Desperate for Discipline

When I got abstinent in 2015, a new-found discipline entered my life. It is not possible to stay abstinent without it; early morning sponsor calls, quiet time, meal preparation, grocery store trips, vegetable chopping, phone calls, committed meetings, more vegetable chopping—you get the idea. It’s no exaggeration that my life took a 180-degree turn when I finally surrendered to the tools and disciplines of FA.

Before this program, I was eating uncontrollably and could not stop. I had been in another Twelve-Step program for food for over three years, trying to not eat. I had sponsors, went to meetings, read books, listened to podcasts, did service, joined Alcoholics Anonymous to stop drinking (hoping maybe that would help), but no matter what I did my food addiction only got worse.

Though I didn’t love FA initially, I knew I couldn’t go back to the other program, nor could I do the “love yourself at any size” route because I tried. I ate too painfully and abusively to ever have a shot at loving myself.

I vividly remember having 19 days of abstinence. I was driving to a meeting, talking on the phone with a fellow FA member, sharing how good I felt. I couldn’t remember the last time I made it that long without hurting myself with food. I finally had hope. Hope that was born from a daily schedule of waking up, calling my sponsor, reading the Twenty-Four Hours a Day book, taking quiet time, eating breakfast, packing my lunch, going to work, making FA calls, going to a committed meeting if I had one that day, eating dinner, reading two pages of the Big Book, and getting to bed early. This was an adjustment, but after a while it became second nature.

My life progressed in a positive way. I left an unhealthy relationship, got my own apartment, and began to pay off my debt. I got a new job, doubled my income, and began dating. I stayed immersed in FA. I went to FA conventions and traveled around to stay with FA members any chance I got. But at some point, I got too big for my britches and what I thought was a firm foundation began to show cracks.

Fast forward to November, 2020. I broke my abstinence due to dishonesty at restaurants and a slew of other behaviors around my food. I had to stop co-leading an AWOL and let go of sponsees and service positions. I had been living with a question around my abstinence and now had a clean slate. I welcomed the idea of extra time in the morning with no sponsee calls and no service positions, which, looking back, was a red flag.

My FA program was, unbeknownst to me, based on self-will, feeling better than other people, fear, desperately wanting attention, and following rules. I wanted to have the most friends and the best sponsor. Was I in the “in crowd?” My service was based on attention. Did they like me? Think I was strong? Smart? Or how about sharing? How good did I sound at meetings? Were people laughing? Does that person who can’t get abstinent hear me? They just need to listen to me. What was their problem? They just aren’t trying hard enough.

I felt that I needed permission from my sponsor to do anything, which left zero room for a higher power. Was I breaking these fictitious FA rules? Would I be shunned if I made X decision? When it came to my life outside of FA, people around me just needed to get their act together. And if I wasn’t a rockstar at it, I wasn’t interested. The high of a new sales job was electric. I was applauded constantly. I managed to win a lot of new business and hit my bonus, making more money than I’d ever thought possible. I was on fire.

Naturally, that fire petered out and I also wanted out. I became a yoga teacher in June 2021 after ensuring I was the best student in the instructor training course. I was attending extra yoga classes, making sure I was constantly connected to the other teachers, reading all the books, always the first to raise my hand, but that eventually petered out, too.

After I broke my abstinence, I asked a woman to sponsor me. She helped me see what I just described and so much more. It has been a rude awakening and I have been humbled. Now I have just over a year of back-to-back abstinence, which has been the hardest of my recovery. Thankfully, I no longer wonder if I’m abstinent because of how much protein I ate at restaurants six months ago, but all this truth has come to the surface.

I am so grateful that I continued to stick around this program throughout this time. I still made phone calls and didn’t eat flour or sugar. I’ve gone to my committed meetings, called my sponsor on time, got on my knees every day, and made gratitude lists. I’ve kept on this journey because of hope. Hope that it will get better. I think I almost understand when older members say that putting down the food was the easy part. Almost.

Recently, the disciplines in my recovery and in life have been based on feelings. If I don’t feel like exercising that day, I don’t. If I don’t feel like doing quiet time in the morning, I’ll do it later. If I don’t feel like working till 4:30 or 5:00, I’ll stop at 2:00 or 3:00 or blow off the day entirely. If I don’t feel like making phone calls, I’ll make more tomorrow. If I don’t feel like staying for a business meeting, I don’t attend because who really cares? If I don’t want another sponsee then I don’t raise my hand at a meeting.

I now have a planned routine and, one day at a time, have committed to my higher power to follow it as my life situations permit to the best of my ability. My sanity and contented abstinence depend on it. Or I can choose not to follow it and I will suffer consequences.

Initially, I wanted some sort of threat to be associated with my commitment, but my sponsor reminded me that I needed intrinsic motivation from a higher power.

I am very grateful for the discipline this program gives me. There is zero chance that I would do even half of this work without FA. I would likely be either face down in the food or trying not to be face down in the food by a myriad of painful methods. Luckily, I no longer have to figure out how to stop eating or manage my life. I only have to pick up the tools FA laid at my feet.