3rd step

This is the first time I have had the emotional energy and time to write down my thoughts since leaving for the AA retreat I went to in Estes Park. I went with my friend Puck we will call him, because he seems like contemporary to Puck in Midsummer Night's dream. He has bad hearing from too much rock concerts, so he tilts his head and has a crooked smile when he listens to you. The location was beautiful, and I stayed in a room with just Brian, which was lovely, because I really did not want to meet people. Since the fellow retreatees were not food addicts, the whole lodge was stocked with junkfood. The weekend would be stressful enough, and having loads of free deliciously bad for me food would not be easy--I told myself I didn't have to be abstinent until after the weekend...

The lady running the retreat saved my friend's life one time--he had been sober and clean for 10 years but was suffering from a severe bout of depression and was suicidal. Retreat Leader, who would remind you of a sandpiper on crack if you met her, dragged Puck back to "the fellowship".

On the way up Puck told me all about his experiences in the "fellowship". He was part of this group called "The Happy Way" who learned their particular method of interpretation of the Big Book from a group called "The Golden Slippers" in Canada. I was drifting in and out of consciousness on the 2 hour drive up to the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park--it had been the first time I had sat down in DAYS. But I had sunglasses on, so I told myself Puck couldn't tell if I was sleeping or not.

The two retretees I was most fascinated with at first were two young, cute girls who came up with the retreat leader. Shorty was a wife of an evidently rich guy and they lived in Vail Valley. Originally from Louisiana, she had this magnetic southern charm. She wore a J Crew jacket and a black diamond horseshoe neclace, and loves dogs. Her rich husband helped her get into the treatment center for women which Retreat Leader worked at. Model Girl was about 20 and looked like a model. Slender and tall, with pixy cut hair and headband, actually looked good in her black stretch pants, patent leather riding boots, bellhop jacket, a silk tie, an expensive-looking Russian wool overcoat, a faux fir hat from the Armani Exchange.

The retretee I talked the most with was Lawyer-guy. Lawyer-guy just got back from 30days of treatment at Hazleton--which cost $30,000. Its the same place Erick Clapton got cleaned up at. He was a lawyer for the National Association of Counsel for Children. His monthly bills are $20,000. He is going to congress in a week to put forth a program that is a little like "Doctors Without Borders but for lawyers. He was once voted National Lawyer of the Year.

On the other hand Saint Trash looked homeless. His bottom jaw was set out farther than his top teeth, and he spoke with a lisp. He was about 75 lbs overweight, and his skin was weathered from a lot of hard living. Everything Saint Trash said was language of the heart. I cringed when he spoke, because I expected whatever he said to be gibberish. However, it was apparent by the end that he was the most wise person there. Once he said, "I have been restored to sanity, but I have symptoms of schizophrenia--go figure." A fiesty old lady, who offered to be my food sponser, was a salty great grandma of 76 years, who said when we were talking about the 6th step (We were entirely ready to have God remove all of our defects of character) "My character defects will all be gone about five minutes after I am in the morgue." A red-faced, white-haired hippie from Boulder, ran over himself with his own truck, and punched out a fireplace before he found grace and surrender. One day his friend asked if he would like to take the third step (turning our will and lives over to the care of God). He said a prayer with his friend--then nothing happened. And everything happened.

I left red-hot mad at God. The reason was because I worked hard all week editing my one-minute movie for my application of my island reef job. It took forever, and I had to get the computer teacher at my school to help me which I didn't want to do because technically I shouldn't have been using instruction time and school equipment to make a movie for another job. I spent all Friday trying to upload it onto the contest site, but it wouldn't go through!! I tried all day, but the file was too big, and because it was close to the deadline, everyone was trying to upload their movies. I thought God should have stepped in to help. I couldn't try all weekend because I was leaving for the retreat. I called my mom, who would do anything for me, and she stayed up all night long resending and resending it while I was at the AA retreat--it never went through. The computer teacher half-heartedly agreed to try the next day. Before I left for the retreat, I loaded up the application and left it, hoping that even if it took a really long time, it would still eventually go through.

Well, anyway I was mad, mad, mad at God. I even swore at God. A lot. I was still mad even when I was at the retreat, because I just didn't think God was being very supportive. On Saturday, for instance, I tried to go on a very long run. I got stuck in the snow, and really steep rocks, and hit my head on a tree branch, and was in general being harassed by nature. I was also very uncomfortable being the only not-alcoholic in a room of alcohalics. I had to introduce myself as a "holic", explaining that I was especially addicted to "self." I told everyone not to come up and be all touchy feely becuase I would feel stupid--I was there to look at my own addictions and hoped to find out where I fit into the 12-step picture.

The first step is powerlessness over our addictions. Our lives had become unmanageable. That is definitely true about me. I am completely out of control in eating, I feel like either Nurse Rachet or Chairmen Mao at work, either coldy intimidating or getting all dictator-y on kids all day long. In addition, I feel like I want to die on the way to and from school.

The second step is coming to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. Sure, I believe that.

The third step--this is where am stuck. "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand him." Its wierd, I am not even that big of a fan of my life, I wonder why its so hard to give it up. Partly, I doubt God's goodness. Sure I have been blessed with a lot of things. But when I am stuck not wanting to exist, then all that nice stuff seems to me like putting delicious chocolate coating on shit. I am sorry if reading this makes all the people who love me feel bad. Maybe I just have a chemical imbalance in my brain. Maybe, if I promise to work at positive thoughts, I will suddenly stop being able to go here. But its where I am.

Humility seemed to be the general theme of the weekend for me. I spent the most time with Marv. Despite his increadibly sucessful work life, he was broken, and needy, and eager to learn from the veterans. Francis floored us with his wisdom. I was suprised to see Regan, who was clearly more stylish than any of us, open up and share her vulnerability.

I talked to Fiesty Old Lady about what it would look like to become part of Food Addicts Anonymous. Three meals a day, completely regulated, no white flour or sugar, 3 different hour-and-a-half meetings a week, then checking in with a sponser daily. WHAT! I felt like crying. That is way too big of a time commitment! Fiesty said stop worrying about it, just take the first step of calling her. She gave me her number. Retreat Leader found me and talked about therapy. Even after she had been sober for 15 years, she was a depressed, anxious wreck who wanted to die all the time. Maybe I need meds? Maybe.

I have a lot to process still. But, I am going to Food Addicts Anonymous to see what its like...I am not excited about joining 12 step, but I at least need to see it. I know that part of what works at 12-step groups is the humility of it all. A bunch of random people are all brought together by what they are the most ashamed, broken, and helpless about. Part of what works is the whole "rule of life" that 12-steps offers. It is a rythm of continually surrendering, confessing, repenting, serving, persevering. I need some sort of rule that keeps me doing inventory, and repairing wrongs, as well as surrendering and serving. I will say that something that is creapy is that "the God of your own understanding" to some people is fairies and spirit guides. That sounds like the Devil. Also, people quote the Big Book like its Holy. And they take it LITERALLY. If on page 56 it says "we took our book off the shelves..." then people will literally put their Big Book on the shelf (not the kitchen counter, not their desk, a SHELF), so they can take their book off the shelf. What?

Next, I have an appointment with a different therapist than I have been to before on tuesday. I don't have a good feel for where to look for support. Do I need a therapist? Do I have enought people in my life that can hold me accountable to something? Is a therapist just going to give me more insight--which is simply not my main problem? Do I need drugs? I hope it is not a waste of time and money to go talk to her.

Regardless, I think I need to take some (all?) of the twelve steps--like renewed surrender to God, working through resentments, making amends (mabye? I am prone to feeling like I need to make amends already..maybe I go overboard?) In addtion, there are some things I think I should do every day--pray, read my bible, run or lift weights, eat a certain way (make eating more cerimonial?). I do not have a practice of regular meditation, fasting, confession, retreat. I don't know what I am supposed to do with Sabbath. I think I need a time budget. (And a money budget for that matter). On the other hand, I tend to schedule way more in day than is humanly possible; I have no room for the new-the spontaneous. I can feel like a big, dumb, ox just trudging along to the next thing...with no awareness, openness to my desires, to the new, etc.

I want to commit to a rule--if not 12-step, a personal rule, long enough to make a difference, but deciding after a while to reexamine it at a certain time. My pastor John said "frame it up" and he would help keep me accountable. This is one thing he said that I liked:

yoJ--
I'll pray for you today. Christ loves you as much right now as he ever will! This is about coming up w a plan that would let that love flower so that J loves J properly!
mercy
hks