that), but it does provide motivation, encouragement and a tool that can help me reflect a bit better.

I haven't checked out any other apps (I've heard another app "Nomo" is fairly good as well), but I'm satisfied with what's here.  Let me know if any of you have found any other tools that has been helping you out.

Seriously.

Relapsed again. I need to start getting serious about the whole mess.

I'm afraid to put any boundaries in place because the addict in me always wants to leave the door open a crack just in case I want (or need) to act out again on the addiction.  But if I'm serious about the whole thing, I'm realizing I need to be relentless with the boundaries and putting some in place that would be difficult for me to break and aren't just soft mental barriers.  If anybody has any ideas for me on how to handcuff me, at least to get started on my journey, then please share.  In the meantime, I really have to put pen to paper start planning.

The Unfortunate One

From Chapter 5 of he Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous:

Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to the simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves. There are such unfortunates. They are not at fault; they seem to have been born that way. They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty. Their chances are less than average. There are those, too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders, but many of them do recovery if they have the capacity to be honest.

In 2012, I went through the 12 Steps. It was a year long, grueling period of my life with a lot of self-reflection, hard work, time and effort.  But as described above, I now see myself as one of the unfortunates that couldn't be honest with himself, or develop a manner of living that demands rigorous honesty.

As I'm going through the material a second time, I read in wonder how none of these texts on honesty ever jumped out at me or made me feel guilty the first time I went through it. I can't remember any of it -- and the books are filled with pages and pages about how foundational honesty is to sobriety. I was so wrapped up in staying sober by the other practical methods (boundaries, check-ins, habits) that I neglected where I feel now the real healing is.  You can't maintain any sort of happiness or joy if you aren't honest with yourself.  You also can't have or maintain any genuine friendships without being honest with those that care for you. And of course, as I'm learning these days, a marriage will not survive without honesty.

The true delusion is that I have always thought of myself as an overall honest person, except when I'm not.  I know of all my lies, omissions and half-truths - and there are a lot of them - but for some reason I still see myself more honest than the average person.

Upon reflecting on my entire life, I'm not so sure. I do recall a time in Jr. High (Middle School) where I did tell myself that I lie a lot. I boasted about a lot of things: things I could do that I really couldn't, events in my life that never happened, and virtues in my life that I never really had. I had an artificially inflated ego, and because I was already accomplished, likable and seemed trustworthy I feel like everybody accepted it.  I was never called out on a lie, because I was just so good at it. I did have a fear that I would be found out, and I sometimes did have trouble keeping all of my stories straight, but I managed and nobody knew me well enough to know for sure.

I have a person in my life that is a chronic liar. He lies about everything, even if there is no reason to.  I hate it. The fact that he thinks I'm stupid enough to try even attempt to lie to me about something as innocuous about how much he paid for the latest video game he bought drives me to anger. I don't even care in the first place how much you paid, guy - even if you claim it was 80% less than retail. But I'm pretty sure the reason I hate it so much, while my wife just lets it go, is that I see a lot of myself in him - and I have always been self-aware enough to see that.  We both lie to get validation, affirmation and to inflate our egos.  It takes one to know one. The difference is that his lies are easily debunked, and mine are easily hidden, hard to prove, convincing and damaging to those around me. 

While this liar in my life lies about dumb things like what great deals he gets at the store, tall tales where he stood up for his principles, and exaggerations about his popularity in his teenage years, I can at least read him like a book. He is still somehow genuine, even with his lies. He doesn't hide who he really is.  I know his passions, his faults, I know what bothers him and I know his convictions.

On the other hand, I lie about who I fundamentally am. I hide and lie about my passions, thinking that others will make fun of me. I hide and lie about my opinions, in case someone thinks differently than me. I hide and lie about what hurts me, because I don't want other people to know that I'm broken.  Nobody really knows me, and it's not because of my lies - but rather my lack of honesty.

It's strange to think that one can be a liar but still be a genuine, authentic and transparent person.  Maybe even honest.

This time around, I do know that the only path to my ongoing sobriety is rigorous honesty.  It will be hardest part for me.  Eight years ago, when I first worked the steps, the hardest part for me was disconnecting myself from screens and media for 90 days.  Yes, it was hard, but looking back it really wasn't any work and it was easy to see how it would be good for me to do so.  Honesty though? Being genuine? I've knitted my entire world around lies, and to undo the whole tapestry that has taken me 40 years to build will be painful for me, those around me, those I love, and even for future me.

I do hope that I'm not one of the Unfortunate Ones. Born incapable of honesty. Unable to ever find recovery. Right now I feel like it's a huge mountain to climb. I'll feel exposed.  Naked. And even I don't know what I look like under 

Mr. Blue

Good things come to an end, and last night I watched the final eight episodes of BoJack Horseman on Netflix.

It's the best show I've ever watched. In fact, nothing comes close. The show is important to me.  But I have a hard time recommending it to anybody - because for a animated series it's insanely real and at times can be overwhelmingly depressing. The show BoJack Horseman depicts addiction, depression, codependency, and relationships in an incredible way. If you're an addict or in recovery, try to give it a watch - although there may be some triggering scenes in there if you're a recovering alcoholic, sex-addict or drug addict.  Addicts will find out something about themselves in each character.  Also, if somebody you care about is an addict, please give the show a shot. It's eye-opening, and will help you see what's best not only for the addict, but for yourself as well.

 I'm turning 40 this year, and I've been fortunate enough to never really lose anybody close to me to death (except for my dog) and I've never lost an important relationship before. It's all new to me.  I'm trying to come to terms that there are some things that... simply just end. Whether they be marriages, friendships, lives, chapters in your life, or even your favorite television show. And sometimes there's nothing that you or anybody else can do to control the inevitable.

My wife told me a month ago that for the whole marriage she "tried so hard to love me."  The implication in that statement is that she never really did love me, but she tried.  And at the time she said this it crushed me. But I think that through our 20 year relationship the love was always there.  Even now, I can feel that she cares deeply for me, my recovery and the path that I set out before me.  But even though the love is there, sometimes love can't conquer divorce, death, or change.

In the end of BoJack Horseman, two of the main characters set diverging paths for themselves. They clearly have a love for one another, but in order to move on and to be happy they both have to leave each other behind, ending the relationship.

I understand my wife needs to leave me to find her happiness. It's impossible for her to be happy and still be in this marriage and I respect and honor that. It's shitty and I wish things were different. But there are small moments where I can see the beauty in it as well.  Sometimes, to find happiness and wellness we have to leave behind the things that we love.

Mr. Blue - Catherine Feeny (Finale song from BoJack Horseman) 

Mr. Blue
I told you that I love you
Please believe me 

Mr. Blue
I have to go now
Darling don't be angry 

I know that you're tired
I know that you're sour and sick and sad
For some reason
So I'll leave you with a smile
Kiss you on the cheek
And you will call it treason 

Mr. Blue
Don't hold your head so low that you can't see the sky
Mr. Blue
It ain't so long since you were flying high 

That's the way it goes
Some days a fever comes at you
Without a warning
And I can see it in your face
You've been waiting to break
Since you woke up this morning 

Mr. Blue
I told you that I love you
Please believe me

Sometimes I hold on to hope that my wife will "come to her senses" and will realize she will be happy if everything went back to the way things were.  But "the way things were" doesn't really exist anymore. Things can't be undone. No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.  And I realize now that for her, there was no happiness to be found in the past.  Not with what she knows now.