weight loss, 12 steps, God

When people ask how I have lost weight I always tell them through therapy  They look at me funny and they don't believe me.

"No, what are you really doing."

"I am really going to therapy...oh yeah...and I count calories."

But counting calories has been made possible through therapy. And good friends, who go through the same food problems. And little support groups I have made up. And reading blogs about people who have already been able to get their eating under control. And 12 step programs.

Over a year ago, I had a good friend who lost 50 pounds through Weight Watchers. I was amazed. I kept telling myself and her that I was going to join her and sign up. She encouraged me the entire time. I never joined in time and then I watched her gain her weight back. It shook me quite a bit. I'll admit it. If she couldn't stick with it...then how could I ever? I was really sad that she hadn't made it because I knew then, if she couldn't, then I couldn't either.

She kept fighting. She introduced me to the idea of going to the 12 step program and following the 12 step book. The LDS church has a series of them for different addictions and family members of addicts. I didn't really know what to think. It seemed a little out there. I mean is it that complicated? Just don't eat so much. Also, I wasn't addicted.

But then I figured out...I was. And that it is.

This little love affair I have with food is really addiction. It is not just because food tastes good.

I quickly learned that I was already at step one. I was powerless over food. I was truly powerless and I knew it. I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this mess. I had no clue. And I had zero power to do so.

I had watched a show called Intervention. The man was going to rehab, and in the car on the way there was having one last hit of cocaine before they put him in. I. knew. that. feeling. He was me and I was him. Addicted. and powerless.

But when I started to go to therapy, Kristopher gave me power back over my life in many, many ways. And I was able to begin to control my eating. And then line upon line (like Heavenly Father does) I have learned about addiction and how it relates to me.

Early in therapy, it was suggested by Kristopher that I go to the church's 12 step program for some other things, including codependency.

I. LOVED. IT. THERE.

The peace at those meetings exceeds the peace I have felt EVERYWHERE else but one place.

The people at those meetings have been broken. And they are humble. And accepting. And loving. And true. And beautiful.

I have been struggling lately with giving up food.

My friend who lost the fifty and then gained it back, finally found her way. She found it through the 12 step program and through some measures that were extreme, but worked for her. She went on a twenty plus day water fast  (no, I'm not kidding, she is tough as nails.) and then went to a clinic and became a vegan. She learned some things there. I do not know all the details but when she came back she was committed to this life style. I visited her once after seeing that she was struggling with sadness. She told me that she COULD NOT go back to her addiction. Something literally changed in her brain and she COULD NOT go back. And she was left with a lot of crying  And battling through emotional feelings without being able to turn to her addiction to sooth her. So she cried.

I recently can relate to her.

I didn't realize how much I was using food to cope. How much joy and companionship it was giving me. But the past few months I have felt very unsettled. And sadish and like there was nothing to look forward to anymore in life. I am missing my friend (food).

 But I, like Janet, can no longer go back to food. I know too much now. And I know if I binge (which is the way I get relief through food) I will be so sorry later. So sorry that the binge just isn't worth it anymore. And I don't get the same enjoyment from it anymore.  But without the food I am left feeling...I don't even know what. Alone. Unsettled. Stranded. Bored. Empty. Uneasy. Restless. Frustrated.

So today I found myself being propelled to go to a 12 step meeting. I desperately wanted to feel that spirit that I know is there. And I really felt like Heavenly was sending me. I didn't even know which one I was going to for sure. I just went.

And so I sat there with addicts. Drugs, alcohol  sex, pornography, prescription drugs, codependency, food and more. And these people were beautiful. And we were all the same. Fighting addiction.

When it was my turn to "share" I did. I told them I didn't know if this was a stage in addiction but that I missed my friend. I missed my addiction. I told them I didn't know if I was in the right place (I have heard that some don't believe in food addiction compared to these other addictions) but I know that I have been powerless."

The drug addict next to me kept shaking his head yes. He understood. He confirmed that missing your addiction must just be part of it. And afterwards he turned to me and so sweetly told me I was in the right place. The love and grace of the people in there astounds me. They have had weaknesses and challenges that many may judge. But the gifts they have been given because of their addiction exceed things you learn the easy way.

On the way to the group I prayed. Why was I feeling like I should go? Was it real or was it just a thought I got stuck on. "Help there to be a reason why I am going."

The step the group was on is Hope. I learned...I have been FORGETTING to call to God when I am uneasy and unsettled and bored and unsure and lonely and missing my addiction. I barely even think to ask Him for help. I keep thinking I just have to fight the fight through earthly ways. Kristopher, friends, support groups, sheer will power.

I don't call out for help enough. I haven't "become willing to replace trust in ourselves and our addictions with faith in the love and power of Jesus Christ." I haven't "experienced the truth that the foundation of recovery from addiction must be spiritual." (from the LDS Family Services Addiction and Recovery Program handbook) I cried when we read that out loud. I am still, after all I have been learning, missing the glue that will make this stick. Missing the real Peace-giver. Missing the real Comforter. "The Lord is a partner in this recovery."

So now I know (or have been reminded) where my work needs to lie.