Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Alcohol, anorexia and God

Of all the many topics I rarely mention or write about I vaguely ever touch on my drinking or anorexia from my past. Alcohol consumed much of my adult life. For almost twenty years of it. It was my means of escape. My means of masking my depression. My means of running and hiding. Running and hiding from the hell of the bipolar that I was trapped in.

I drank every chance I got and that was pretty often, daily. Many times more than once daily. Alcohol was my comfort zone. It was my best friend and worst enemy at the same time. It didn’t care if it got me into legal trouble. It didn’t care if those I drank with were my real friends or not.

It only cared about one thing. And that was that I consumed as much as possible as frequently as possible. It didn’t care about the arguments between my wife and I. It didn’t care about the financial problems it caused. It didn’t care how I ignored my family. The alcohol didn’t care about the hangovers it caused. All it cared about was being in control of my.

I became known as the drunk at my place of employment.

I was a slave to alcohol and I couldn’t stop on my own. I tried many times and many times I failed. I had to stop. For different reason I had to stop. For the sake of my marriage and family I had to stop. The judge told me I had to stop. And to be honest….I WANTED TO STOP. I just couldn’t.

Facing a felony I was sentenced to mental court due to my bipolar. On the condition I was to attend a step study program and stay sober during the proceedings my record would be expunged and I would serve no time.

God was looking out for me and had his hands upon me. Rather than attend AA I requested to attend Celebrate Recovery. With its approval I began attending. I began attending shy and nervous.

I attended as an alcoholic and anorexic. My anorexia was my form of control. It was my way of having some form of control in my life. Every part of my life was out of control, but I had my say in my eating. It was mine. My control. I was in charge. My goals. My numbers.

Needless to say God began to work on me with my eating disorder as well. I was not in control. My eating disorder was in control. It was controlling me. Not me controlling it. It dictated how I ate and how, when and how much. It dictated if and when I purged. It controlled my destroying my own body. The very body the God owns. God proved to me that He was in control.

In time through Celebrate Recovery things changed. God changed me. God opened my heart and my mind. I no longer drink. I can’t remember the last time I did. I can’t remember the last time purged. I still don’t eat a whole lot, but then again I never really have. I’ve always been small.

I love sobriety. I love not seeing food as the enemy. I love enjoying food and not feeling guilting.

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Where my inspiration comes from

A Recycled-Dad with Bipolar & Parkinson's, reflections on fathering and family life and other stuff thrown in'll love my Soap Box Rants

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Why I call myself a Recycled Dad

I call myself a Recycled Dad because of the struggles with remarriage and being a step-parent and weekend dad. This is also about my life living with bipolar and how it affects me personally, my family and my job. It also reflects on the grace God has poured out on me throughout recovery from alcohol and an eating disorder. Recycled Dad is about my reflections on the wisdom God teaches daily on fatherhood and being a better husband in spite of being bipolar.

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