Fighting Relapse from Food Addiction

 

 

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In my 33 years in program, I’ve witnessed thousands of people dealing with relapse.  And 19 years ago, that list also included myself.  I was in the middle of a devastating relapse.

In the ensuing years, I have studied and written on the topic of food relapse, and shared at length about this at Retreats and Workshops in many places.  Perhaps today would be a good day to take some time to write on it some more.

When I was in the middle of my relapse, my disease had a firm grip on my thinking.  That was not only my thinking about the food, but also all of my program thinking based on knowledge I had acquired since I had entered program – about 14 years’ worth at the time.

One of the main weapons my disease uses against me are my own character defects.  This is why continuing to work the Steps is crucial to gaining any long term recovery.  In particular for me were two glaring defects:  immaturity and narcissism (called self-centeredness in the Big Book).

How does immaturity play into our disease’s plan?  Simple – we want what we want when we want it.  Before program that meant we wanted to eat whatever we wanted, as much as we wanted, but without gaining weight.  Once in program we want recovery without having to do the work and we don’t want to deal with uncomfortable emotions without using food as a medication.  We want to hear from others that we can set an abstinence bar so low that Henry VIII could follow it, or have it include the exact foods we desperately need to give up because we are medicating with them.

I sometimes think in program that we pander to peoples’ diseases instead of being honest about what is going to put them on the path of long-term recovery.  All 12 Step programs dealing with food are based on A.A.  Nobody coming to A.A. is ever left with the slightest hint of an idea that he or she can continue to drink and call themselves sober.

Alcoholics have to give up drinking.  Period.  They have to pay a price of admission, and so do those of us in food programs.  We have to give up the foods we cannot eat like gentlemen (or women).  Yet, we tell struggling people to “start small” with the idea that recovery will grow – the road will get narrower.  While I have occasionally seen this work, it is much more likely that starting with a loose abstinence – at the point of one’s highest surrender – will NOT lead to a tighter abstinence, but a looser one as the pain subsides.  This then leads to slipping, and then out the doors altogether.  I have seen this happen over and over – many more times that I would like to admit.

 My disease wants as much “Toddler Love” as it can get. “Toddler Love” is different from “Realistic Love,” and in other arenas has to do with the age of the person (child) involving in getting it. “Toddler Love” is that unconditional reinforcement we give toddlers and small children. It’s vitally important at that time of child development. It helps build self-esteem and confidence. “Realistic Love” is what we give our children as they get older, to help them mature and become fully formed human beings. It lovingly points out actions that will not serve them later in life, like not taking responsibilities for their actions. A young person who never gets anything but “Toddler Love” often grows up to be narcissistic, self-centered, and with they belief that they never do anything wrong.


In program, the last thing someone with our disease needs is “Toddler Love.” This is especially true if someone – like me, for example – is in a relapse cycle. Sometimes, the disease gets us to use it on ourselves, as a way of justifying continued relapsing. We can either do it to ourselves, or it can be done by “Toddler Love”-type sponsors.


That kind of sponsor tries to give nothing but 100% positive reinforcement, often minimizing the relapse. They will say “it’s okay – dust yourself off and start again” or “Nobody’s perfect, relapse is part of recovery,” implying the relapsing is no big thing. The problem is that if I don’t learn to see relapse as a big thing, chances are it will be a recurring thing.


These kinds of well-meaning people thought they were helping, but instead they were pandering to my disease. The problem was that my disease thrived on that and as a result it grew bigger. “Hear what they said?” it would whisper in my ear. “Nobody’s perfect, relapse is part of recovery! And since everyone is saying that your bingeing yesterday was okay, let’s do it again today!” And my disease would use that as a reason for me to go out and eat again tomorrow – or the next day – or next week. And it did so many times.


In many ways, the hardest thing for program people to do with fellow members that are slipping is to be honest with them. A constant stream of “It’s okay… don’t beat yourself up” messages might feel good to the person saying them, but are they truly helping the recipient? Of course, there is truth in what those people are saying – beating yourself up after eating accomplishes nothing, other than reinforcing already well-entrenched self-loathing. At the same time, however, we need to remember we’re talking to people with an active disease that will take all of our well-intentioned words and use them against the exact person we are trying to help. It will also probably add to a lifetime of negative self-talk they have in their heads.


A good sponsor has the ability to gently, but firmly not buy into the positive reinforcement trap and utilize “Realistic Love.” That sponsor will say “Yup… you messed up. And no, it’s NOT all right that you did, but let’s take a look at why this happened. Obviously, despite everyone’s constant positive reinforcements of your bad behavior, you are still continuing with self-destructive actions. Is this what you really want? If not, what can we do about it?”

 

What might sometimes be more helpful is to say “Stop beating yourself up – by continuing to eat.”  The eating today – more than the self-recriminations tomorrow – is the real “beating yourself up” that needs to stop.