A Story of Recovery:

No Quick Fixes


Recently I was reminded of that passage from the Big Book that talks about how we so desperately try to re-create the “good feelings” alcohol used to bring us, but every time we took another “first drink,” it was the first step on a trip to hell. (Of course, I am rather doubtful about the accuracy of those pleasurable memories, in the first place!)

I don’t know what is right for anyone else, I just know that for me, every time I have a food thought like that (Oh, the good old times…), I really need to think it through to the end; to what comes after the good feelings of the first couple of bites. I just know that for me (please God!!), the research and endless, doomed search for those “good feelings” is over.

For me, to eat is to be completely cut off from God, my fellow human beings, and from any hope.  I am not saying that life does not have challenges, or discomfort, or loneliness.  It has all of those things–that’s the human condition.  But abstinence gives me the hope of seeing what is good and hopeful.  It gives me the opportunity to see what is blocking me from living the kind of life I wish I were living (usually fear, or some other character defect, but most often, fear).  When I see what is really blocking me (myself!), then I can ask God for help to know what the next right thing is.  I can pray to be aligned with God’s will.  Which, for me, I know, is certainly to be abstinent.

I don’t know what anyone else needs to do to get to their happiness and destiny.  I do know that there are no quick fixes.  This journey of abstinence and recovery is a beautiful and long journey. The kind of hope and relief I am now experiencing as a result of living in recovery has not been true for me all along. I remember having conversations with my sponsor, even a year ago, about whether I would ever feel “happy, joyous and free,” as the Big Book promises. My experience, and the experience of those who have shared their process with me, is that this takes a long time. But I can say from my own experience, it is worth it!

I can count any number of experiences, just in this day alone, that would have been impossible for me six or more years ago.  The way I was able to show up for my family, the way I was able to see when my own fears were being triggered–so that I didn’t have to lash out at any family members but could get quiet, ask God for help, and then just continue showing up. That was a miraculous day for me!

I will give just one example. At dinner tonight I had to let go of my fruit. At that same meal, I was able to say something comforting to my daughter after she told me about an incident in which she had felt insulted by a friend’s rude comment.  I was pretty triggered by her story, and in the old days, I would not have been able to be supportive of her because I would have given in to my own fears and insecurities about whether my daughter is “good enough.” (For example, maybe the friend is right and my daughter is weird, awkward and negative!)

Because of recovery, I was able to see that my own fears were being triggered, and I could just be quiet. And then the following “God thought” very quietly came into my brain and out of my mouth, “Often when people say hurtful things it is because they, themselves, are feeling inadequate and need to somehow bring someone else down a peg or two.”

I am sure God was speaking through me in that moment. Left to my own devices, I would have wallowed in fear, doubt and insecurity. I would have been completely unable to comfort my daughter. I would have been completely unable to have any compassion for my daughter’s friend. I am humbled by the absolute and utter certainty that in the moment I offered that comfort to my daughter, God was working through me. Because I am 100% certain that I could not have come up with that thought on my own in a hundred years.

Walking away from the restaurant, another thought came to me, right out of our new FA book, “less food means more God.”  This is exactly what I had experienced! I had peacefully let go of the fruit because the restaurant didn’t have any. And because I was not obsessed with food, cravings and self-pity, I could show up and be a channel of God’s love for my daughter. I was so filled up! I would not trade that moment for any amount of sugar and flour! But I could never have a moment like that without first sitting through some big feelings of discomfort and not eating.

Usually for me, underneath feelings such as anger or loneliness is a lot of sadness. And the true remedy for sadness is definitely not food. I understand when someone says they are lonely. Food does not bring companionship. Confronting fears, asking God for help, and doing the next right thing in recovery–those are the antidotes to loneliness for me!

 

This story was originally published in the Connection Magazine. Subscribe to the Connection Magazine for more stories of recovery. Or submit your own story of recovery.