A month ago, I had a visit from my friend. We had been saying for a long time that we should pick a time for her to come visit my studio and see my artwork. Like so many wishful plans, it hadn’t happened sooner because we were both very busy. So when we saw each other at a party a few months earlier, she said, “Let’s really do it.” So we set a time, and she really came. It was wonderful to have her see my art and meet my artist friends and receive her generous praise and feedback.
When we went to lunch, we began to talk heart to heart. I shared with her that I’d been having trouble with depression and was no longer abstinent from sugar. I’d been struggling with weight gain and other physical problems as a result, and I was absolutely unable to control the self-destruction. I had been praying for help but felt pretty disingenuous asking for it because, while I wanted to stop, I didn’t want to go back to being without the sweets that I loved so much and was enjoying daily. That is the hell of addiction: loving it and being miserable at the same time because you know you are slowly but surely engaging in self-destruction.
My friend understood my pain. We are both in OA, and she has been there. She spoke lovingly to me and gave me some gentle suggestions before we parted.
I felt like I wanted to rest, so I drove to one of our city parks and spread a blanket on the grass. As I lay there looking at the trees and blue sky and enjoying the afterglow of my friend’s visit, I thought, “It feels like I was visited by an angel.”
The next thought that came was, “That is exactly what happened. You were visited by an angel.”
Then I thought, “I feel like I want to be abstinent.”
The thoughts came: “Yes, you can choose to be abstinent, and this is a good time to do it. Or you can choose not to be, but who knows how long it will be before you feel this way again. You can avail yourself of this help now, if you want to make the choice.”
I lay there thinking, “These thoughts are right. I see this is an opportune time, and I really know now without question that I have an addiction and it is a progressive disease because I have seen how it is growing and progressing and gaining in strength. I am eating and doing things with sugar in ways I never have before. I have become scared of it, but I’m still unable to quit. I feel as if I am on my back and my addiction has its foot on my chest. I feel that I have an iron collar locked around my neck and my addiction is holding the chain.”
I realized more and more that this was my chance—that my prayers had been heard and answered, and if I wanted to avail myself of the help, then I should let go and accept the grace that had been extended to me. I made the choice and committed to abstinence then and there. I felt that the grip of the sugar addiction was broken—it was a physical sensation. Released, I felt freer, but I also knew it would be one day at a time.
I am humbly grateful for my friend, who was an instrument in God’s hands and brought me unconditional love, compassion, and an opening out of the torment of self-destruction. As of this writing, I remain gratefully abstinent.
—Ann
