Second Chances

Last fall I received a highly distressing email from the director of the organization where I work. It stated that a new law had recently been passed requiring all practicum trainees to be fingerprinted by January 1 or else they would not be able to complete their practicum hours.

I still needed additional hours. If I wasn’t fingerprinted, I would not graduate from my therapeutic degree program. I felt my stomach sink.

Fortunately, I didn’t have an urge to eat addictively at that moment. Instead of going to the food as I have done for so many years to fuel my denial of difficult truths, I called my sponsor. God bless this woman, who allows me to use her as an “emotional airbag” when my personal resources are depleted and an emotional crash seems imminent. Calling my sponsor and leaving her a mostly calm message detailing my concerns helped me to feel proactive. Calling her was choosing to take the path of positive actions. Calling my sponsor sparks my relationship with God to jump up a notch to meet the challenges of a sudden, new addition to my reality.

I should mention why the prospect of getting my fingerprints was so alarming. I have lived two lives. Years ago, I was homeless and had been diagnosed with severe mental illness. During that time, I tried to regulate my moods with bulimia, exercise, alcohol, and substances. As a result, many of my memories are missing or distorted. I broke laws and got caught. Thankfully, I received a lot of help from social services and was able to get off the streets. And then, by the grace of all that is good, I stumbled into Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) and started my second life.

It is truly remarkable that anyone was willing to sponsor me. I had a really rough time and was psychotic and suicidal. However, my sponsor was a rock of support and consistency, and as I weighed and measured my food and did my tools, my symptoms receded.

I studied and worked the Twelve Steps in FA and slowly was guided to clean up my past. I was scared that I would go back to jail and lose my social security because of my lawlessness, but my Higher Power took care of it all. All I lost was my shame and the desire to eat addictively.

Finally, I was ready to return to school. I flourished in my graduate program to become a therapist. And now, a directive to have my fingerprints taken would endanger all I had worked for. I kept repeating to myself, “Tools, tools, tools!” As the quote from the Big Book (Alcoholics Anonymous) says, “Don’t think, don’t drink, and get to a meeting.”

My sponsor helped me develop a course of action. It was perfect and right and I did not want to do it! It involved asking my director of the counseling agency if we could schedule an interview. The day of the interview, I took extra quiet time, talked with my fellows, and I was ready. I sat down and told the director my story about my recovery and the therapy that had inspired me to learn the skills that would allow me to help others professionally. My director asked me a bunch of probing questions. I felt calm even though my heart was beating unusually quickly. The session ended with my director asking me to tell my story to my clinical supervisor. My director also indicated that she wanted to support me and keep working with me.

I worked my FA tools. The prospect of another reveal was similarly daunting, but I just kept talking with FA friends, going to meetings, weighing my food, and consulting with my sponsor.

The second interview was a week later. I again leaned on my tools and Higher Power. A part of me just wanted to cut and run. My FA part held me in place and kept me grounded. The second interview again involved a lot of questions and emotional energy, but I made it through with supernatural support. FA has given me a lot of experience in sitting through difficult conversations. Not easy training, but priceless to have.

With some trepidation, I had my fingerprints taken. Miraculously, my director got the results and did not feel any need to reach out to me for further discussion. What a gift! It now looks like I will graduate soon.

Of course, I still have to disclose my convictions to the licensing board to see if they will allow me to continue working toward licensure. However, I know what to do. I am nervous about the outcome at times, but that’s when I reach for my tools, which give me a direct link to my Higher Power. It seems like God really does believe in the Twelve Steps and in giving me and many others a second chance at life.