Hola! I feel like I need to do some catch-up posts to sort of catch y'all up on things. So we left off in the Fall of 2022. I had managed to survive the pandemic with "most" of my sanity in tact. I had spent the last 9 months bingeing, sleeping and hiding. Life felt pretty small. I was having different problems physically that I had not had to deal with before, which made me believe I had gotten even heavier than I was before. A "point of no return" land where I was destined to die alone. Thankfully that wasn't possible because I had roommates, but they never saw me during daylight hours; when the effects of yet another night of bingeing would present and I'd have no other choice but to sleep the day away, so I could be up and ready to repeat the cycle again in 8-10 hours. It wasn't much of a life. And one night something in me shifted. I FINALLY got sick and tired of being sick and tired. You'd think that having a hip joint bone on bone since 1994, two knees bone-on-bone since 2001would make anyone want to change their life. But as a Irish Catholic who endured 12 years of plaid skirts, let me assure you my tolerance for pain is SUBSTANTIAL. Nope, I'd gone from using a cain, to using a walker, to using a wheelchair, to not moving very much all by mid-December of 2022. And luckily because of the pandemic, 95% of OA meetings were on Zoom. I went to the December 21, 2022 meeting. There I heard what I can only now confirm were words from Mike, my Higher Power (more on Mike later). I heard, "You have to be willing to go through the discomfort of detoxing from your alcoholic foods." Being "uncomfortable" is NOT one of my preferred states of being, if you haven't guessed. But that kernel of truth got stuck in my mind and would just not leave. And there was a person there who absolutely had what I wanted by way of recovery and she was available to sponsor. After the meeting I called her and asked her if she would be my sponsor. "Why do you think I'm reluctant to be your sponsor?" I knew why but didn't want to give voice to one of my most embarrassing character defects: I'm a quitter. I don't stick. I don't stay. As soon as things get uncomfortable, I'm OUT of there. I take the easier, softer way. I couldn't argue with the truth. I copped to the truth. She said she'd give me a 30 day trial. I would take whatever I could get. Little did I know what I was getting into. In the best way possible.
We got started at the beginning. Did I believe that I was truly powerless over food, and that my life had become unmanageable? I was ready to cry, "UNCLE!". I was beat. I could no longer try to pretend that my life was any kind of manageable, let alone desirable. I conceded to my truly inner most self, for the first time ever, that I was completely unable to control and enjoy my food. I was ashamed, exhausted and humbled. I was finally done. I was now able to relax, my body sagging against the ropes of the boxing ring. Food had knocked me out.
When I finally came to, there was my sponsor in my corner.
My sponsor said that how she got the recovery I wanted was by saying "how high?" every time her sponsor said jump. I was afraid that what would start out as a good faith effort would fizzle away like every other good intention I had ever started with. I finally decided to divorce myself from the word "forever" and get to know my good friend "tomorrow". My sponsor told me I would be meeting with her an hour a day M-F, have nightly homework and needed to go to as many meetings as physically possible. Luckily zoom meetings were in an abundance at the time. It was literally an embarrassment of riches in that respect. I would find myself going to multiple fantastic meetings in a single day. With a willingness that I can only describe as Miraculous, I made a beginning. I think it's a miracle that I did.
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