A Story of Recovery:

Who’s Driving Your Bus?

At my book group meeting, a friend who is not in FA described what she calls my “weight-loss program” as a high goal that I had worked hard for. I responded that although losing 100 pounds and keeping the weight off for three years was life changing, it never really met my image of a “goal.” I hadn’t set my hat firmly on my head, put my nose to the grindstone, and forged ahead, using super-human willpower and determination. I told my book group friends that I really didn’t “do” anything; that I had just finally gotten out of my own way so that God could relieve me from this addiction, one day at a time.

I could tell by the smiles that some of my friends thought I was crazy and in denial, and that they thought there was no way I could have shed this weight without being the driver of my own bus. I didn’t take the time to tell them that I drove my own bus for over 50 years and kept getting into worse and worse trouble—excess cargo at 253 pounds, no gas, full-blown body failure, and impending engine failure. I didn’t share that I was in so much pain that I finally decided, “Okay, God, I have totally messed up as the driver of this bus. I’m going to let you take over.”

What a great thing to be able to admit that I am not in charge any more! I don’t have to run the world—it does just fine without my input. I don’t have to control my family; they are all adults now and are doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing. I am learning to butt out.

Does this mean that I don’t have to do anything? I just wake up in the morning and God does everything for me? No. I have to do the next right thing. I have to plan my meals, take my quiet time, and do the work. I have to show up to my meetings, my commitments, my friends, and my family. I have to do my small part, my one percent.  I’m an important part of the team, but I am God-powered, not me-powered.

I would like my friends to understand that this Twelve-Step program is not about trying harder, working longer, striving, and straining. It is about letting go, trying softer, being gentle, loving myself, getting out of my own way, and accepting what is. Will my friends ever understand? I doubt it. How can a non-addict understand being willing to do anything for that next bite, eating out of the garbage, stealing food from your children, stashing food around the house for future binges? It is likely incomprehensible to them, and that’s okay. As long as I understand and remember where I came from, God and I will make sure I never go back there.

All I know is that I prayed and prayed for a miracle, and I believe that FA was the answer to that prayer. I wanted to be thin so badly. What a bonus: I wanted to be thin, was given that gift, and then found out that it was only the beginning—the best was yet to come

I’m not sure if buses need co-pilots, but God and I will keep driving my bus, one day at a time.

 

 

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.