I've been following the Weight Watchers program since before Christmas, with incremental success. I'm a few pounds away from that pile of skinny jeans in my closet, though what I'm calling my "skinny jeans" were very likely my "chubby jeans" just a few years ago. C'est la vie.

I am appreciating the daily accountability of my little food app and I will say that I am a sucker for structure, which I believe is a big part of why I connected with AA on a visceral level - there are instructions! The 12 Steps! I have an illness. There is a way out. What a relief.

What I'm noticing with adhering to an eating plan are my food triggers: boredom, sitting down at the computer to work or write, festive or social times when others are eating, for example. The benefit of having a plan that is working for me at the moment, is that it allows the emotional space to ask what I really need. Am I truly, actually physically hungry? Will it kill me to wait until mealtime?

This current experience with food is making me think of other triggers for other behaviors, as in using/drinking/acting out. I've been very fortunate in that I've never had to fight the urge to drink or use. What was once a "have to" became an "I don't want to" fairly early in the process (& for that I am eternally grateful). The times I've had more than a passing thought about getting high are few enough that I remember them clearly: at 90 days when my after-care peers were having "learning experience" slips; when I was told that the final batch of my deceased meth cook boyfriend's speed was available and did I want some; when a guy canceled a date last minute which coincided with an old gal pal calling to invite me out to the bars; the time I spilled my mom's liquid morphine onto my hand. But, even these urges were not compulsions - more like "oh man, I'd love to (fill in the blank)."

The urge to rip & run, however that is defined in the moment, is a little more slippery. Back in the day, when Starbucks was merely a lone venue in Pike's Market, Portland had one brand new espresso shop and we were all turning on to iced mocha's and variations of sweet and potent drinks. Once I'd tried that magic elixir, I found myself driving to work in Vancouver, WA from NE Portland via downtown and that coffee shop. Should I have changed my recovery date as a stimulant addict? Maybe. Didn't.

Romance tends to be a triggering event. I'm great at middles. Beginnings and endings, not so much. As a sponsee once said, "Getting into a relationship triggers my mental health issues." Oh yeah. Even the ones that aren't there. Those triggers tend to make me want to jump on a motorcycle and head cross country. Never mind that I've never been on a motorcycle. OK, maybe once, but the point is that when I'm emotionally triggered, my first thought is usually an adrenaline fueled urge to drive fast, get out of town, move. Or maybe a brand new relationship would do the trick? The trick of distraction, maybe, but that never worked for long.  

Triggers show up with an intensity dependent on my frame of mind. Sometimes a side remark means nothing. Other times, it can cut to the quick. At times, I see a mother and daughter and think, "How nice," while at others, I'm nearly on the floor with missing my mom. I find that the "daily reprieve" doesn't only apply to abstinence from substances. I also get a daily reprieve from myself and my sometimes highly charged emotions, as long as I make the effort to stay grounded.

What I've learned over time is that I will get triggered. I used to think that if I were doing everything just right, I wouldn't get angry or hurt or sad ever again. Silly me. What I've learned is that while I will get triggered, my response to those moments is within my control. I'm powerless over my first thought, but not my second. Will I throw lighter fuel on my trigger, playing the scene over and over again, having conversations with people who aren't even in the room? Will I cave and grab that cookie without so much as a pause? Will I snap at someone because something said made me feel like an errant 6 year old? Maybe, but today I truly do have choices.

I am far from perfect. Sometimes I do eat that extra slice of pizza. Sometimes I do metaphorically retreat under the covers, try to fix myself, speak without thinking. And, I usually recognize it before someone has to point it out to me. There's no better cure for acting out than the thought of making an amends! That foresight muscle truly does get stronger with use.

Making an effort to change behavior, whether related to food or otherwise, leads to introspection, a shift in view, and opportunity to inventory. Can working the Steps be helpful in this situation? What am I powerless over here? How can I practice the principles in all my affairs?

As January gives way to February, I begin to think of Step Two and the return to sanity. Thank goodness we don't need to live in the hopelessness of Step One. Powerlessness, while a relief of sorts, generally sucks. And, moving forward brings hope, whether I'm newly sober or stacking up the decades.  As I plug in numbers for my healthy fish dinner, I will pause and give thanks - that I have enough to eat, that I know where I will safely sleep tonight, that I have a program that applies to all areas of my life, if I so choose.  Happy Wednesday, people. Thank you for coming along on the ride.