Once I was able to get past the initial fact that I not only needed a higher power, but I needed to surrender to it, I did the first thing I could think of: I went to church.
I was raised Catholic but stopped going to church when I went to college. This happened to coincide with a big wave of scandals and a huge payment of damages to the victims of sexual abuse by priests. But what rocked my faith the most was the fact that the priest of the mass I regularly attended was one of the people on the news for molesting small boys. This is the man I received communion from; the man I gave confessions to.
It started out first that my faith in the Church was shaken, and then my faith in Christianity as I began to learn more of the history of the Church and the bible. I'd always had difficulty relating to Jesus. Not that I didn't respect his teachings, but I'd just never been able to reach a point of believing in him as my "Lord and Savior."
So now, here I was more than a decade later trying to get back to a point of faith. I sat in mass and found myself fighting not to roll my eyes. I felt out of place and uncomfortable there. I tried staying late to sit in silence in the church and pray, but I still felt like an interloper. I didn't give up immediately. I kept going to mass, sometimes taking my young son with me. But the feeling that I was a fraud kept plaguing me.
So I went to my sponsor and asked for help. She told me that if I didn't like the Catholic God, then I should just make my own Higher Power.
In a meeting, I once heard a man share how he found his own Higher Power. His sponsor told him to take a piece of notebook paper and fold it in half length-wise (i.e. like a hot dog). One one side, he was to write all the things he hated about organized religion and the religious beliefs of others. On the other side he was to write down all the good things, and the things he'd want in his own higher power. Once this was completed, his sponsor told him to rip the sheet in half down that dividing line. Here were the applicants for the job of his Higher Power. Now he could throw out the ass-hole he didn't like and hire the one he did.
So I started my research. I looked into theologians like former Dominican priest Matthew Fox, Judaism, eastern religions, I even spent a good deal of time looking into paganism. In fact, one of the most helpful books I read was Paganism: An Introduction to Earth-Centered Religion by River and Joyce Higginbotham. That book described various faith systems, ways people look at religion, and even talks about scientific findings that could support the basis of an earth-based faith. But most importantly it taught me ways to meditate and pray that were deeply meaningful to me.
It was almost a four month process of research, meditation, and reflection that led me to the point where I now had a Higher Power with capital letters. I was able to look back on the way that program had changed my life, and how I had changed as a result of program. These were things I had never been able to achieve on my own. Finally I knew I had found the belief that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity. I had at last taken the second step.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Finding a Higher Power, Part 1
When I came into program I didn't have a higher power let alone a Higher Power with capital letters. It isn't to say I didn't believe in God. Being an atheist involves a certain measure of faith. While it is impossible to concretely prove the existence of a Higher Power, it is also impossible to concretely disprove the existence of some Higher Power. So the act of being an atheist is as much an act of faith as the belief that Christ is the Son of God or that Buddha obtained enlightenment. And faith was something I was fresh out of. So I was indifferent to the notion that there was a deity out there, but one thing I was most certain of was that any deity that might exist most certainly wasn't interested in me.
So I needed some sort of starting point. I have met people who have chosen non-deity Higher Powers, such as mathematics (no matter how much you dislike the outcome, 2+2 does not equal 5), the laws of physics (gravity is a cruel taskmaster. . .), mother nature (not much you can do if good ol' mother nature decides to drop a tornado on your head at lunch time), the door knob (this seems to be the classic example I hear in meetings, so for a few months I told the door knob on a regular basis what a shit job it was doing running the universe), the ceiling ("I am powerless over whether that ceiling decides to collapse and crush me"), their sponsor (if you have made them your "boss" then you have placed them as a "Higher Power" over you - although this one is a sticky one long term), the people in the OA rooms (this was the route I went with once I stopped thinking that the requirement for a higher power was stupid), a celebrity (I've heard people go with Chuck Norris' beard, Burt Reynolds, Burt Reynolds' moustache, and other such silliness - but guess what: it worked for them), time (you can't stop it and you can't control it), and the universe (we can all agree that the universe exists).
I have heard two things in meetings that have stuck with me. One person who struggled with active atheism was told by his sponsor, "Can you believe that I believe in a Higher Power?" That was a starting point.
The other thing I heard was: "All I need to know about God is that I'm not Him."
In my experience with program there are two stages of the Higher Power proposition. The first is accepting that you are not calling the shots for the universe. There is some force outside of your control deciding that Joe down the street is going to have a heart attack next week, or that there is going to be an earthquake next month, or that you're going to suddenly have the worst food poisoning of your life the day you have a big interview.
The second part of the proposition is learning to trust that somehow things are going to work out for the best. All you need to do is do the footwork (i.e. if you want a promotion then work hard and show up on time, if you want a college degree then enroll and go to your classes, if you don't want food poisoning then don't eat the leftovers growing mold in your fridge, etc.) and let The Great Whatever do the rest.
This second proposition is much harder to reach. It involves not only the understanding that you aren't in control of the world, but surrendering to whatever is. And us addicts hate surrendering anything. It is the difference between deciding to sky dive and actually jumping out of the plane. In my experience you can't force this part - it just comes with time.
But for today, you don't need to be at that second part of the proposition. All you need to do today is reach the point where you know that "I'm not Him/Her." And that isn't a hard point to reach. On an intellectual level, most of us know that we didn't create the universe. (Those that don't know this have much bigger troubles than compulsive overeating.)
But the most important thing about finding a Higher Power is understanding that it really doesn't matter if that Higher Power actually exists. What matters is that you act as if you believe one does. My sponsor once shared in a meeting that she didn't know if there really was a Higher Power out there. But even if there was nothing - well, nothing was sure doing a better job running her life than she did.
So I needed some sort of starting point. I have met people who have chosen non-deity Higher Powers, such as mathematics (no matter how much you dislike the outcome, 2+2 does not equal 5), the laws of physics (gravity is a cruel taskmaster. . .), mother nature (not much you can do if good ol' mother nature decides to drop a tornado on your head at lunch time), the door knob (this seems to be the classic example I hear in meetings, so for a few months I told the door knob on a regular basis what a shit job it was doing running the universe), the ceiling ("I am powerless over whether that ceiling decides to collapse and crush me"), their sponsor (if you have made them your "boss" then you have placed them as a "Higher Power" over you - although this one is a sticky one long term), the people in the OA rooms (this was the route I went with once I stopped thinking that the requirement for a higher power was stupid), a celebrity (I've heard people go with Chuck Norris' beard, Burt Reynolds, Burt Reynolds' moustache, and other such silliness - but guess what: it worked for them), time (you can't stop it and you can't control it), and the universe (we can all agree that the universe exists).
I have heard two things in meetings that have stuck with me. One person who struggled with active atheism was told by his sponsor, "Can you believe that I believe in a Higher Power?" That was a starting point.
The other thing I heard was: "All I need to know about God is that I'm not Him."
In my experience with program there are two stages of the Higher Power proposition. The first is accepting that you are not calling the shots for the universe. There is some force outside of your control deciding that Joe down the street is going to have a heart attack next week, or that there is going to be an earthquake next month, or that you're going to suddenly have the worst food poisoning of your life the day you have a big interview.
The second part of the proposition is learning to trust that somehow things are going to work out for the best. All you need to do is do the footwork (i.e. if you want a promotion then work hard and show up on time, if you want a college degree then enroll and go to your classes, if you don't want food poisoning then don't eat the leftovers growing mold in your fridge, etc.) and let The Great Whatever do the rest.
This second proposition is much harder to reach. It involves not only the understanding that you aren't in control of the world, but surrendering to whatever is. And us addicts hate surrendering anything. It is the difference between deciding to sky dive and actually jumping out of the plane. In my experience you can't force this part - it just comes with time.
But for today, you don't need to be at that second part of the proposition. All you need to do today is reach the point where you know that "I'm not Him/Her." And that isn't a hard point to reach. On an intellectual level, most of us know that we didn't create the universe. (Those that don't know this have much bigger troubles than compulsive overeating.)
But the most important thing about finding a Higher Power is understanding that it really doesn't matter if that Higher Power actually exists. What matters is that you act as if you believe one does. My sponsor once shared in a meeting that she didn't know if there really was a Higher Power out there. But even if there was nothing - well, nothing was sure doing a better job running her life than she did.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Meditation: Growth
This last week has been a difficult one. My boyfriend broke up with me. My ex-husband took my son to see his family in Texas for Easter. But most importantly, after looking at the relationship patterns I've gravitated towards, I realized that I use love as a drug - and I'm referring to that Hallmark, Valentine's Day kind of love, not the truly deep and intimate kind of love. When things get bad, I move from one relationship into another - keeping a casual distance, putting the new person on a pedestal, and waiting for things to collapse before starting the process immediately over again.
This is just one more outlet for my disease to keep me from coping with life, and so I have a cross addiction that I am now dealing with. Which means I spent this week managing an empty house and a breakup without food, without alcohol, and without the lure of seeking out a new romantic partner.
Being without my son is always tough, but on Easter it was particularly difficult. So last night I decided that it was time to do a guided meditation. When working on my Second Step, I learned a number of guided meditations designed to help me grow closer to my Higher Power.
My favorite of these meditations is one that involves going into your "inner temple." The process is simple. Lie down and get comfortable. Picture that there is a light (pick a relaxing color, mine is a teal color but yours can be anything you like) that is moving from your feet and filling your body as it goes up to your head. Once you are in a safe little cocoon of relaxation, let yourself drift up and out of your body. You are going up and up to the clouds. Ahead you see a big fluffy white cloud and your cocoon stops there and you step out onto that cloud. Ahead of you is your temple.
The meditation goes on to tell you to approach the temple and go inside. You let your mind wander and just watch what you do in there - it's like semi-active dreaming.
It's up to you to picture what your temple looks like. My temple used to always be a Greek ruin with a few tendrils of ivy going up the side. The inside had broken floors - it looked like a place that had not seen a human being in centuries (if not longer). There was a lone stone altar in the center, but nothing else. I have always loved my meditation trips to my temple because I thought it was beautiful and special. (A bit of foreshadowing . . .)
I couldn't seem to get into my teal cocoon this time. Instead I felt like I was being sucked into a black hole. I was trapped inside this little popcorn kernel shaped shell, curled into fetal position - and it was like this that I went up to my clouds. I thought about stopping the meditation and starting over, but figured I'd go with it.
This time when I went into my temple, it was like a lush botanical garden. The structure was the same - the same pillars and vines, but this time the whole place was surrounded by lush plants and hanging vines of flowers. The floors were old and worn, still ancient, but they had that well-kept look that you see in old cathedrals in Europe. My stone altar was still in the center, but it had a pristine white table cloth on it, with candles and flowers. On one side of the altar there now was a throne where I knew my Higher Power sat. Instead of a place of decay, everything was pristine - as though it was millennia old, but had been loved every single day of its long, long life.
Looking around my temple, I realized that the changes I was seeing were a reflection of my growth in program. I am no longer a barren, broken down human being. My temple before was very pretty, but this place was beautiful beyond compare. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I was given this chance to see the changes in myself. After how rough this week has been, I'd been feeling like I had made no progress whatsoever - and yet here was the proof to the contrary.
I looked around and didn't see my Higher Power anywhere, but somehow I knew he wasn't far. I looked down and in my hand there was the little kernel with me inside, and I realized it was a seed. Down at the base of the throne there was a missing stone with a plot of really rich smelling soil. I'm not much of a gardener (as my poor half-dead vegetable garden can attest) but if I were a plant, that is the kind of soil I'd want to live in! So that's exactly what I did. I knelt down and planted the seed that was me, and stepped back. I knew that I had planted my seed in a safe place and that my Higher Power was there to watch me grow. I didn't have to worry about water or sunshine - my Higher Power had that part.
I knelt down next to the plot of dirt and told my seed-self, "I know it hurts now, and I know growing is a struggle. But keep fighting, because it will all be worth it once you break the surface and see the sunshine." I was picturing my seed-self pushing against the walls of the seed, breaking out and struggling against the dirt to push up and to the sunshine. I realized that the feelings I'm having now are just that - I'm pushing through the dirt trying to reach the sunshine.
I came to after that and felt this sense of peace. I know days are going to be difficult, but just for today I can have faith that the sunshine is going to be worth it.
I don't know if these meditations are just my subconscious giving me the information I need or a way for my Higher Power to reach me, but either way: message gratefully received.
This is just one more outlet for my disease to keep me from coping with life, and so I have a cross addiction that I am now dealing with. Which means I spent this week managing an empty house and a breakup without food, without alcohol, and without the lure of seeking out a new romantic partner.
Being without my son is always tough, but on Easter it was particularly difficult. So last night I decided that it was time to do a guided meditation. When working on my Second Step, I learned a number of guided meditations designed to help me grow closer to my Higher Power.
My favorite of these meditations is one that involves going into your "inner temple." The process is simple. Lie down and get comfortable. Picture that there is a light (pick a relaxing color, mine is a teal color but yours can be anything you like) that is moving from your feet and filling your body as it goes up to your head. Once you are in a safe little cocoon of relaxation, let yourself drift up and out of your body. You are going up and up to the clouds. Ahead you see a big fluffy white cloud and your cocoon stops there and you step out onto that cloud. Ahead of you is your temple.
The meditation goes on to tell you to approach the temple and go inside. You let your mind wander and just watch what you do in there - it's like semi-active dreaming.
It's up to you to picture what your temple looks like. My temple used to always be a Greek ruin with a few tendrils of ivy going up the side. The inside had broken floors - it looked like a place that had not seen a human being in centuries (if not longer). There was a lone stone altar in the center, but nothing else. I have always loved my meditation trips to my temple because I thought it was beautiful and special. (A bit of foreshadowing . . .)
I couldn't seem to get into my teal cocoon this time. Instead I felt like I was being sucked into a black hole. I was trapped inside this little popcorn kernel shaped shell, curled into fetal position - and it was like this that I went up to my clouds. I thought about stopping the meditation and starting over, but figured I'd go with it.
This time when I went into my temple, it was like a lush botanical garden. The structure was the same - the same pillars and vines, but this time the whole place was surrounded by lush plants and hanging vines of flowers. The floors were old and worn, still ancient, but they had that well-kept look that you see in old cathedrals in Europe. My stone altar was still in the center, but it had a pristine white table cloth on it, with candles and flowers. On one side of the altar there now was a throne where I knew my Higher Power sat. Instead of a place of decay, everything was pristine - as though it was millennia old, but had been loved every single day of its long, long life.
Looking around my temple, I realized that the changes I was seeing were a reflection of my growth in program. I am no longer a barren, broken down human being. My temple before was very pretty, but this place was beautiful beyond compare. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I was given this chance to see the changes in myself. After how rough this week has been, I'd been feeling like I had made no progress whatsoever - and yet here was the proof to the contrary.
I looked around and didn't see my Higher Power anywhere, but somehow I knew he wasn't far. I looked down and in my hand there was the little kernel with me inside, and I realized it was a seed. Down at the base of the throne there was a missing stone with a plot of really rich smelling soil. I'm not much of a gardener (as my poor half-dead vegetable garden can attest) but if I were a plant, that is the kind of soil I'd want to live in! So that's exactly what I did. I knelt down and planted the seed that was me, and stepped back. I knew that I had planted my seed in a safe place and that my Higher Power was there to watch me grow. I didn't have to worry about water or sunshine - my Higher Power had that part.
I knelt down next to the plot of dirt and told my seed-self, "I know it hurts now, and I know growing is a struggle. But keep fighting, because it will all be worth it once you break the surface and see the sunshine." I was picturing my seed-self pushing against the walls of the seed, breaking out and struggling against the dirt to push up and to the sunshine. I realized that the feelings I'm having now are just that - I'm pushing through the dirt trying to reach the sunshine.
I came to after that and felt this sense of peace. I know days are going to be difficult, but just for today I can have faith that the sunshine is going to be worth it.
I don't know if these meditations are just my subconscious giving me the information I need or a way for my Higher Power to reach me, but either way: message gratefully received.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Donor Organ
We are like recipients of a donor organ. Ours was defective so we needed a new one. The only catch is that we need to constantly be taking medicine to keep our bodies from rejecting our new organ. In fact, we have nine medicines we need to take: 1) a plan of eating, 2) sponsorship, 3) meetings, 4) telephone, 5) writing, 6) literature, 7) action plan, 8) anonymity, 9) service.
Do You Know Who You Are?
I watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy that posed three questions. The patient was a man who had been paralyzed from neck down in an accident. The doctor was asking if he wished to be taken off of life support as he would never be able to live without machines to breathe for him. To confirm that he wished to be taken off of the machines he was asked three questions:
Do you know who you are?
Do you know what's happened to you?
Do you want to live this way?
It shocked me just how appropriate these questions were for a compulsive overeater. Really, for any addict. Before program the answer to all those questions was a resounding no.
I didn't know who I was. Indeed, I spent nearly every waking moment trying to avoid figuring that out. I ate, I drank, I played excessive video games, I read, I did anything and everything to not think about who I was.
I didn't know what had happened to me. I woke up one day and I was 305 pounds. Sure I saw myself getting larger and larger, but somehow it still snuck up on me. I kept expecting that tomorrow would be different - tomorrow I'd find the will to change. Tomorrow I'd eat healthy and exercise. I'd suddenly know how to act and be like other people. But tomorrow never came. So I got a gastric bypass. I lost the weight but it came right back on. And again tomorrow never came.
The only thing I knew before program was that I didn't want to live this way. I couldn't live this way. I was hopeless. I was desperate. I was completely unwilling to surrender my life and will to the care of a power greater than myself. It took the complete and total annihilation of my willingness to live before I was able to put down the reigns and hand over control.
That day I waved the white flag and got a sponsor. That's when the miracle happened. How different today is. I went from 305 pounds down to the 169 pounds I weighed today (and I'm still losing). I went from a size 24 to a size 10. A size XXXL to a size M. I went from constantly depressed and angry to a genuinely happy, optimistic person. My life has never been better.
I now can confidently answer all three of those questions with a yes. I discovered that the answer was surrender. Sweet, simple surrender.
Do you know who you are?
Do you know what's happened to you?
Do you want to live this way?
It shocked me just how appropriate these questions were for a compulsive overeater. Really, for any addict. Before program the answer to all those questions was a resounding no.
I didn't know who I was. Indeed, I spent nearly every waking moment trying to avoid figuring that out. I ate, I drank, I played excessive video games, I read, I did anything and everything to not think about who I was.
I didn't know what had happened to me. I woke up one day and I was 305 pounds. Sure I saw myself getting larger and larger, but somehow it still snuck up on me. I kept expecting that tomorrow would be different - tomorrow I'd find the will to change. Tomorrow I'd eat healthy and exercise. I'd suddenly know how to act and be like other people. But tomorrow never came. So I got a gastric bypass. I lost the weight but it came right back on. And again tomorrow never came.
The only thing I knew before program was that I didn't want to live this way. I couldn't live this way. I was hopeless. I was desperate. I was completely unwilling to surrender my life and will to the care of a power greater than myself. It took the complete and total annihilation of my willingness to live before I was able to put down the reigns and hand over control.
That day I waved the white flag and got a sponsor. That's when the miracle happened. How different today is. I went from 305 pounds down to the 169 pounds I weighed today (and I'm still losing). I went from a size 24 to a size 10. A size XXXL to a size M. I went from constantly depressed and angry to a genuinely happy, optimistic person. My life has never been better.
I now can confidently answer all three of those questions with a yes. I discovered that the answer was surrender. Sweet, simple surrender.
Friday, April 4, 2014
A Metaphor
Today I wanted to make a long outreach call, but having a very high energy toddler on my hands I knew that was unlikely to happen. So in a moment of mad inspiration, I did what any mother would do. I taught him how to drive.
In reality, he was sitting on my lap while I allowed the car to roll forward at a staggering 4 miles per hour. He steered and I gently reached in to correct the wheel when he looked likely to hit a curb as we rolled our way around our cul-de-sac. A few neighbors paused to call some greetings to us, and the bright smile on my son's face was infectious.
Every once in a while he didn't want to let me correct his steering and swatted my hands away. When that happened, I applied the breaks and told him he wasn't going anywhere until he let me help. He pouted but eventually realized that he needed my cooperation if he wanted to keep driving.
I realized with surprise just how much this is like my own interactions with my Higher Power. When I allow Him to gently guide me, He lets me steer and keeps things moving forward. But when I refuse help, He puts on the brakes and lets me sit in frustrated misery until I'm willing to surrender.
In reality, he was sitting on my lap while I allowed the car to roll forward at a staggering 4 miles per hour. He steered and I gently reached in to correct the wheel when he looked likely to hit a curb as we rolled our way around our cul-de-sac. A few neighbors paused to call some greetings to us, and the bright smile on my son's face was infectious.
Every once in a while he didn't want to let me correct his steering and swatted my hands away. When that happened, I applied the breaks and told him he wasn't going anywhere until he let me help. He pouted but eventually realized that he needed my cooperation if he wanted to keep driving.
I realized with surprise just how much this is like my own interactions with my Higher Power. When I allow Him to gently guide me, He lets me steer and keeps things moving forward. But when I refuse help, He puts on the brakes and lets me sit in frustrated misery until I'm willing to surrender.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Full of Feelings - And Right-Sizing Them
I've had a bit of an emotional week. After much prayer and meditation, I realized that I needed to have a frank discussion with my boyfriend about what being with an addict entails. I talked to him about the possibility of relapse, and what that could look like.
Being a compulsive overeater, my relapse looks very different from that of the alcoholic or the drug addict. I am killing myself every bit as much as those addicts when I am in my disease. The difference is that I'm doing so in a quiet way that one simply doesn't talk about. Sure the concerned family member might note I had gained weight, or someone might ask if I was still going to meetings. But ultimately it isn't the kind of addiction that you can get court-ordered to do something about.
I asked my boyfriend if he was willing to stay knowing that relapse would always be a risk. He knows I work a strong program. He knows I am putting program first. He knows that I intend to do everything in my power to stay in the rooms, because that's where life is. But after having a slip, I knew that the only way I could continue with him was knowing that he wouldn't suddenly be blind-sided if I relapsed after we were married with children.
He took my question very seriously, and has been thinking about it all week. It isn't so much the prospect of me being obese that concerns him (while he wouldn't enjoy that aspect of relapse). What concerns him is that he will be watching me kill myself and be unable to do anything to stop it. In fact, if he tries to interfere, he may be hindering my recovery. That is the aspect that has him concerned. In his mind, that is a lot of responsibility and potential conflict. So he has not ended things, but he is taking time to truly think things over.
I appreciate that he is taking this seriously, because it is something that I take seriously. But being left in suspense is an uncomfortable and frightening place. I took the action that I felt was in the best interest of my program. Food had gotten loud and I realized it was my anxiety over how my relationship might interfere with my program. So I did what was necessary to resolve that anxiety. In the process I created a different anxiety.
Today I was feeling that perhaps it would be better to simply end the relationship. It would give me certainty and end that fear and that powerlessness that I'm so uncomfortable with. I would choose loneliness and isolation instead - those are feelings that I'm far more at home with.
Then I learned that my friend lost his battle with cancer, leaving his wife and their four children behind. Boy didn't that put my life into perspective. I'm in a huff because my boyfriend is taking time to consider whether he wants to take our relationship to a more serious level. Yet my friend's wife is mourning the loss of the love of her life. I will see my boyfriend on Friday. She will never see her husband again.
It was a very humbling and I felt ashamed to realize how ungrateful I was for the blessings in my life. I have a relationship that for today is very wonderful and beautiful, and I was willing to throw it away because of fear. I might lose him later so I'll throw him away today. . . when there are countless widows who would do anything to get just one more day with their loved ones. It is entirely possible that my boyfriend will tell me he wants to part ways when I see him this Friday. If that happens, I will wish him the best and thank my Higher Power for the time I had with him. But to throw away the possibility of a future with him simply because I was uncomfortable with the uncertainty is ridiculous.
So for a while I stopped thinking about my problems. I started thinking about those things I was grateful for. I spent time getting my emotions shrunk down to the right sizes for the situation.
Then I spent time mourning my friend, because he deserved to be mourned. I sat down alone on my sofa and I held a small conversation with him. I thanked him for the things he brought to my life, apologized for anything I could think of that might warrant an amends (and then a few things that probably didn't). I sat with a Kleenex box and said my good bye. Then I moved on to work on my program. I feel very keenly the void my friend will leave in my life, but I know that I must accept the things I cannot change. Sadly, death is one of those.
Being a compulsive overeater, my relapse looks very different from that of the alcoholic or the drug addict. I am killing myself every bit as much as those addicts when I am in my disease. The difference is that I'm doing so in a quiet way that one simply doesn't talk about. Sure the concerned family member might note I had gained weight, or someone might ask if I was still going to meetings. But ultimately it isn't the kind of addiction that you can get court-ordered to do something about.
I asked my boyfriend if he was willing to stay knowing that relapse would always be a risk. He knows I work a strong program. He knows I am putting program first. He knows that I intend to do everything in my power to stay in the rooms, because that's where life is. But after having a slip, I knew that the only way I could continue with him was knowing that he wouldn't suddenly be blind-sided if I relapsed after we were married with children.
He took my question very seriously, and has been thinking about it all week. It isn't so much the prospect of me being obese that concerns him (while he wouldn't enjoy that aspect of relapse). What concerns him is that he will be watching me kill myself and be unable to do anything to stop it. In fact, if he tries to interfere, he may be hindering my recovery. That is the aspect that has him concerned. In his mind, that is a lot of responsibility and potential conflict. So he has not ended things, but he is taking time to truly think things over.
I appreciate that he is taking this seriously, because it is something that I take seriously. But being left in suspense is an uncomfortable and frightening place. I took the action that I felt was in the best interest of my program. Food had gotten loud and I realized it was my anxiety over how my relationship might interfere with my program. So I did what was necessary to resolve that anxiety. In the process I created a different anxiety.
Today I was feeling that perhaps it would be better to simply end the relationship. It would give me certainty and end that fear and that powerlessness that I'm so uncomfortable with. I would choose loneliness and isolation instead - those are feelings that I'm far more at home with.
Then I learned that my friend lost his battle with cancer, leaving his wife and their four children behind. Boy didn't that put my life into perspective. I'm in a huff because my boyfriend is taking time to consider whether he wants to take our relationship to a more serious level. Yet my friend's wife is mourning the loss of the love of her life. I will see my boyfriend on Friday. She will never see her husband again.
It was a very humbling and I felt ashamed to realize how ungrateful I was for the blessings in my life. I have a relationship that for today is very wonderful and beautiful, and I was willing to throw it away because of fear. I might lose him later so I'll throw him away today. . . when there are countless widows who would do anything to get just one more day with their loved ones. It is entirely possible that my boyfriend will tell me he wants to part ways when I see him this Friday. If that happens, I will wish him the best and thank my Higher Power for the time I had with him. But to throw away the possibility of a future with him simply because I was uncomfortable with the uncertainty is ridiculous.
So for a while I stopped thinking about my problems. I started thinking about those things I was grateful for. I spent time getting my emotions shrunk down to the right sizes for the situation.
Then I spent time mourning my friend, because he deserved to be mourned. I sat down alone on my sofa and I held a small conversation with him. I thanked him for the things he brought to my life, apologized for anything I could think of that might warrant an amends (and then a few things that probably didn't). I sat with a Kleenex box and said my good bye. Then I moved on to work on my program. I feel very keenly the void my friend will leave in my life, but I know that I must accept the things I cannot change. Sadly, death is one of those.
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