A Story of Recovery:
Rebellious Inner Child
My road to 90 days of continuous abstinence took 164 days. I chose to create extra bumps in my path by resisting every tool and discipline. My family of origin labeled me “The Rebel” early on, and my attitude did not change when I labeled myself a “Food Addict” after joining FA. My wise and patient sponsor encouraged me, rather than corralling me with “shoulds” and “musts.” Even an entrenched rebel like me has trouble railing against unconditional love.
Slowly, begrudgingly, I began making outreach calls. Speaking to three people by phone remained my goal for the day for at least 40 days of my first four months in FA. Eventually that onerous chore morphed into an enjoyable activity.
I attacked my quiet time next. In my twenties I tried meditation, but no matter how hard I worked at the practice, I never achieved the quiet mindset and solace that other people spoke of. Last year when I tried to sit quietly, I expected and obtained the same results as my previous attempts. My thoughts bounced around my brain like a demented video game on steroids─boring! Again, my sponsor encouraged me; baby steps. Then one day I attained ten minutes, then 13! Gradually I increased my total time. I recorded each new time in my journal. My path jumped around like a needle on a Richter scale until that amazing, never-to-be-forgotten day when I actually heard the gentle chimes of my timer without checking the elapsed minutes even once. Now I dive into quiet time; I know that it is during these brief moments that my Higher Power gifts me with vivid images and inspiration for my art projects, grants me solutions to interpersonal challenges and provides soft moments of spiritual rest. Each gift is a rare intangible morsel to be savored.
Of course I rebelled against meetings. Why three? Most meetings were at least 30 minutes (!) away and I couldn’t talk; not fair! Then there was that exact, repetitious format at all meetings─boring! When speakers told their story or abstinent members shared, I mentally compiled brilliant answers to their rhetorical questions. In silence I rebutted many of their statements and generally carried on a constant internal dialog. I was too busy with my incessant mental chatter to open my heart and truly listen.
On the positive side of the equation, I never rebelled against the food choices or portions. As a life-long dieter I had spent years weighing and measuring. I like big portions, but even I couldn’t argue with these amounts. I soon noticed that I was satisfied at the end of a meal, not on the verge of explosion. Over time my cravings diminished.
“I am on a roll!” I crowed one morning to my sponsor. Pride before the fall.
For 74 days I chose only foods that were part of my plan; I even managed a Caribbean vacation with my family and my trusty travel scale. I sailed along filled with confidence that this part of the program would not be an obstacle. Then came my birthday. My eldest son and his family visited to celebrate with me. My son is a really great cook. He studied my food plan and prepared tasty, abstinent foods for every meal. On their last day with us I went out to an FA meeting, and while I was gone, he concocted an abstinent food substitution for my preferred birthday confection. Unfortunately, my son surprised me after I had weighed and consumed all my foods for the day.
I am an adult child of alcoholic parents. In childhood, I developed strategies that worked then, but do not serve me well as an adult. “People pleasing” is one of those childhood holdovers. I have struggled to jettison this trait with mixed results over the years. So when presented with this loving gift of technically abstinent food from my son, I had a no-win choice to make. I could hug him, thanking him for his thoughtful act and explain that I did not eat after dinner. I could look into his eyes and share how important abstinence is to my well being, tell him I would relish his surprise for lunch the next day. Or I could take a few bites and watch his reaction to my consumption of his present and hope my sponsor would give me a pass. Food is love, right? I only had 16 days to make my 90-day threshold. She would understand, I reasoned.
I people-pleased myself right into the mouth of choice number two. My kind, patient sponsor listened politely to my rationalizations the next morning. She instantly declared my action to be a “people- pleasing” break! I detected a note of steel in her voice and I kept a smile of resignation in mine as I ended our call, then my rebellious nature shot into overdrive.
“You want to see a break? I’ll show you a break!” Rubbing my palms together, I planned my fully-fledged break. This one was not going to be a measly three-tablespoons break!
I charged around the house like a frenetic grasshopper. In my life before FA, I would have declared a real “take no prisoners, jump into an enormous vat of self pity” break. That break would have been liberally spiced with sugar, flour, salt and proportions that would stagger a sumo wrestler. In less than three seconds I could embrace my righteous anger and turn my back on all my hard-won abstinence, my new friends, my spiritual progress. I reattached my “I’ll show them” chip onto my shoulder. Look out world!
Unbearable choices again: rebel and face the horrendous cravings and gut wrenching guilt or soldier on and learn from my experience? Would the inner child win or the fledgling adult? All afternoon I fought my demons. Finally, I reached for my FA toolbox and started making phone calls. During the first call I complained about how unfair the program was. I railed against the harsh, unfair consequences for such a minor transgression. For my second call I bathed in self abuse and recriminations. Dredging up all my old insults, beating myself up and wallowing in a trough of guilt. By my third call my self-hatred had begun to ebb; I brainstormed with my friend on how to forgive myself and move on. Luckily for me, my short-lived rebellion fizzled. I never allowed myself to dive headlong into that vast vat of self-pity.
The next 90 days sped by much faster than the previous 74. I practiced gratitude as if it were a martial art. I reveled in my ability to feel my Higher Power’s touch and listen to my sponsor’s wisdom and sound advice. I no longer strove for perfection. Now I found contentment in quiet time, the FA tools and the fellowship of my co-members. I let go of my obsession with results and concentrated my efforts toward personal growth. I found the strength to shut off my mental debates during meetings and began to really listen not only with my ears, but with my heart and spirit.
During this period of renewal, I still battled my inner demons and fought my rebellious inner child. However, day by day I felt stronger both spiritually and physically. On day 176 I shared at an FA meeting for the first time, expressing abiding gratitude to my Higher Power and to my patient sponsor, who both held me accountable.
I am humbled by the acceptance that I have found in FA. Six months after I reached my 90 days of abstinence, I reached my natural weight. This week I welcome my first sponsee into my heart. I know my journey has just begun, but looking forward, the path seems a bit less bumpy.