Monthly Archives: September 2014
My husband had a birthday yesterday. Given how horrible the weekend was I’m surprised I was happy to make him a cake. A real cake, not one filled with dirt clods. I also made a fancy dinner. I had his parents over as well. (His parents know now.) They are great people. I wanted to go to the women’s support meeting last night when he went to his addiction recovery meeting so they were kind enough to stay here and play games and help with homework while we went out. Afterwards, he tried to talk to his parents about how grateful he is for their love all these years–especially his teenage years when he was acting out and they were so kind and patient with him. They obviously knew about the expensive 900 numbers, but they also knew about a few other instances. Never once did they shame him. They always started out each painful conversation by telling their teenage son how much they loved him. Great people.
I talked to him this morning about my issues with priesthood worthiness and how it doesn’t really mean a damn. In the church we talk loads about how wonderful it is that men get to hold the priesthood, what a huge responsibility it is, and yet in the end, worthiness doesn’t really matter. He blessed the babies, baptized them as children, and has ordained or set apart the kids as they’ve gotten older. All this while he wasn’t worthy. It’s just so painful. How horrible would it have been to have spoken up and said “I’m not worthy to do this?” Would the world have ended? He had about as much authority as I have (that’s another topic!) and yet all those ordinances are valid and all is forgiven and forgotten. It makes me sick.
I made an appointment with our Bishop to go talk to him about these issues. Why I have no idea. It’s not like he is going to have any insight but who knows, maybe he will. It just burns me up that if the statistics are correct and 50% of men view porn then that means half of our priesthood leaders don’t have the Spirit with them which means there’s a reason everything is a mess in the church. So many men are terrible leaders and now I understand why–plenty are addicted to porn and lust and you can’t have the Spirit to lead and guide your efforts when you are not worthy of it. It all feels so hopeless. I stay in the church because I want to be like Christ–I don’t want to be like anyone else, the men or the women. I need to become who God needs me to become. But with bitter feelings like this I will never become who I need to become. I beg Heavenly Father in my prayers to take away my anger, bitterness, betrayal, and sadness. How long before that prayer is answered?
I made an appointment with a therapist at LDS Family Services. I’ll go see him next week. I think I need to make a list of all the crap that I’m having a hard time getting over. But the #1 thing I need to get over it this: why couldn’t my husband ever be honest with me about this problem? We were best friends. How does one keep a secret like this from his spouse and best friend? Why did he never have one tiny bit of clairvoyance and clear thought and announce to me “I’ve had a problem since I was 12”.
I keep asking my husband what was his exit strategy, meaning, at what point was he going to fill me in on this double life he was leading? He said there was never a plan to tell me. Ever.
I asked him if like the man in this talk he was going to go to the grave with his secret or else tell me on his death bed like a coward trying to clear his conscience before he met his maker. Again, he said he never thought about it.
I asked him if he ever worried that he would get hit by a bus and die and be afraid of hell because of his sins? Again, he never thought about it.
I asked him, “So you were just going around like a zombie? Never having any thoughts or plans for the future? Never giving your addiction a second thought? Never acknowledging that I had a right to know who I was married to?” He acquiesced, saying that maybe once he licked this problem he thought he would tell me. I asked him, “And after 30 years you never once thought, ‘Gee I may not lick this, I better tell Lorena!'” Again, he never thought about it that way. I reminded him that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
Sin makes you stupid. It makes you as dumb as dirt. My husband is a brilliant man with a couple of college degrees yet he never acknowledged that a 30 year problem should be mentioned to me, to a therapist, to a parent, no one. Ever. And that’s what scares me about sin. If it makes you so stupid that you can never be touched by the Spirit again, never be touched by this talk, or this talk, or this one, or a hundred other talks or lessons he was in attendance at, then where is the hope in ever changing?
I wish I could live out a real life choose your own adventure book. For my marriage I would want the scenario to go like this. I make my man move out because he doesn’t deserve me. I love him, I would ache for him, he’s my best friend, but he really should be with someone he deserves. He doesn’t deserve me. He deserves a woman who is unchaste and a liar, one who struggles with integrity. For a month or a year, it doesn’t really matter, he should have to be married to this woman. After a period of time maybe he’ll truly understand what he had with me, go back to the beginning of the book, and choose a different adventure. The adventure of sharing his life with me. He would truly appreciate my talents, abilities and, yes, my integrity–my strong moral principles–my uprightness and honesty. I want him to understand how unbelievably lucky he is to have married “up”.
I know this scenario is impossible. I also know this is my pride speaking. I feel superior to him right now. This is never a good thing, I am not superior, I am a sinner as well. Today I started praying that God would take away my pride. This was so hard to say because in a way I don’t want to give away that pride, that moral superiority. I am justified in my feelings and my hurt. But if I’m going to make this marriage work I have to let go of my pride–about this problem and any other problem really. I need to become humble. Most of the time I want mercy for my husband, but sometimes I want prideful justice.