Take as Needed

In our readings and in many other ways we are told, “Once we compulsive overeaters truly take the Third Step, we cannot fail to recover” (The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous, p. 27). That’s quite a promise.

When I was a newcomer, and again during my horrible three-year relapse, when I gained 60 pounds (27 kg) and a lot of misery and ill-health, I found myself saying, “Why am I eating this? I said the Third Step Prayer this morning!”

Now, ten years out of relapse and 55 pounds (25 kg) down, I finally see that saying the Third Step and taking the Third Step are two entirely different things. Turning my will and my life and my food over to HP—actually doing it—is, for me, the crux of the program and the secret to abstinence one day at a time.

There are times when I take the Third Step and find that eating outside of my plan is not an option. I find myself willingly, automatically ordering and eating in a way that supports my recovery. I’m in a neutral place with food. And then some days, wham! Cravings hit me: “I gotta buy that bag or eat that square—now!” Then I think, “Hey—didn’t I say the dang prayer just this morning? Yet now my disease is upon me?”

That’s when I have to take the Third Step. Truly take it. Again.

For me, taking the Third Step is like taking medicine (on medicine’s terms), but with one difference: I don’t know how long I can go before I’ll need another dose. Step Three I take as needed. I take one dose in the morning. Then, if the little bags start calling to me at the grocery store checkout, if the drive-through seems like a sensible lunch choice, or if I want another handful of whatever, I know I need another dose—stat! Those kinds of urges are a sign I need another “god shot,” another surrender; I need to use a Tool. I need to take the Third Step. Again.

I am an addict. My first reaction is to take an impulse as a command. The impulse to eat can get in my head and get bigger and bigger until I feel like I have to give in. But I can choose to take the medicine. I can take the Third Step again and back it up with action: a Tool, a prayer, a sincere request to God that says, “Please give me willingness and ability to do your will, not my disease’s will.”

Today, after twenty-four years in OA, I finally understand what it means to truly take the Third Step. It means I am willing to take it over and over, as needed to prevent a relapse, one day at a time.

—Margie P., Hull, Massachusetts USA