"so... have they talked to you about your weight?"

 

If profanity offends you then do not read this blog post.

 

I am 6'3" tall.  I weigh 270lbs., give or take.  Most of it is not muscle.  My waist size right now is 44".

I'm a big guy -- I believe the word, without euphemism (stocky, bearish, barrel chested, thick in the middle, etc.) is fat.  Although I don't have the self loathing that I used to in this arena -- and I've been up and down in my weight over the years (basically I've owned Gap khakis in pretty much every damn size they sell them in) -- I'm not quite as happy at this number (pretty much the biggest I've been) and wouldn't mind being a little bit trimmer.  No big dramatic change, just down a notch or two.

To give you some perspective on how that translates in the real world, I can fit into an airline seat -- unless they shrank 'em yet again -- albeit uncomfortably (and since in that context I can be a little self conscious about my size I'll probably cede the armrest to you).  I don't need a seat belt extender, but I sure as hell have to take a deep breath to fasten the damn thing.

You'll need some of that information in a little bit.

 

A new year and a new direction.  For the past two years I've been writing pretty much full time, and that sedentary occupation, coupled with a profound dislike of the gym, fed the weight gain.  I'm actually a pretty healthful eater, it's that I don't move much is more the issue.   But the full time writing, drawing on a little savings for a time, was a chance to live a dream -- and this blog was the kickoff for a new level of discipline in that regard.  At one point I even thought that this blog might be a book, "Mr. SponsorPants: 12 Step Experience for AA's and Friends."  What the hell, somebody's gotta give Chuck C. and "A New Pair of Glasses" a run for their money, right?  It would be anonymous, like the blog, so I'm covered ethically -- and I'd hoped -- as I always have with the blog -- that this writing in book form might get into the hands of people who needed help but aren't busy poking around the web for recovery blogs. As I've responded to some of you in your kind emails, I'm always humbled and grateful that anything here might be helpful to anyone "out there."  And as my first sponsor told me a long time ago, "God hit you with the talking stick -- it's one of the ways you're supposed to be of service."  I never questioned him on it, I just took that in and tried to apply it appropriately over the years.  So when the inspiration for this blog came to me (as an unwelcome answer to a panicked prayer) I thought back on what he'd said, and took comfort from it.

I'll keep blogging -- as I write this right now I don't know if there's ever going to be a book -- but with the financial resources dwindling it was time to get a "regular" job again.  And I have to tell you, I dragged my feet on that score and cut it a bit too fine.  It got scary.  It's a tough job market, I live in a very "young" city, and I'm nearly fifty -- and as regular readers may have gleaned from other posts here, I've had a more bohemian, checkered, service-industry type job path over the years:  Sales Trainer, Book Store Manager... even (briefly) radio talk show host (although the show was broadcast from a tower which had about as much wattage as your average blow dryer.  Still, it was a paying gig for a time).  And, as with any working adult who is not on one specific career track, I've knocked on some doors which didn't open, but would have been (I thought) a great fit for me.  AA has taught me to look at those things as "God's will" -- that is, I will be given a chance to be of service someplace else, that wasn't the spot meant for me.  Often that's expressed, in AA terms, as "we do the footwork, and then we turn the result over to God."  So in terms of work, I do the footwork -- make sure the resume is smart and right, press the shirt, put on jacket and tie, give the best interview I can, write the thank-you-for-the-interview letter, and then whatever happens... whether I get the job or not, is the result, is the part I leave in God's hands  Okay, I can live with that philosophy -- and have, with varying degrees of comfort, over the past almost 23 years sober.

But as I said, the money was running out, I'd procrastinated (my ancient enemy, my boon companion) and the heat was on.  No, let me put it this way:  The heat was ON.

So I prayed for help, and as is often the case with me, two things happened:

1. God, or HP, or The Great Kazoo, seemed to orchestrate some kind of cosmic shift on my behalf, and I got help.

2.  I didn't like the help I got.

But although I moaned and wept, I did my part of the equation; I did the footwork, and the result was that I got a job which is really an excellent opportunity.

Except I had to shave my beard off and go into the food industry -- an industry I was happy to patronize, but had no desire to participate in.

Back to the service industry we go.  Secretly I seethed at God.  I wanted something a lot more fabulous, a lot more interesting, a lot less labor intensive.  I wanted something sexy, like the kind of job you give to quirky movie characters.  I didn't want to be a fucking restaurant manager!  Never mind it's a great company and the potential is huge -- I don't want to have to shave to fit their stupid dress code.  I'm artistic!  I'm erudite!  I'm special!  "Why can't you send me something like that, God?" I screamed in my head.  And to be clear, I screamed it a lot.

God's only answer was in the form of an email from my new employers, inviting me to join them for my first day of work Monday, January 3, 2011, at 10:00am for orientation and to start my training.

"You suck, God."  I whispered to myself.

"This will be great for you, and is just what you need, and will be fun and exciting and an amazing..." some healthy part of me, pushed to the back of my head and buried beneath layers of ego and fear and entitlement (like when you put too many blankets on the bed and you wake up in the middle of the night all sweaty) asserted -- or tried to.

"Shut the hell up, healthy part." I snarled.  I was too busy feeling wronged by God to listen to anything healthy.  I shared about this with some of my AA peeps, and with my sponsor, to varying degrees of sympathy or dismissiveness. 

So I showed up for my new job/opportunity/life yesterday.

The first day was easy.  Just talking and paperwork, although there was a lot of both.

Today?  Today was hard.

Early in the day I looked around at my co-workers, bright-eyed, trim young things, most in their early 20's, smart and sharp and having done the job for a while, really on their game.  I felt alternately like a whale out of water, clumsy and not in my element, or like some decrepit loser, projecting onto their smiling faces questions about how I wound up here with them.

I recognized it as fear and ego and self pity, and went in the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face and prayed.

A quarter of the way through the day I was juggling trays of food and doing all that restaurant work which looks easy but isn't (I am here to tell you - it isn't.)  Without my beard I look very, very different -- people literally don't recognize me.  Several AA's I know -- not well, to be fair, but we know each other -- came in to eat.  They did not see the face of their sober acquaintance in the face of the man trying not to drop their soup in their lap, and I didn't break cover.  It was hard though, not to wonder about the decisions I've made in life which brought me there.  That's one of the things about sobriety -- after you work through your self pity and delusion and entitlement and put a muzzle on your ego, you are left with nothing but the sober view of taking responsibility for your part in things.  I hate that.

Half way through the day my co-workers were talking about the guy who does my job at another location.  I was just standing nearby, not really part of the conversation.  My new boss was talking about showing this guy the paperwork and how to do certain parts of the job.  "First pass, he got it all right away.  All the ordering, everything."  "Wow." another coworker said.  "Yes.  When he first came in I joked with the Big Boss that I couldn't hire someone that good looking, it would be distracting..."  "He used to model, you know."  Other coworker added.  "He did? Doesn't surprise me."  My boss opined.  "Yeah, back in Brazil, where he's from.  Swimsuits or fitness or something."  "Really?"  "Yeah."  "Oh, that explains the language thing."  "What language thing?"  "Well, a lot of people are fluent in english and spanish, but he's fluent in portuguese, too."  I excused myself and went to the bathroom.  "Really, God?"  I asked.  "The guy I'm potentially being compared to is a tri-lingual, Brazillian swimsuit model?  For real?  Are you shitting me?" 

Apparently, and for the record, God is not shitting me.

This incarnation of great DNA, high intellect and stupendous job performance will be working alongside me next week.  As in, right alongside me.

Joy.

Three-quarters of the way through the day I was head and shoulders inside a refrigerator, scrubbing with real enthusiasm in an effort to show I was worth their investment.  I pulled my head out and looked around the restaurant.  We're located downstairs from a popular, expensive health club.  It appeared as though the three o'clock spin class had come downstairs to enjoy a salad together and talk about all the money they had in the bank and all the great sex they were having.  Okay, okay, I didn't know that's what they were saying, but that's what I believed for a minute, standing there, sweaty, my lower back singing, dirty rag in hand.  I thought about what AA says about humility, and being a worker among workers.  "Fuck that," I thought. "I want to be them."  I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face and thought about how I always want the result without the process.  I want the body without going to the gym.  I want savings without being frugal.  While that's maybe being a little bit hard on myself, it's also not too far off the mark.  I said a prayer, which started with, "Fuck you, God" but ended with "help and thank you and help -- no really, help."

At the end of the day I sat in the tiny office with my new boss, almost knee-to-knee.  I like this gal.  She's smart and an excellent manager and quirky and funny and very professional.  I can see why the people at the top of this new company picked her to run this restaurant for them.  She's training me to do her job at a new location, and if I can learn it fast enough and well enough, it's a great chance with a smart little company poised to really expand.  Every time I think/type/say that a little voice in my head mutters about being too old or that I had to shave my beard or not wanting to work in this industry.  I tell the voice to shut up now, or I shout "God! God! God!" in my head over and over.  Till it goes away.  I suppose there's nothing very spiritual about that -- you could "shout" any word in your head to try and redirect your thinking, but that one works for me.

I was working hard to listen to her, pay attention, learn more, while also trying to show I was paying attention and trying to learn.

She squinted and looked into space for a minute, then sucked air in between her teeth.  "Gosh, I really don't want to have this part of the conversation."

I waited.

"So... have they talked to you about your weight?"

I smiled brightly and cocked my head to the side, like the little dog in the RCA Victor ads.  "My... weight?"  I asked.  Smiling brightly and cocking my head is some kind of thing I do when I'm not sure I understood what someone just said, and what I think they said is too much to take in.

"Yes... your weight.  You know, part of what this company is about is wholesome food.  A healthy appearance."

I kept smiling.

"And, you know, when Big Boss was talking to me about you, he said, 'You know him, he's a customer.  He's... he's a big guy, but...' and then he paused, 'he carries his weight well.'"

"Well," smile smile smile, "actually no, he didn't mention it.  And it's not like I wore a girdle to the interview.  I could have, but I wouldn't bring up my need to wear ladies undergarments at work until after a few months had gone by..."  smiling smiling smiling, head cocked to such a degree I might have cracked a vertebrae.

"I told him that I would lose huge, huge respect for this company if we let a valuable, talented candidate get away because of an issue like that..."

Basically, she's cool and she was just trying to let me know that it's a small company and the big bosses are obsessive about... every aspect.  She shared how they gave her a hard time about her hair and make-up once -- in an effort to show that her opinion was that they were a little off-base.

I took a deep breath.  "Well, I guess on the one hand, I believe a company has the right to brand themselves a certain way.  You don't have a lot of three hundred pound people selling Diet Coke or working at the front desk of a health club... but..." I shrugged "I am how I am.  I'm bigger than I like right now, but... gosh, I guess I don't know what else to say."  My smile seemed to have puttered out.

"I just thought you should know that there's not one thing they don't have meetings about or discuss."

People are sitting around an office somewhere, talking about my weight?  I thought.   This thought was immediately followed by two, simultaneous reactions:

1. Fuck them.

2. Cool! People are talking about me!

 

At the end of a hard day, the very, very last thing I needed was to hear... that.

 

It was a long walk home.  For the first several blocks I thought about how what had happened, when I got sober at 24, was that I had fallen in with a cult.  AA was a cult, and if I hadn't been so busy trying to be a worker among workers and sponsoring and stuff, I'd have maybe made different decisions in my life.  Yeah, fuck AA.  And fuck my sponsor, too.  And fuck all my sponsees, I'm sick of hearing their shit.

A few blocks later I passed a guy in a doorway.  He had one leg, and it's cold here now.  A lot of people think some homeless people are faking, but I don't know you can fake a missing leg, or shivering.  I fished in my pocket and gave him a dollar which, frankly, I could ill afford to give away right now.

A block past him I thought what a rotten, miserable world it is.  I thought about the AA guy I used to sponsor who hung himself a couple of weeks ago.  I thought about one of the other guys I sponsor who just relapsed, and while he's back and sober right now just has a helluva time of it.  I thought about me, fat and nearly fifty, cleaning refrigerators, and what a freakish loser I must look like to all those kids at the restaurant.  What a shitty world.  "Guess I should have made better decisions... most of 'em didn't look so bad at the time..." I thought to myself.

And then I thought -- as I often seem to at points like that, when circumstances around me and my own sadness and regret and self pity (three different emotions, by the way) lead me to conclude that this miserable ball of mud hanging in the dark is doomed -- and that we deserve that doom -- about Marian Fisher.

Marian Fisher was one of the Amish girls shot in that little schoolhouse in 2006 when that crazed gunman went in and took a class hostage.  For some reason, whenever I think about that horrific tragedy, I don't think about the gunman, and what he did, so much as I think about Marian, and what she did instead.  By all accounts from the survivors, when it became clear that this madman was going to murder, Marian, little 13 year old Marian Fisher, stepped forward, and said, "Shoot me first, and leave these little ones be."  Now, she'd never seen "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or read a "Wonder Woman" comic book -- she was Amish, for God's sake.  She was motivated purely by her faith, and her own, innate, selfless goodness.  Whenever I think of her I shame myself for thinking that a world in which such a spirit could exist is doomed, or deserves its doom.

I was exhausted and overwrought and must have been a sorry sight, walking along the city street with tears on my cheeks, thinking about my sad, bratty temper tantrums against that poor guy with one leg or Marian Fisher.

It's not a device, this thinking of her, which I choose to use when I'm at my lowest ebb.  Thinking about her just comes to me -- ever since I read that story almost five years ago.

This will be hard and, frankly, I'm not sure I'll be able to do it.  Yeah, yeah, all I have to do is try my best, but what I'd really rather do is call my new boss and say I have a family emergency or a dire illness or got a better offer and I have to quit... I don't want to go back there and think about a CEO talking about whether I'm too fat, or what the adorable 24 year old girl standing next to me at the food window is thinking about how a man twice her age came to be standing there next to her.

I don't want to go to AA I don't want to be of service I want to tell everything and all of it to fuck off.

____________________

Just in case you think God doesn't have a sense of humor, the sponsee who relapsed and is back just called me as I typed that, and I spent a half hour on the phone talking to him about how we can shore up his Program while we find an in-patient recovery situation for him.

You think you're so funny, God.

________________

So these next few months are going to be hard.  A whole new round of ego smashing.  Brutal mirrors to see how I try to avoid taking responsibility for things.  Resentment and entitlement will probably be cropping up a lot.

Oh, yeah, and then there's the genius Brazillian swimsuit model I'll get to work alongside.  You will, I hope, understand if I say I am not looking forward to the inevitable, literally side-by-side comparison.

I talked to my sponsor tonight, and most of what he said was crap (sorry, but that's how I felt), but he said one thing that really helped, which was that I'm willing and I'm showing up and praying and I'm not self-destructing one day at a time, and that's a Big Win -- and I've been a sponsor myself long enough to know that when someone's in the shits, if you can at least find one thing to say which is helpful to them, then you did your job, and if the rest doesn't resonate, that's how it goes sometimes.

I wish I had a better example of recovery to share in this venue now.  Which may sound like a self-serving, passive/aggressive type thing to say, but no, I really mean it.  I wish I was... not so childish, not so prone to these storms of self pity today.  Against the greater scheme of things I should just be damn grateful to have a job and that should be that.

But sometimes we carry the mess, and sometimes we carry the message, and sometimes doing the former is doing the latter.

I have to iron my shirt before I go to bed, so all I can leave you with is this:

The world is not only not doomed, it has enough light in it for one overweight, out of shape, freaked out, entitled alcoholic to use what AA has taught him to keep showing up and ignore his head, and say yes to a great opportunity even though half the time he's an ungrateful brat -- and if there's enough light for that to happen, if AA can help a wretched mess like me get through the day... then there is absolutely nothing facing any alcoholic which we can't get through for just that day.

Odds are, one of you out there reading this is as much of a freaked out self entitled ungrateful brat as I am, as overwhelmed and overwrought by what you have to face as I. 

So here's the deal:

You don't lie, and bail, or drink or use or kill yourself -- just get through the day with as much dignity and grace as you can muster -- and I'll do the same.

And together we'll manage to log one more sober 24 hours, and maybe a little more recovery in spite of ourselves.

Deal?

Ok.

Meet you back here tomorrow.

 

 

Comments

[MB]

I just want you to know that there a lot more people following your writing -- and deriving immense help and sustenance from it -- than you would suspect. We don't leave comments because we don't have much to say. But we learn from your words and we're in your corner. The world is bigger than those corporate guys in a room somewhere.

[daisymay]

Deal MrSP. Thanks for sharing this. It is a lot more help than a load of stuff about 'how I got sober/found God and me and my life have been perfect ever sinceand everyone wishes they were me'

I have two words for you

Slimming World.

http://www.slimmingworldusa.com/

It is the best eating programme ever. You can eat as much as you want of all sorts of things most diets restrict or ban. It is very healthy.

I thought of TS Eliot (Four Quartets) when I read your post "And the end of our exploring shall be to find ourselves at the beginning and know the place for the first time" Something like that.

You can do this. Looking forward to reading all about it.

PS If you publish your book as an ebook and sell it here I will buy it.

[shanachie]

Hey SP. Your post dislodged a few unconnected thoughts this morning. The first being ... if you're that unhappy on the second day, maybe you should keep looking for another job. I'm not sure about American labour laws, but if a manager broached an employees appearance/weight subject here, it would be grounds for harassment and discrimination. An employee's appearance has no bearing on their ability to do the job.
And that aside, I totally get you. I'm overweight, and I study part time at a university. I'm ALWAYS the oldest fattest person in the room and some days I can't even hear the lecture because of the one in my head. Other days, I think what a guy we called Screamin' Joe used to say, "F*ck what other people think!"
My answer for my predicament is that I joined Weight Watchers last night. My internal dialogue is brutal ... but I'm taking action.
Feel for you. But don't let corporate bastards grind you down. (((HUGS)))

[Jeri Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ]

I kinda remember you sayin'..

"If you want to treat the anger first find the fear"

That ONE line really helped me.

[Meribeth]

Love ya Mr.SP. The magic of sharing worked its wonders again. Your post was a cortisone cream for the itch I have had. I know the crap you are going through is a major fuck it all for you and it's tough. I'm pulling for you. A great big cyber HUG!

[Syd]

Mr. S.P., this post moved me to tears. I know the feelings you describe, even though I am neither overweight or alcoholic. I do however have a thinking problem in which for many years, and still from time to time, don't think that I measure up. God has a sense of timing though. Opportunities present that leave me thinking that I am okay just the way I am. Then, God will also give me a huge dose of humility on another day.

Every year, the people around me get younger and smarter. But this middle age dog still has a few tricks. Experience in life, your experience, matters. You have seen it all, have helped people who were beyond help, have written brilliantly here. I have a feeling that the youngsters will be coming to you for your help. Keep a steady course and you will sail into the safe harbor that your Higher Power has provided.

[Brent Pulford]

As I verge on six months clean and sober I am facing the dreaded job search. When drinking and using I pulled down a healthy six figures and was, for a time, a respected and oft admired senior practitioner in my field. But I became difficult to work with, unreliable, arrogant and defiant. I not only lost my job but everything I owned. Today I find myself needing money and a means by which to earn it. For the first time in 30 years, I am humbled by my circumstances; humiliated really. I can't face trying to get back into the business I was in before; trying to mend fences and negotiate burnt bridges. Nor do I believe I should have to. But I need work. Any kind of work. So I understand your conflict. It's mine that isn't making any sense - if that makes any sense.

[carolf]

Mr. SP. Your honesty is astonishing and comforting and inspiring. You may wish to be the spin class members having good sex and big bank accounts, but I could wish to be you. But I'm working hard at wishing to be my best self. Thank you for this post. And THANK YOU especially for all your work on this blog. You can't ever know how much it has helped me. My positive energy is with you and since I have no idea where you are or who you are, I have great compassion for every restaurant person I see, especially those of a certain age, size and girth. You da best, man. Really.

[Peggy]

I have been reading not commenting for many months. I am very thankful for your brutal honesty about your struggles. Sharing not isolating keeps me moving in a healthy direction.

[Hummingbird]

Right there with ya, Mr. SP. I'm a 50 something, "big girl", and have been working from home for the last two years. The great part is that I can wear sweats and no one will care. Bad part is there's been quite a bit of spread. Considering that I have to do some face time with clients this month, I'm now in a bit of a pickle. None of my suits fit and sweats won't be appropriate! But I am grateful that my HP has sent me work that requires me to spruce up, because left to my own devices, I would likely turn into the Blob and never leave the house. I guess it's not mine to understand where my HP takes me. I'm just going along for the ride and trying to do my part. Headed to the store for salad.....and counting my blessings.

[Orbus]

MrSP - I agree with Syd " I have a feeling that the youngsters will be coming to you for your help. Keep a steady course and you will sail into the safe harbor that your Higher Power has provided." Thank you for being you. I know you and love you.
Orbus

[daisymay]

"a valuable, talented candidate"

Hang onto to that Mr SP, you beat the competition hands down, weight, age and all.

As for the rest, what is it you say? - 'work in progress'?

[RL]

Mr SP~
Thank you for your honesty, thank you for sharing & thank you for making me see things in perspective, today & alot of times. Marian Fisher. Wow. Thank you.

[Debbie G.]

Thanks so much for sharing exactly where you are in this post. Yesterday's reading in the Daily Reflections was titled "Begin Where You Are" - and I have to remember that - especially when where I am is a big hot mess and definitely not where I want to be. Am struggling with not being able to turn my head off today and I sat in a 7AM meeting and thought - "Damn, am I still this crazy after all these years?" I had my last drink at 21 and I will be 50 this year and like you shared - sometimes the mess is carrying the message. Count me in for the deal at the bottom of your post - I'll stay sober just for today and I'm counting on the fact that you will too. I need you (and the rest of AA) - I definitely can't do it on my own. Thanks for being here.

[anon]

Best. Blog post. Ever. Love you and you are not alone. Change a few deets & you are talking about me. Keep writing! Even Carver's day job was in a factory!

[bob]

I'm 55 and 6'3" and 300lbs-If you were Brazilian you would really have me. I'm also not an insightful, honest, engaging, inspiring, generous, creative writer. I hope you have some electronic way of knowing how many people read this blog. I'm another one who reads every day but doesn't comment. Thank you for the blog, it means a lot to me. Oh-Yea, I still have my beard JK.

[Smiley]

Deal!

[dAAve]

Thanks for living sober.

[Sam]

Needed to read this! Thank you for being here.

[Roxie]

Long time reader, first time poster. Thank you for this post. Thank you.

[Jeff]

Mr. SP, you are my Hero!

[Guinevere]

It was good for me to read this post...

You help so many people. You must know that. Can't count how many times I myself have quoted Mr. Sponsorpants on my own blog. I quote you to sponsees. ("If you don't drink or use and you don't kill yourself by the end of the day, you win, and the rest will just have to sort itself out") Wish I had a better name for you, but there it is.

Ego-smashing bites all right.

A thought: If this job really is HP's will for you at this time, maybe HP's will for you is to look at your weight and consider the benefits of losing a few pounds. You're my age... not the greatest to carry that much into the next decade. I mean, I dunno? ... The whole spa-thing is about vanity, which is bullshit, but weight is a serious health concern and I wanna be hearing about you for a long time. --G

[David H.]

Thank you so much for your time.

[www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=613397883]

Dear Mr SP
I always read, never comment, but TODAY I am overwhelmed. Thanks for the gut level sharing and reflection on solution. We've got your back....and yes, its a deal.

[angharad]

mr sponsorpants, you are the business! i read your blog avidly. there is another side to this issue; my friend has an apron that says: 'never trust a skinny cook'...

[visi]

From a longtime daily reader, congratulations on landing a promising position in this economy. I struggle with many, no, all of the issues you do. I think you are brilliant, insightful, brave and crushingly funny. And hawt. (OK, a little cyber crush going on here)

I know a lot of people see you as a guru (me included, obvi). I think that the qualities that make you a great sponsor will make you a great manager (of people, not food) and a great role model for the 'new kids.'

I think you wrote something about not comparing your insides to others' outsides. Who knows what indignities and dysfunction the kids at corporate are subject to?

Let's just keep on doing what we gotta do to have the New Year and new life we deserve: sober, solvent and healthy.

Thanks for all you do and all you are. See ya tomorrow.

[Barb K]

Deal!!

[recovering jezebel]

I felt every word you wrote as if I were right there, having it happen to me. That, my friend, is indeed your gift. And I can so identify with the experience of telling the universe sternly, okay, not one more thing, this is all I can handle—and then having the one-more-thing fall plop into your lap.

You hang in there. We'll be right here, hanging in there too. <3

[conanon]

Dear Mr. Sponsorpants-
I have been reading your blog since it was shared with me in November. I am a member of Overeaters Anonymous, and I thank you for helping me stay abstinent for almost eight weeks now. Walking around almost twenty pounds lighter is wonderful, but having a much quieter and peaceful head is the true gift.
May God bless your steps as you trudge your road to happy destiny.
Sincerely,
A fellow freaked out self-entitled ungrateful brat

[Let Go, Let God]

See you tomorrow...again. Beautiful today. Thank you.

[The Department of Unsolicited Advice]

That sounds really hard. I can relate to having to cling to something positive, even when facing what seems an insuperable situation. At least it sounds as though that manager is in your corner. I would expect that your diligence and people skills will make you a success with this opportunity.

Now for a suggestion (not that you asked for one). Since you shared that you would like to lose some weight (albeit not to svelte Brazilian model standards), and the company wants to promote a healthy image, shouldn't the company be willing to invest in a promising employee's health (to the tune of dietary assistance, gym membership, personal training, or whatever would work for YOU)?

Keep on fighting the good fight, one day at a time!

[Belle in the upper midwest]

Hi Mr. SP:
I lurk in the shadows and read your works sporadically. I love them. I too am tall, near age 50, sober 23 years, going back into the workaday world after going to college as a nontraditional student, and have an ongoing battle of the bulge. I have felt all the same crap you have so eloquently described in this post. It's like the needle on my fun meter going from zero to pegged out, like a windshield wiper, and not stopping anywhere midway where there might be (gasp!) balance. I need to remember a few things that the lady who took me to my first AA meeting told me, which help whenever I am getting either too full of myself or the world. They are: "Never forget your last drunk." "Is it life altering, life threatening, or just plain bullshit?" and "Keep puttin' one foot in front of the other and suckin' air." That, and remembering always that God is in charge. I wish you well in your one days at a time ahead.

[kelly]

Oh my gosh. I thought I was the only one that screamed 'God!' in my head, as loud as I can, to chase away the bad thoughts.

I really liked this post. It was a great share. I'm glad you have a job and I'm glad you aren't a Brazilian underwear model.

[Moi]

Dear Mr SP,

Like many here, I often read and never comment, but that has to change right now. You are my hero for being so honest, so kind and so funny, day after day, and you help keep me sober and often make me laugh and make me think. Thank you so much for writing the blog, and being the person who writes the blog.

[RJ]

I'm sorry you're having such a difficult time, but I'm very grateful for this post. It really hit home and I'm going to share it with my husband. I can see lots of him in your writings. He's a good man and I hope he is as inspired by you as I am!

[Jessie R.]

Damn it!

"Odds are one of you out there reading this is as much of a freaked out self entitled ungrateful brat as I am, as overwhelmed and overwrought by what you have to face as I."

YUP! YUP! YUP!

I'm in the job I've had for 5 years, I'm out of ideas, I feel ineffective and disconnected, the organization has been in a continual flux since the last executive director (my boss) left over a year ago, and the outlook at the organization miraculously committing to strategic planning or providing any form of concrete foundation or direction and leadership is grim. Well we do have an interim who is performing 3 jobs simultaneously which from my perspective looks like a baboon on crack trying to make things happen through constant meetings with hundreds of people with no real fruit and an absolute disinterest in the daily processes of the actual office and employees she's charged with leading and directing. But we get to have regular meetings to hear her next great idea for how to make it all bigger and better, and my coworkers enter my office regularly to tell me how overwhelmed they are and how they're having trouble keeping up. I can keep up, I just don't have any enthusiasm to try. I do the best I can to help coworkers, to be of service to customers and guests, to provide the stuff needed in my job but I know, I'm well aware when I am apathetic. A

Apathy is absence..a lack of... stagnation. I'm a bright girl, I know this is NOT good!

I'm .... hopeless, miserable and I don't even know where to start.

The program of AA is ingrained in me, it is, I hear all the right words and all the right things to do bouncing in my head. Problem is, my heart's not in it, and for me... misery and a head full of AA without a heart felt knowledge of God's peace and protection. That feeling of disconnection. What's the word? Dangerous!

All the "glad others are out there feeling it too" doesn't really connect me.

And I don't know what to do (not really finding direction in my sponsor's reflections and honest chats there) Other than act your way into right thinking

I remember and take the direction I was given at the very beginning as God was (so obviously to my sponsor but not to me) pushing me to my knees in desperation here in AA.

"Whatever God!"

And everything that comes next, scary as that looks in my head right now, is EXACTLY what God needs to provide me with in experience to help me to once again connect with that amazing serenity and power that is "the spiritual experience" as a result of... finding recovery from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body.

Here we are again, sober and in need of that recovery from the seemingly hopeless; without believing it will help one bit, willing to say, "you are not alone!"

I will pray desperately for you to be transformed, because I know I HATE this feeling and I can't get out without prayer and God's intervention. And honest to God I need to know that someone who affects me as powerfully as you do can be transformed again, NOW!

Hopeless, powerless and the brilliant ideas and inspirations in my head all seem like crap right now.

Crap, crap, crap!

[Jessie R.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoNEJyuWhUI

That's the song that came into my head just as I posted that.

Is it true? Anywhere, will I follow God at all costs? Will I go to any lengths?

[mollyell50]

You are amazing. Hang in there. There is nothing that some Brazilian guy has on you. You have heart and soul and that is all that matters. Plus the first couple of days at any job are really hard and disorienting (I just went through it myself) like "who are all these people and why do they hate me?'

[Mary LA]

A wonderful post, I feel I met you for the first time. We've all had to start over and have crappy first days and I can identify so much with what you are describing.

[tlc]

Thank you so much for your rigorous honesty. It was a "rough day" - more so than some, not as much as others - as you noted.

Awareness, acceptance, and action . . . I don't get very far as I stumble and sputter on the awareness and acceptance, honesty and humility. If I do try to pull my covers it is usually with the bat of self loathing, the dagger of the victim/martyr or the shield of ego and judgment. None of those reveal the truth as long as I stay in them and refuse to step outside and call them what they are.

Thank you for the WONDERFUL example of self awareness, the honesty, the discomfort, the ego. Being able to say "There I am feeling not worthy, there I am feeling the victim, there I am feeling better than - sometimes all the same breath, and that is OK." Then showing us by example how you use the principles to walk through it and GROW.

You can grab a book and show me over and over how I should apply these principles in my life - but until you SHOW me how it works - I am not going to get it.

YOU ARE HELPING ME GET IT.

Thank you.

[Just Me]

Wow, that's gut-level, raw honesty right there. You rock, Mr. SP, and that's all I've got to say. I believe in you and I know you can do this! Perhaps you are in this job so that one of the 20-somethings desperately needing guidance can learn something from your hard-won wisdom?

[Subversive Librarian]

Oh, Mr. SP... Thanks so much for your post. The people who help me most are the ones who share where they're at right this minute -- not the ones that share their most recent good moment.

I'm right there with you. After a long period of putting a person ahead of my recovery, I had gained 120 pounds (I'm only 5' 1" and weighed 245). I was unemployable, uninsurable, and that weight brought with it many, many little daily humiliations.

I'm a newcomer in recovery from food-addiction (working on a 6-month chip); I ended up going to OA, after much resistance, as well as to a commercial weight loss program. The food thing is very, very tough. But your share really helped me today. I can stay sober and "abstinent" for one more day, thanks to you. I appreciated in particular your deal at the end; I've had some pretty dark thoughts lately so your words jumped out at me. Thank you. And it's a deal. x

[HCG Drops]

I have known great bloggers and the one thing that distinguish them from other bloggers are their abilities to catch reader's attention. This, you're able to do effectively. Nice post!