Preface pages xi to xv:
The first two pages describe the changes which have been made in the different editions of the big book.
Foreword to First Edition
"Many do not comprehend that the [compulsive overeater] is a very sick person." - xiii
I first went to Overeater's Anonymous because a family friend acknowledged that she had a problem and needed help, but was too afraid to go by herself. I didn't believe that I had a problem. In fact, I thought that my attendance at that meeting was going to be a huge waste of my time. I patiently met the new member greeter, sat through the first part of the meeting, and then quietly listened as the speaker blew me away.
She was a woman in her fifties who sat there and told my story. It was bizarre hearing about my compulsive and interfering mother, my closet eating, my feelings of shame and guilt and worthlessness, my focus on education to make up for my failure at maintaining a normal weight. This woman could have spent the last twenty-seven years of her life watching through my windows.
And then it hit me with a sickening thud. These were my people. I didn't want them to be my people. I didn't want to have a problem. But I walked up to that woman and asked her to be my sponsor that day and left that meeting with the understanding that I belonged in overeaters anonymous. I started an abstinence program the next day and stayed abstinent until I got pregnant.
I had a difficult pregnancy and although soda was on my abstinence, it was the only fluid that would stay in my stomach. I was too sick to drive, and spent most of the pregnancy on bed rest. So I just didn't worry about anything but getting that baby delivered safely at full term.
When my son was born, I felt like that missing piece of my soul was found. It felt like that gaping hole I kept trying to fill with food was suddenly filled with love for my son. So I threw out thoughts of overeaters anonymous and threw out my sponsor's number because I was "cured". I wouldn't need food because I had my son.
But it doesn't work like that. I wasn't cured. I wasn't fine. Whenever I held my son I felt that overflowing love - but eventually my son didn't want to be cuddled all day long. He wanted to crawl and explore the world. He loves me, and I'm his favorite person, but he wants to become his own person now. And magically that gaping hole is no longer full all the time. So I started to fill it up with food once more. While nursing I'd lost my entire pregnancy weight and then an additional twenty pounds. Now I've gained back those twenty pounds and added another twenty for good measure. I'm not back to my pregnancy weight, but without help I'll be back there soon.
So I know now that this is a disease. I can't just will it to be cured. It isn't going to just magically go away, no matter how much I may want it to. I belong here, like it or not.
I've talked to my mother and my best friend about my participation in OA. They both are supportive of me working to lose weight, but they just don't seem to understand that this is a disease. My mother goes on to talk about her own issues with food - and believe me, she has them. But my mother is able to maintain a healthy weight. She does "yo-yo" diet, but her swing is in the five to ten pound range. As far as I know, she does not binge, she does not purge, all she does is eat like a normal person and cut back when she no longer is at a normal weight. I don't think she understands that I just can't do that. Believe me, she's baffled at the fact that I've never managed to get my weight off, and never managed to keep off whatever weight I have lost. She always says "when you want it bad enough, you'll find the will." And that's exactly the problem. I am powerless over this disease.
My best friend takes this as a suggestion that she'll go on a diet with me. This is just a diet club to her, not an actual illness. She doesn't want to accept the notion that there is anything wrong with me other than a lack of determination to lose weight. I think this may be because she also has difficulty losing weight. I suspect she may also be a compulsive overeater. So perhaps she fights against accepting that I am sick because she doesn't want to believe that she is sick as well.
When I first started with OA, my husband was skeptical but wanted to "humor me". Now that he's lived with me off the program, he's a believer. He's watched me suffer and he understands. He's found enough of my random stashes of hidden foods to understand that something is very wrong!
"Being mostly business or professional folk. . ." - xiii
I have a close friend who has always had a weight problem. She's blamed genetics, she's blamed her parent's divorce during childhood, she's blamed finances and time constraints. I used to always believe that her weight problem stemmed from her unwillingness to be uncomfortable. She won't wear under wire bras because they hurt. She changed to an easier major because the other was too hard - she had the mental capacity to succeed, but it just was more work than she was willing to put in. And I saw her weight problem as an extension of this aversion to discomfort.
But I am as heavy as she is. I don't have an aversion to discomfort. I went through eight years of college, and received my law degree from a university that prides itself on being one of the toughest schools around. I work from home, take care of my ten month old son, and manage to have dinner on the table by the time my husband gets home from work. Before my pregnancy I walked half-marathons to help raise money for cancer research, and volunteered as a mentor even though I worked insanely long hours during the week. I am not a lazy person. (My husband may disagree when it comes time to wash the dishes or take out the trash, however. . .)
I am a compulsive overeater. And seeing as how I am able to succeed in other areas of my life, it only seems logical that I would be able to apply the same diligence and fortitude that I have in other areas of my life. Only I can't. And as the Big Book mentioned, I'm not alone in this. This disease doesn't care that I'm educated, or a professional, or a mother, or anything about my willingness to volunteer for a cause. All this disease cares about is getting food from my plate into my stomach. And when the first Big Book was published, the first members were "mostly business or professional folk" - not lazy people, not weak willed people. They were people like me.
Foreword to Second Edition
". . .a New York stockbroker and an Akron physician. . ." - xv
Same thoughts as previous statement.
