After a binge

A frequent search phrase is: What to do after a binge? From today’s standpoint, I have various ideas. But I decided to look and see how it was back then. Here’s an excerpt from 1983, during the first phase of recovery. It’s taken from my book:

“Plunging to the depths. The more I fight, the deeper I fall. Tonight was pure shit. Blinded by hateful darkness, vainly seek the simple beauty of each day, with its concomitant sense of renewal. Same old loneliness that I’ve acknowledged, but weeks of cleanness made it so much more intense. And I tried to run. God, please forgive me. Help me. Please deliver me from self-hatred. It’s not the end of the world, but there’s a distorted desire – for utter ruin. To destroy all I’ve been working toward in recent sobriety. [I equated healthy eating with being sober.]

Yet this, too, is a challenge. Do I want to use this misery for all it’s worth – or do I have the courage to renew the connection, swallow my pride, and go on? To return to the path, despite the imperfect record. Why focus on this? Look, will you look at the recovery of the past months. You’ve gone from lost years to intermittent lost days. That is growth. Memory is returning. Despite this momentary confusion, there is a new level of clarity. Now – you can work at further mutilation, or you can go on. The choice is yours.

Dear World, Dear Martha, please forgive yourself. Stuck here writing to myself. Only I can comfort, because only I know the torture and suffering. Keep going, the tears are coming. I am alone. Too proud to reach out. Terrifying – but I must be clear – to realize that I could wipe out everything in just a week. Today was moderate, yet it was $30. Be nice – wash your dirty face, brush those filthy teeth, and go to bed. And let go of the cynic derision and contempt.

Unfortunately, again faced with the fact of how easy it is to be drawn back into past patterns. Two nights ago, I lied to myself. I pretended that I could really just do it once. That was late evening. The next day, Thursday, was lost. Today, I prayed and made it through until the evening. The danger seems to be in feeling too content. When a new level is reached, I want to hold on to it. But that’s impossible. The challenge is to go on, to enjoy the peace and serenity, but to remain aware of the constant change and growth. One must always move forward. I try to stop it, to stand still, but that is only going backwards. It’s so hard to forgive myself. So many doubts return in full force. Especially the fear that the world is humoring me, and laughing scornfully all the while. But in truth, I am the one who laughs and scorns the most. Others may, too, but it’s my inner hate which must be faced.

Oh! 3 am phone call. Nice visit with Mom. Gave her the rundown; asked if she’s disappointed in me. She’s not, she loves me as always, feeling only compassion.”

The message is: self-forgiveness. Looking back, I see that I was overly concerned with disappointing other people when I had a relapse. This added a lot more pressure to an already rough situation. Meanwhile, they weren’t disappointed. No, they just felt sad that I was suffering so terribly. They felt the compassion that I was lacking.