My binge addiction is like a teenager who parties when the parents are away for the weekend. You know how it goes, the parents leave and say, “Now, don’t have a bunch of people over and absolutely NO PARTIES.” And the teenager says, “I know. I won’t. Gosh, don’t you trust me?”

So, the parents leave (thinking they’ll have to learn to trust their teenager eventually) and the kid is thinking, “OMG, I thought they’d NEVER leave. Now, let me send a Facebook Group Invitation to all 1500 of my closest friends…”

What happens while the parents are away is not pretty and definitely does not fall under the heading of “good, clean fun.”

Nope, when the parents return (early, usually) they are met with a scene straight out of Animal House: There are pizza boxes strewn everywhere, Doritos crunched into the carpet, and those red plastic “SOLO” cups with stale beer on every piece of furniture in sight. There are bottles of flat Coke, empty chip bags and paper plates with orange grease spots on them.

OH. MY. GOD. WHAT. HAPPENED. HERE???!!!

One thing is certain: The parents were not at home when the eating orgy ensued, and they DEFINITELY did not get to ‘enjoy’ the festivities…BUT, THEY WILL HAVE TO CLEAN UP AFTER IT.

I know, I know…fellow parents are out there saying, “Oh no. I’M not cleaning ANYTHING up. My KID is gonna to do THAT.” But, we all know that the kid is passed out on the futon in the den, and besides, he’ll deny everything, blame everyone, and do a lousy job of putting things back in order.

But, that’s not all: That antique that’s been in the family for generations? Broken. And the couch cushions? Torn. The carpet? Stained. Nothing is going to be the way it was…but it has to be returned to some semblance of order.

So, why am I telling you about a “party-while-the-parents-are-away” weekend? Because my stubbornly recalcitrant binge addiction is a lot like that teenager: IT WANTS TO PARTY EVEN THOUGH I TELL IT NOT TO.

Guess who gets to “come home” to home to the carnage?

Guess who gets to stumble across chalk outlines (where the box of Zingers WAS), clean Oreo cookie crumbs off the counter, and tear down the yellow police tape blocking the refrigerator door?

You guessed it: ME.

Bingeing gets the party and I get the hangover.

My Party-Girl-Binger wants me to believe we’ve had good times – BUT WE HAVEN’T AND THE PARTY IS OVER. The bingeing teenager is officially GROUNDED, and it’s time for the adult to hire a “house sitter” (more like a therapist, trained in addiction and recovery), clear out the pantry, and get back to an OA meeting.

Can anyone else relate?

My grandpa (step-grandpa, actually, but the only one I ever knew) was an alcoholic. When he died, he had 23 years sober and was sponsor to many people whose lives were forever changed by his support and the 12-step program.

Growing up, I never really understood what was such a big deal about it. I mean, he had a fully stocked liquor cabinet above the refrigerator, and he loved to serve drinks to his guests. Heck, he always asked me if *I* wanted a drink (and I was only 10). Well, one day, I said “Sure!” and he proceeded to make me the worst (and probably strongest) “7 and 7″ ever poured. I thought I would love it (after all, it did have 7-Up in it), but BOY, was I wrong. I took about one drink and then played with it for the rest of the afternoon, fearing I would hurt his feelings if I didn’t finish it. The thought of another swig made me sick to my stomach, and I eventually — nonchalantly — poured it down the drain.

More power to my grandpa: I got the message about alcohol: It is yucky.

But, I didn’t understand the full magnitude of his message. I didn’t realize that addictions come in all shapes and sizes — not just in glasses of booze and soda. He had bumper stickers on his car (you know, the shiny, rainbow foil ones) that said, “One Day at a Time” and “Easy Does It”, he had the 12-Steps posted in his bedroom, and the Serenity Prayer enshrined in the bathroom. He lived his sobriety every day. But I just didn’t get it. Perhaps he made it look too easy.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t get it when I became a full-blown food addict. It was easy to ignore, because I was a “functional addict” — you know, like those alcoholics who show up at work every day and lead seemingly normal lives? Only, I was obese, and the entire world could see that I had some “sort of problem.” Unfortunately, most people (like myself) called it a “character flaw”, rather than a “disease,” which meant that I was a bad, bad person, and not a person with a treatable condition.

It is important to understand that my addiction didn’t evolve in a vacuum. It didn’t happen overnight, and I didn’t just ‘cotton’ to the lifestyle without some encouragement from people who loved me. They didn’t realize, of course, that they were loving me to death, because they were sick themselves. That can be a tough pill to swallow, and it can hinder your recovery. After all, it’s much easier to blame someone else for CAUSING you to become an addict, than it is to believe that you are responsible for your own actions and choices.

All I can say is, Thank GOD for bariatric surgery and my desire to find a “cure” for my disease. Gastric Bypass gave me the tool; therapy and the support of others gave me the knowledge; God gave me the courage.

As good as that all sounds, I am still NOT THERE yet. I am NOT in recovery. I flirt with it. I “try” to do it. But each time, I yield — just a little — and the whole process starts over.

Well, in light of certain situations in my life, I have been forced to turn the mirror on myself like I haven’t done in my entire life. Fortunately, I am not disgusted or angry with my reflection, nor am I disappointed or unhappy. The weird thing is, for probably the first time in 44 years, I understand that recovery is a choice that I must make EVERY DAY. Recovery will (drumroll please): ONE DAY AT A TIME.

You know those little key rings that say “1-year”? — That is 365 DAYS of sobriety; 365 days of recovery. That is NOT “one year.” And that is the point I have to remember. One year DOES happen one day at time, and one day, DOES happen one moment at a time. I can make good choices ONE moment at a time.

So, today I decided to begin my recovery. My goal is 1 day. That’s all. Over the course of the next 15 hours (or whatever it turns out that I am awake), I will choose SOBRIETY. I will choose to be healthy and I will choose to say no to my binge addiction.

I will not focus on tomorrow, as that would be too scary. I will focus on NOW. So far, I’ve got 4 hours sober, and it feels pretty good.

Easy Does It. I’ve got plenty of time to get this right.