Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Grace is Messy

Home
Meet Steve Austin
About Messy Grace
Books
Speaker
Contact
Categories
- Faith
- Family
  - Marriage
  - Parenting
- Mental Health
- Recovery
- Writing Help
Best of Messy Grace
Support
Supporters
Affirming Churches
ASK STEVE!
Press
The Podcast

Home
Progressive Christian
How My Marriage Destroyed My Shame

How My Marriage Destroyed My Shame

Last updated on: September 1, 2016 at 8:19 am by Steve Austin

How My Marriage Destroyed My Shame 2016-09-01T08:19:03-05:00 Steve Austin

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Marriage recovery after a spouse’s suicide attempt is not easy, but it is possible.

How My Marriage Destroyed My Rate

Flashes of light, incoherent chatter. Nothing made sense. I had done everything I could to make sure I never woke up again. So why was I here? Yet, even in such a dark moment, I felt the force of shame in my gut as the cool air hit my bare skin. Why are they touching me?! I wanted to die. I felt ready to die. I was overwhelmed with life and the way things seemed to be crumbling around me.

The strange thing is, I was not ashamed of trying to kill myself. It went much deeper than that. I was ashamed of being seen. The nurse cut off my clothes in the ER, while others transferred my body from the gurney to a bed, and I was flooded with more shame than I can ever remember in a single moment. It’s literally just a flash of memory. The next second, I was out again. I stayed unconscious for several more hours as my liver decided if it would keep me alive or not. But in that space between semi-consciousness and near-death, knowing that strangers could see my body tapped into the shame of childhood abuse, and caused a great deal of panic. Even though I was barely alive.

The woman caught in adultery must have felt the same shaky tenderness the day after she wasn’t stoned to death. The day after the Healer, the Rebel, the Wild Man, the Rabbi stepped into the path of her near-death moment, and told her she would not be condemned.

A stoning would be a terrible way to die. The condemned person, buried up to their waist, watched and waited as a crowd approached. The temperature below ground was below 60 degrees. Participants brought stones the size of plums.

A single hit probably wouldn’t kill someone, or even knock them out, but a hundred stones nearly the size of a fist over a period several hours would do the trick. Organs would rupture and bruise and eventually begin shutting down, but the sinner remained conscious. Hurting. Aware of every blow, yet unable to run. Fully aware that life was over, unable to save themselves. It would have taken four or five hours to die.

If you ask me, a stoning sounds a lot like how shame feels.

For years, my life was marked by shame and fear. It’s true for most victims of childhood sexual assault. I feared turning into my abuser, or realizing I was gay. And in the day-to-day, I feared the person closest to me: my wife. I was terrified Lindsey would discover just how screwed up I actually am, and decide I was not enough. Not man enough. Not strong enough. Not healed enough. Not committed enough. Not holy enough. Not sane enough. Not enough. I was scared that I would be unfaithful to her. I was scared of all of it. As irrational as it is, I would have rather died than face my shame.

Little did I know, my wife would be the tangible grace of God to me.

After my life fell apart and I tried to die, my wife stayed with me. Stuck with me like glue. When I had given up on myself, her faith in me became stubborn. Her trust in God is strong as steel. Others didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, or didn’t care. But Lindsey climbed down into the muck with me and refused to let me go. It wasn’t easy. Wading through that mess never is. Shame has a way of choking the living right out of life.

After I was released from ICU and the psych ward, Lindsey and I went through months of intense marriage counseling and individual therapy. This is where healing began. The day our marriage counselor connected the dots between my abuse, nearly twenty years of addiction to pornography, and my suicide attempt changed my life forever. She helped us both see that shame was at the core of all of this. It felt like I had just left the optometrist for the first time with a new pair of glasses. Suddenly, I could see individual leaves on trees, instead of blurry shapes and shades of green. All at once my life began to make sense.

My life today is more open and more hopeful than it was. I hid the abuse for so long and my unintentional habit is still to hide. My gut response is to escape. To not show up. But the grace of God calls forth courage, and I practice forming the new habit of opening myself to safe people, creating practical boundaries, and intentionally loosening the grip of shame, a little at a time. For me, for my wife, and for our children.

Much like Jesus with the woman caught in adultery, Lindsey stepped into the circle with me. She recognized my shame and fear. She knew my painful secrets. In the face of shame, my wife became the voice of grace. She dared anyone holding stones to first look in the mirror before they threw the first at me. When others pushed me out, she pulled me closer. Grace has a way of doing just that: when judgment divides, grace draws near.

Choosing the path of unconditional love wasn’t easy for my wife, but she did it anyway. When others refused to listen, she whispered, “Come home.” That is the picture of grace.

Perfect love casts out all fear. And grace destroys shame.

*Get your copy of my brand-new book, “From Pastor to a Psych Ward: Recovery from a Suicide Attempt is Possible” today!

Join the Grace is Messy Tribe

You’re in! Now please go check your email to confirm your subscription.

There was an error submitting your subscription. Please try again.

Email Address

Recovery from a Suicide Attempt

Previous Post

July 25, 2016

Don't Kick the Catfish: Thoughts on the 23rd Psalm

Next Post

July 26, 2016 24 Ways I Know I'm Not Jesus

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Anxiety Best of Messy Grace Current Events Depression Faith Family Featured Fiction lgbtq Marriage Mental Health Messy Grace Millennials Parenting Recovery Recovery from a Suicide Attempt Recovery from Abuse Recovery from Porn Addiction Religious Recovery Self Care The Struggle With Church This is My Story (series) Uncategorized Writing Help

Select a Month January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 June 2015 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 June 2013 April 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 September 2011 August 2011 May 2011 July 2010

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

True or False: The Corinthians were told that love is patient and kind.

Select your answer to see how you score.

FALSE TRUE