You have a choice

 I don’t remember ever not hearing the voices in my head. When I was 10, 11, 12, I would sit up in the middle of the night, in the middle of my mattress with my knees pulled up tightly against my chest, rocking with sobs as I saw the hands coming up over my mattress trying to pull me down, down to the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth. When I was a teenager those voices changed, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t worthy, I was unlovable. I was the reason my parents were screaming and fighting all the time. I would never have a boyfriend because I was too fat and angry. I wasn’t smart enough so there was no point in trying to get into college. A couple years after my husband Damon was killed, I found myself driving cross country in an RV with my three small children in the back. One day in the middle of nowhere I was driving across a high steeply curved bridge and I heard a voice in my head tell me to just turn the wheel and go over the edge of that bridge, that it wouldn’t matter anymore, that it wouldn’t hurt anymore. I argued with that voice in my head, “what about my children,” “Doesn’t matter, they’ll be dead too.” “But what if my children survive, what if they just get hurt, what if they become orphans.” That word “orphans” kept my hands on that steering wheel, driving straight across that bridge. A few months later I recognized that something was wrong with me. I felt like I was going crazy. I was sure I had schizophrenia or some other mental health issue and I needed to get help. I went through grief counseling, I even started a prescription of an anti-depressant, something to help me. But I couldn’t stand the way it made me feel, nothing, like a zombie. So, I went back to my trusted coping mechanism of getting lost in a book. I don’t know how I came across the book series, The Great and Terrible. The only thing I knew about the author Chris Stewart was that he was LDS, a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, like me. The book is about the war in heaven, our relationships with our brothers and sisters, with Jehovah and Lucifer. The book continues to our relationships here on earth, those continued relationships and those fallen angels who chose to follow Lucifer and how they are now on earth, here with us, whispering in our ears lies, deceit, manipulations, to get us to choose to do something to make us fall, down like them. Something resonated deep in my soul. I knew it was true and it took me back behind that steering wheel in that RV, driving across the bridge, and I recognized that voice in my head, that insistent, whiny, manipulative voice was not my voice. I did not want to kill myself. I did not want to kill my children. And I was not crazy. I recognized that I had a choice, a choice to listen or a choice to not listen to those voices. I recognized that that choice, that agency, was taking the power back from Satan. My children have grown up. I’ve been able to teach them how to recognize those voices, how to recognize those lies. Those voices haven’t stopped. My 16-year-old daughter struggles with hearing those voices. And I’ve recognized that I am her mother for a reason. I’m here to teach her, and to help you know that you have a choice. And that you can choose to live.

Why do I need to write a memoir?

My thought process on my book has evolved over the years. It went from being about Damon, then my loss of Damon, then our love story. I felt called to write about him so I wouldn't forget, so my children would know him, so others would know him and somehow also feel his loss. I didn't want him to be a stagnant photograph, stuck in time. I wanted to feel his presence and picture him there next to me as I wrote it and read it again over the years. I got stuck writing that story because it hurt so much. I would sit down to write and become overwhelmed by my sorrow, guilt, and grief. The book sat unfinished, untouched, unread.

I realized that my story continued. I was still living, making memories, learning important lessons.

My story included Damon, my loss of Damon, our love story, but also learning how to be on my own, learning to love again, and new beginnings. I couldn't write about Damon without writing about how he lead me to Chris. I couldn't write about Chris without including Damon, learning to love another while still holding onto his memory. I don't feel as though Chris and I had a beginning, we just kind of jumped in where we left off. We were always in each other's existence, always meant to be together. It just took a lot of pain to get us back to each other. Kind of like Damon. Something was there pulling us towards each other, keeping us in the back of each other's minds as we continued living, until we couldn't resist the pull any longer. I knew we were supposed to be together, just like he knew it, even though it took us so long to finally get our act together, get over our fears, and be together. 

As Chris and I continued our lives together, I realized there was more to my story involving Chris's past and our present, Chris's ex-wife, our blended family, and homeschooling. I recognized that having a blended family was much harder than losing Damon. The lack of control when it comes to someone interfering with my family, lying and manipulating, and hurting my husband. It was horrible. I was consumed by hatred for her. The hatred ate me from the inside and almost destroyed my family. At the same time I started to resent my new marriage and blamed Damon. I blamed him for leaving me, again. The grief cycle reared it's ugly head forcing me to make some changes, throwing my family off kilter, not that we had found a kilter yet. Along the way. we began homeschooling which took us down a rabbit hole of learning. It was amazing! I can't tell my story without including the journey of homeschooling. 

My story became our story. Damon, Chris, and me.

While my story has evolved my fears have had the opportunity to grow. I've fought telling my story for fear of being judged, fear of being recognized or remembered from when I wasn't at my best, fear of being called out for remembering differently than someone else, fear of hurting someone's feelings, fear of being required to do more, be more, and experience more hurt and loss. 

My purpose has evolved from needing to tell my story so Damon is remembered, to needing to remind people that we are not alone, we are loved by our Savior, and we can always count on Him to get us through our trials. My purpose is to share what I have experienced, because others go through it too, and maybe they need the reminder I could have used along the way. 

Blog vs Book

Yesterday in Relief Society we had a lesson about the symbolism of the picture of the iron rod and the great and spacious building. I've heard this lesson many, many times. But yesterday something else clicked. Something stuck that didn't quite make it all the other times. My notes go something like this:

Mists of darkness = temptations of the devil
Filthy river = being offended/falling away from the Spirit
Large and spacious building = vain imaginations and pride of the world/idols
Iron rod = word of God

Good-Better-BEST
The natural man is an enemy to God.
The more in tune with the Spirit, the more focused we are and the natural man does not influence.

The teacher had half the room put up sticky notes with examples of "temptations of modern day LDS women" while the other half of the room put up their sticky note with an example of "modern day idols".

I put up my sticky note of an example of temptations for modern day LDS which said "I'm too busy!", Busybodies, GOSSIPING.

The Idols is what got to me though.
Some of the examples were: TV, Netflix, TV, TV, TV,.... but then....procrastination.

Ouch. Yep. I think that's mine.
Some bells went off and then I went home and took a nap. Ugh.

So here I am today giving this whole book thing another thought.
I actually sat down to write it last week and I literally fell into a deep depression. It was horrible. I can't imagine sitting down to write out my story without all of those emotions coming back up. Which makes me think I haven't actually healed. I've only put a band-aid or even worse I've just shoved it down and ignored it all. Ouch.

Here I am, supposed to be writing a book about how I've overcome so many trials and I'm a better person for them and I'm actually happy!!! But it's more than that.

I keep being reminded that my story, my mess, isn't actually the story I'm supposed to be telling. My story is one of salvation, forgiveness, and LOVE. My story is one of finding that ultimate source of LOVE and learning to live again through Him.

I've been contemplating writing this book but then the idea comes to me that it's more than just a book. It can be more than a book anyways. It can be a movement of looking beyond the grief, the pain and sorrow, the sins and temptations, to who got us through and keeps helping us through every day. He is the source of that relief. He is the One who never left our sides. He is the One who carried me when I couldn't carry myself or my children.

The One I speak of is my Savior Jesus Christ. My story is about Him.

I know I'm not alone in that I'm not the only one who has a story to tell about Him.
I know that my story is not unique.
So I'd like to hear your story too.

The benefit of doing a blog verses a book is that a blog can be interactive! A blog can change and develop and include so much more than just a written word. And maybe one day I'll turn this blog into a book.

So no more procrastinating. No more excuses.

We all see how the world is out there. We all notice the lack of GOOD, POSITIVE stories. So let's change that. Let's show each other and the world that despite the hard times, despite the grief and loss, despite the anger and frustration there is One who can lift us up and deliver us from all of that junk!