The Playground of Life
By Lisa K
As I listened to Amanda Leith describe the “downward slope” of addiction I immediately went to the memory of being propelled down a slide in the playground. I remembered the old metal playground slides of yester-year. You know, the ones that heat up in the summer sun and burn your backside when you slide down them. I can remember those being the only playground equipment I could safely, well almost safely, use in my childhood. I would eagerly stand in line waiting my turn, climb the stairs and precariously perch my oversized body on the top of the slide. With one minor shove I was off, careening down the slide, excited & jubilant as the wind hit my face and blew through my hair. I knew that once the ride began there was no stopping it until I hit the bottom of the slide instantly feeling dread as I fell off the end. I would find myself sitting in the sand at the bottom of an exhilarating ride, embarrassed by the flop I made at the end of the journey. For many years, the exhilaration would outweigh the embarrassment and I would race as fast as my obese body would carry me to the end of the line and eagerly await my next turn. As I got older the slides became longer and longer. I would wedge my growing body on the top of the slide and hope that the longer slide would give me the desired exhilaration, postponing the inevitable drop to the ground ending my downward journey a little longer. As I grew older, I learned that the push I needed to get going was lighter, the desire to end the ride was lesser, and the inevitable drop to the sand could never truly be avoided.
This playground memory makes me think of the addictive cycle in the playground of life. I have many memories of waiting for my food, thinking and salivating at the thoughts of this food or that food. I remember climbing the stairs of various actions to acquire my food, and the anticipation of the exhilaration that the first bite would provide. Once I shoved the first bite into my mouth, it would slide down with more and more bites, not being able to stop them from coming, until I would hit the end of the food and drop to the floor in agony and embarrassment. I no sooner would be done with one binge and I would start planning the next time to eat. I would eagerly plot out what I was going to eat, when I would eat it, and how I would get it. Thirty-four years ago I lost some weight and told myself “I would never gain weight again.” I donated all of my “fat” clothes in hopes that the playground of life would change and I would never ride the slide of food addiction again. Well, that slide in the playground had too much pull and called out to me daily, tempting me to get up the stairs and ride again. That is what I did for the next thirty-one years. I repeatedly found higher and higher slides to ride, consuming more and more food each time waiting for the exhilaration of that first bite and the many to follow until I hit the ground in misery and shame. I couldn’t stay there on the ground writhing so I would seek out the next food “fix” and do it all over again, propelled by a disease I didn’t know I had and didn’t really understand.
I hated those meals, which quickly became days, soon to be decades of endless eating. I couldn’t stop from getting up on the slide of addiction and once the journey began with a bite I couldn’t stop the ride down. I was compelled to continue using this slide, hoping one day the exhilaration would not be followed by dread and shame. That day never came for me, only
more and more despair. The food began to not give me any exhilaration, only extreme sorrow and sadness. I became so disillusioned with myself and the image of God I created in my head that the last time I hit the ground I was ready to stay there and die in the playground sand. I lay in the sand not being able to pick myself up and staring up at the slide wishing God would put me out of my misery.
Until unbeknownst to me, God provided a solution. One I stopped looking for because it never came. God provided this solution through a food addiction program, relationships with a food addictions counselor and many recovered fellows, and clear directions in a Big Book of recovery. God gave me the courage to let Him pick me up out of the sand and set me a path walking around the playground and away from the slide of addiction. By walking this path, one day at a time, one moment at a time, one prayer at a time, I am able to stay clear of that first bite which would only propel me down into the pit of despair yet again. I have come to learn that I have to do the footwork. I have to walk the path by living all 12 steps on a daily, if not moment-by-moment, basis, but I don’t have to do it alone. God is with me all the way, steering me in the vast playground of life. When I admit I am utterly powerless over the slide of food addiction and I give a God who is all powerful complete control of my life, He shows up in ways I could never have imagined.
I never thought I could play on any playground equipment other than that metal slide that in the end led to only torture and hate. As long as I stay clear of the slide of addiction and allow God to lead me, I can go anywhere and do anything. I can play on any equipment and feel the exhilaration of living happy, joyous, and free. I have discovered so many other ways to play in the playground. I can walk through the sand, I can hang from the monkey bars, I can sit on a swing, I can run and jump on the merry-go-round. I can live a full life without regret. I love the playground of life that God and recovery have given me today.
Lisa K