“How we walk with the broken speaks louder than how we sit with the great.”
Over a decade ago, I was enslaved to the masters of bulimia and untreated mental illness. I drank to dull the pain of self-hate and the fear of being female. Under the guise of unflinching indifference, I made myself an accessory to seemingly powerful men who needed me to fulfill a story they fancied of themselves. And once used up, my insecurities deemed me a failure for not protecting or enhancing their egos enough to escape them. I moved every six months - not because of career opportunities and progress, but to numb the shame of job losses and neglected friendships. By traveling around the world - from Denver to Africa to Spain to Los Angeles - I sought the adrenaline highs of chaos and unpredictability, hoping adventure would mask the pain of my dysfunctional life. Religiously addicted, I believed "God" was telling me to do it - to sacrifice myself for "His" will. I think it's safe to say I was a little off balance.
These destructive behaviors weren't choices. They were automatic, primal forces. I was both driven and asleep...driven by addiction's persuasiveness, and asleep at the wheel of my life. I was powerless to change without the aid of an entire village.
The people in Alcoholics Anonymous swept me up like a grown-child who's life had atrophied to nothing (because I was, and it had). They didn't care that I was attending meetings to stop vomiting or isolating or taking laxatives. They nurtured me with tough love and kindness. They offered me a type of unconditional acceptance I'd never experienced at home or church.
It was absolutely horrendous at first, receiving love. The idea of allowing someone else to "help" me for free - no strings attached - was humbling and suffocating...repulsive, in a way. It was like acquiring a taste for vegetables when you've lived on skittles. Nonetheless, I learned how to keep a job, show up on-time, and not apologize for existing. They taught me how to challenge my delusional ego defenses, and realign myself with facts. If you ask someone in 12-Step why they do this - why they rearrange their lives to love people in action - the reason is pretty simple: the community is like an underground railroad. Once you've escaped the hell fires of addiction, you wanna pass on the escape route to those still trapped inside.