A Story of Recovery:

I did not want to be in FA

I did not want to be in FA.  A friend and I went to a few meetings years ago, and the speakers seemed so odd to me — self-indulgent, wallowing in their mistakes and “character defects.” Who wants to latch onto the idea that you have “character defects?”  It seemed so negative, like self-flagellation.

And all that God talk.  I didn’t believe in God.  The God of my childhood was punitive and vengeful. I couldn’t get away fast enough from that negative and guilt-ridden existence.

But I was desperate.  I could not stop eating.  I felt sick, felt like I was poisoning myself.  And I kept taking it out on my husband.

So I dragged myself to a meeting, but crossed my arms over my chest at the idea of having a sponsor.  I didn’t want someone telling me what to do.  I didn’t want to ask permission from someone, a veritable stranger.  For two weeks, I went to meetings and rejected every available sponsor.  “That one looks mean.”   “That one’s chin sticks out too far.  She looks aggressive.”

Then without any conscious thought or plan, I found my sponsor.  A woman stood up in a meeting and I thought, “Oh, there is my sponsor.”

I did the program in the beginning from a place of fear – fear of failure, fear of criticism.  I got it in my head that if I had a break during the first ninety days I would “flunk out and be on probation.”

I was so rigorous that I bucked hard at calling my sponsor when I made mistakes or thought I had messed up.  The first time, I really did not want to call my sponsor.  But I called a fellow and she calmly said, “Oh yes, we call our sponsors in a situation like that.”  So I did. My sponsor was and is a great listener. She asked me how I had gotten into that spot.  Why was I rushing?  She asked all the right questions.

But, then, the very next day, I made the same mistake.  And was furious at myself.  “You are such an idiot,” I told myself aloud with venom in my voice.   That fury lasted a few minutes and then I realized that’s why we call our sponsors.  My sponsor was not going to call me an idiot. And she didn’t.  She listened, helped me figure out how I had gotten into the predicament and helped me plan a way out, peacefully and serenely.

Not believing in God, I had a hard time even conceiving of a Higher Power.  I got down on my knees, because my sponsor said that was part of the program, but I jumped right back up, feeling a little sheepish.

The food tasted good.  And I was not hungry.  And I lost weight.   Easily.  Without exercising.

I liked the structure.  I liked putting program first.  It gave me a feeling of liberation.  I was learning to take care of myself and say “no” to people without feeling guilty.

I learned to cook.

I developed new ways of dealing with stressful situations, and I learned to ask for help.

Just 10 days into program I went to a friend’s wedding; I parked in an adjacent parking lot.   When I left the wedding, at 9:30 at night, it was pouring rain and the parking garage was locked up tight.   I didn’t have a credit card, and you needed a credit card to get out.  I had the $20 in cash I owed, but no way to pay it.

Before program I would have been furious at the people who designed the parking garage, furious at the people who designed the kiosk where you put your parking ticket in to pay with your credit card, and furious with myself.

Instead, I drove toward the exit and read a sign:  “Having trouble exiting, call this number.”  So I dialed it.  I didn’t have much hope, thinking if someone answered he would probably be in Cleveland OH (2500 miles away).  But a nice man answered and told me, yes, I need a credit card to get out.  I explained the situation and asked if he had a credit card, could walk down, meet me, I would give him the $20 cash, and he could use his credit card to let me out.  He said he would come down.

Then I got scared:  What have I done?  I am sitting in this deserted parking garage by myself and have just told a strange man that I am alone.  This could get ugly very fast.

But, he showed up and started looking through his wallet, praying out loud.  He said he thought he had a validation card that would allow me to exit the parking garage for free.   He found the card, put it in the machine that controls the exit bar and it worked.  The exit bar swung up.

I reached out my car window to hand him the $20 in cash.  He said, “Oh no Ma’am.  God bless you.”

This to someone who does not believe in God and never asks for help.

I guess I am beginning to believe in the promises of the program.  I am experiencing them everyday.