A Story of Recovery:

Fear’s Fancies

When I came into FA, I was on Social Security disability because I am bipolar. I had a doctor who signed a letter saying that I would never work again because I was so mentally ill. I was bingeing and purging, and trying to not go back to using meth because I knew I would lose my disability and my housing. I had seen too many addicts throw everything away in the chase for the drug.

I intuitively knew that every binge led to drinking, which led to meth, which led to jail, etc. But there was still no way on earth that I could quit bingeing and throwing up. I was desperate when I came into FA, and I fell in love with the program, even though I kicked, balked, and screamed at virtually every sponsor suggestion. By working with a strong, committed sponsor and taking all of her suggestions to the best of my ability, I eventually got abstinent.

Slowly, my life changed. With my sponsor’s guidance, I relearned how to drive, bought a car, and got control of my money. Previously, a government payee had dispensed my disability payments because I was too sick to think clearly enough to pay bills or to buy much else besides drugs. Abstinent years passed, and I continued to learn how to live life and grow.

Several months ago, one of my biggest fears came true. I got a letter in the mail from Social Security saying that they wanted to evaluate whether or not I still needed to receive disability benefits. Thank you, God, I was on the phone with an FA fellow when the letter arrived. She told me that God was God of the Unknown and that He was awesome. Her voice comforted me and I didn’t panic.

The next step was to fill out a ton of paperwork to see how disabled I am now, compared to years ago. This felt very threatening to me. God and FA have worked miracles in my life, but I had originally thought that the reason why I came to FA was to protect my disability money. I asked myself, How do I answer these questions honestly? What is the truth anyway? Am I a big liar? Am I still pretty sick and need to humble myself and continue to ask for support? My sponsor guided me through all of this.

Next I needed an interview. I wanted to push it way out into the future. My sponsor guided me to have it as soon as possible. I had a huge meltdown over that, with tons of negativity and fear erupting. I wanted to harm myself, but I did not. I made phone calls and was absolutely as honest as possible with my sponsor. I showed up for the interview and it was very anticlimactic, once again showing me that the things I fear are not necessarily going to hurt me.

I stayed abstinent, which was absolutely the most important thing. Going to meetings, listening to my fellows talk on my calls, being of service, and showing up for life was a welcome relief to the worry and fear that kept threatening to consume me. Eventually, a decision was made and I will continue to receive payments until the next time they decide to give me a review, which could be in a year or three years, I don’t know.

Walking through this experience abstinently, I could see how the way I talk with my fellows has changed since I came in more than six years ago. When I was newly abstinent, I sometimes went to my fellows when I was crying, hyperventilating, or in my full-on meltdown mode. At this point in my recovery, I go to God until I can regain my composure enough to process my thoughts. After talking with a vastly experienced fellow who has a very similar mental illness, I was guided to do a dialogue style of writing and that helps me let go of super intense feelings so that I can then talk with my fellows. My sponsor agreed that I should follow the guidance to write and this has now become a very powerful tool for me. I try to write deeply at least once a day.

I still live with the question of whether I will ever have to take medication again for my mental illness. I don’t want to, and working my program has made it possible for me not to, but I realize I have to surrender this to God as well. I cannot have peace if I cannot surrender everything that I fear. Without peace, I will eat again; and to eat is to die. Thankfully, that is all in the past for now. I’m grateful for my sponsor, God is with me as I write this, and I have hope for this day that I can grow in usefulness. If Social Security decides that I am too healthy for continued benefits, God and FA will guide me through that abstinently. However, I don’t have to think about that because FA reminds me to stay in the day!