summertime…

…and the living is easy.  Well, not really.  But it hasn’t been too hard lately.  For that, I am enormously grateful.  There seems to be a little trick I’ve picked up; it’s called “shifting your perspective.”  Lifting it up a little bit, shimmying just a few feet higher up the observation tower so you can see a bit more of what’s going on; pulling it down a little bit like a tight shirt so it fits a little bit better.  Being OKAY with the fact that your shirt is tight.  Some shirts are too small, some are too big: deal with it, L.  So, I feel relaxed.  Sort of. 

But, my Ego is out and about, too.  I normally don’t clamber for attention, but lately, I have been.  From guys, from friends, from anyone, and it’s a touchy balance for an addict.  On any given day, I might be struggling to have the self-confidence necessary to step into a social setting and say, “here I am, World!” and on another a taste of recognition–be it for my beauty, my wit, my charm, my talents–becomes that first bite of any trigger food, and I binge on it.  Try to get as much as I can. 

I’ve also–OK.  I have a confession to make.  I’ve been pretending that abstinence is going easier than it is.  There’ve been two, maybe three instances in the past week that I’ve been dishonest with my sponsor about my food intake.  Which is ridiculous.  I feel dirty about that, really sorry and dirty.  As I shared last night at meeting, one of the things I really respect about this program is that it absolutely hinges on honesty.  I could work a half-assed program (translation: I pretty much am working a half-assed program) without abstinence, without fellowship and service, without whatever, but it’s impossible to work it without honesty.  In my defense (and now the addict will justify herself), when I lied that first time about exactly what it was I was eating, I thought in a way I would be protecting my sponsor.  I know–that’s bullshit, right?  Protecting her because her abstinence, to me, is so great and daunting, and because every time I break mine or struggle with mine I feel like I am letting her down.  And that’s been happening more and more frequently…Of course, I know that she cares, and that is a gift for which I am so grateful (and for which I may or may not feel undeserving at times); but at the end of the day it is my program and it requires an honest look.  O Sponsor, I am sorry for my dishonesty.  I feel horrible about it.  Really cruddy.

Amazingly, though, I don’t feel horrible about the extra food I’ve eaten, even though I haven’t been willing to admit to eating it.  See, even though I’ve maybe overeaten in the past couple weeks, maybe eaten for comfort and pleasure, maybe out of loneliness or uncertainty, I haven’t had one of those out-and-out one-thing-after-another binges.  And that is a huge blessing.  I haven’t really felt bad about anything I’ve eaten, I haven’t hated my body, I have taken equal pleasure in salads and more chocolate-laden things to eat.  And I sort of feel that this is right; this is how it should work.  So I don’t know.  While my food hasn’t been “clean” or even necessarily “abstinent,” I haven’t been obsessing.  Progress over perfection, they say.  And I call that progress.  (Dishonesty, though, not so much.  I recognize that and ask for forgiveness from my sponsor and from God and from myself.  And the courage to be as truthful as possible in all aspects of my life going forward.)

I am really grateful I made it to a meeting last night.  It’s always amazing to see how those things make me feel.  They make me feel capable of coming clean, of asserting to myself that I am worth my recovery.  And it’s funny to go in and see the people at a meeting I haven’t been to before, and think, wow.  What a bunch of crazies.  I’m sorry, but in New York you just get some crazy-looking people at the meetings.  People who on the sidewalk you’d avoid, or who on the bus you might pity…And then they speak.  And they say exactly what you wish you were able to articulate.  It is always so humbling, to be in a room with such beautifully aware, hopeful, spiritual people.  The bodies sort of evaporate and you stop judging and start listening.  And that’s great, because whose body do I judge most frequently?  My own, of course.  Anyway.  So, meetings are a good thing. 

Summertime and the living is easy.  I am having fun, I am getting not enough sleep, I am working and playing in almost equal measure these days.  I am working on my own work; this is play in and of itself.  I am meeting new people.  I am getting shit done and having time to sit on my ass, too.  I am not eating every time I have time to do so.  That’s good.  I am lying sometimes: I admit this and I hereby commit to work to change that.