Am I working the steps if I’m not working the steps?

Hi everyone, I’m a compulsive overeater and food addict. I’ve been in OA for about six years, and during that time I’ve gone through all the steps more than once. I’m not cured, and lately I’ve been feeling anxiety crop up—that’s my reminder that it might be time to do another step study. 
 
Recovery hasn’t made me immune from fear, sadness, or pain. Life still shows up. But what OA gives me is a way to notice when those feelings start to take over and, instead of turning to food, use the tools of recovery. Writing and service are two of those tools.
 
Writing helps me make sense of my feelings and behaviors in a way that thinking or even talking sometimes doesn’t. I blog, and I also text fellows every morning to share my thoughts, feelings, fears, and to admit my mistakes. Sharing my blog is one way I practice service—by carrying the message of experience, strength, and hope. I’m not an expert, but I know how much it helps me when others share honestly, so I do the same. For me, it’s a way of paying it forward and keeping recovery alive.
 
This morning, after I did my prayers, I recognized that I needed to turn to writing and to be honest with myself. I need to work the steps every day—not just when it’s convenient to me.
 
Early on, I resisted this idea. I wanted to “graduate,” be cured, and move on. That thinking kept me stuck for years, falling in and out of abstinence and wondering why recovery wasn’t working for me. The truth was, I wasn’t being honest with myself and wasn’t fully working the program.
 
What I’ve learned now is that recovery is straightforward, but not easy. It takes time, effort, and willingness—like going to the gym. You don’t get fit after one workout, and the first weeks can be painful. But if you keep showing up, the results come. There’s no shortcut. 
 
I sometimes feel sad knowing I’ll never be cured of this disease. But I also know I can manage it, and that gives my life purpose and direction—something I didn’t have before. This program is like my daily medicine. If I stop taking it, I slip back into compulsive overeating, weight gain, and my relationships suffer. Quickly, my life becomes unmanageable. I don’t want to go back there, and that’s what keeps me in the program.
 
I may never say I’m “recovered,” but I can say that I am recovering—and that the promises come true for me when I work the steps each day. For that, I’m grateful.

"If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves. Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us — sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them." - The Promises (Alcoholics Anonymous, Fourth Edition, p.83-84)