Sunday, September 29, 2013

12 Steps to Total and Complete Insanity

[A spoof on the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. . .and oh so true!] 
  1. We admitted we were powerless over nothing. We could manage our lives perfectly and we could manage those of anyone else that would allow it.

  2. Came to believe that there was no power greater than ourselves, and the rest of the world was insane.

  3. Made a decision to have our loved ones and friends turn their wills and their lives over to our care.

  4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of everyone we knew.

  5. Admitted to the whole world at large the exact nature of their wrongs.

  6. Were entirely ready to make others straighten up and do right.

  7. Demanded others to either "shape up or ship out".

  8. Made a list of anyone who had ever harmed us and became willing to go to any lengths to get even with them all.

  9. Got direct revenge on such people whenever possible except when to do so would cost us our own lives, or at the very least, a jail sentence.
  10. Continued to take inventory of others, and when they were wrong promptly and repeatedly told them about it.
  11. Sought through nagging to improve our relations with others as we couldn't understand them at all, asking only that they knuckle under and do things our way.
  12. Having had a complete physical, emotional and spiritual breakdown as a result of these steps, we tried to blame it on others and to get sympathy and pity in all our affairs.
From The ACA Communicator - March 1990 - Omaha, Council Bluffs Area Intergroup

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Unpleasant Moments

Said every compulsive overeater, ever. . .
 
 
Sorry I haven't posted much lately!  I'm two days away from six months of abstinence and living a life I never dreamed possible.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Serenity Prayer Part 2

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

I am a compulsive overeater.  No matter how long I am abstinent, I will still be a compulsive overeater.  I can't stop being a compulsive overeater any more than I can wake up ten years younger or six inches taller.

The courage to change the things I can.

I don't have to let my disease be fatal.  I am going to be a compulsive overeater no matter what, but I can be an abstinent compulsive overeater.  Yes, it takes courage to become abstinent in a world that has such a poor understanding of the disease, but this is something that I can change. 

And the wisdom to know the difference.

I needed a flash of wisdom to see that it was possible to change myself.  It took wisdom to see that having an eating disorder did not mean that I was doomed to be forever gorging myself to death.  I didn't have to live in that constant state of compulsive overeating torture.  I could choose life.  And I have.

[Adapted from pages 18-19 of Living Sober.]

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

First Bite

Today I wanted to eat those little sugary frosted cookies they sell in the grocery stores for holidays. They are this beautiful floury sugary mush and I love them. It started when thinking of St. Patrick's Day and why we'd need a meeting marathon for that holiday. Then I thought of the cookies. And damn it I wanted one. Badly. I still want one and it's been 7 hours.
I tried all kinds of rationalizing. I said to myself, "[My Sponsor] doesn't need to know if I just ate one cookie. Or not even a full cookie but just a BITE of the cookie. That would be fine. Oh, and you know, I probably could manage one box of them without it impacting anything. The next day I'd be right back on the food plan and no one would need to be the wiser. I could just eat the cookies in the parking lot of the grocery store, toss the carton, toss the receipt, and no one would ever know."
Then that fucker who doesn't want me to enjoy a beautiful box of green frosted shamrock shaped cookies thought, "but that wouldn't be rigorous honesty, and rigorous honesty is how we got to peace." It then went on to remind me how happy I have felt lately. How much energy I have had to do chores and be attentive and playful with my son.
So I thought, "you know, I can just close my eyes and remember how they tasted and felt in my mouth. They can't take that away from me." [Because, you know, everyone in OA is conspiring against me and my cookies.] But it wasn't enough.  I just wanted one bite of cookie.  That was all I needed and I'd throw the box away, scout's honor. [Which is especially convenient since I was never a Girl Scout.]
And I had to go to the grocery store to pick up my husband's medicine. I thought, "I bet they don't even have those cookies yet. It's still February. They won't have them until March. I will just go and check and prove to myself that they aren't even there."
Well God was on my side today.  [One of my daily outreach calls] felt bad we hadn't talked in a few days so she called me as I was in the car on the way to get my husband's medicine. I made it a point to stay on the phone with her the entire time I was in the store. Because I know if I see the cookies I'll buy them.  If I take one bite of that cookie, I'd eat the whole box. Then I would raid the candy aisle. I saw the Starburst licorice sticks today and they looked amazing. I'd eat those next. Then some Mike & Ikes - I miss those. Then I'd keep grazing on sugar until I made myself ill. Ooh, then I'd hit the doughnuts and maybe get some more cookies. And I'd top it off with some garlic bread or maybe just get a whole big sourdough loaf thing and eat it with oil and balsamic vinegar. And Ding Dongs. I'd have to eat a box or two of those.
So really, I think it's easier to just not eat that first bite of cookie.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

The Fix

I am sad to say that when I am looking for guru style inspiration, I turn to my favorite blog for a fix.  I love the Big Book and the literature, but there is something a slight bit naughty about finding inspiration in "non-approved literature".  It sounds like something that I should be reading with a flashlight under my covers at night! Only in this case it is a blog by a man who has been over 20 years sober in AA.

The thing I love about speaker meetings is that I almost invariably go away with one sentence that is going to pop back in my head when I most need it.  I heard one speaker refer to these as "God shots" - and he always waited to hear his God shot of the day. [See what I did there?] 

I have learned in my brief time in program that the people with years of abstinence have been absorbing years of God shots that they drop like bread crumbs for us newbies to follow.  Which points out two things: 1) how important it is to have these old timers around to help us youngins, and 2) just how badass and awesome I am going to sound in a few years when I can drop these stolen borrowed gems of wisdom in meetings and blow the minds of the newcomers.

My God shot today came after a discussion with a family friend who is going on 22 years sober in AA.  We were talking about the tendency to replace our addictions.  So of course, up pops a blog entry dealing with the same subject.  The post is about what old timers mean when they say The Road Gets Narrower, and here is the quote that stood out to me:

"When it comes to "fixing" here's the secret, and I learned it the hard way: I will never be able to change how I feel by trying to take something in. I will never be able to let go of the fear or the resentment by consuming -- be it food or goods or people. I cannot fill the hole inside by taking things in -- the only way to shrink the hole is to reverse the flow. It's by giving (of myself, of my time, or my experience, to help others) that I am healed and literally "fixed", that I am filled -- not by taking in."  - Mr. Sponsorpants

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Knowing How To Listen

Lately I've found that God has been talking to me quite regularly.  Not in the literal "I hear God's voice and he told me that he likes cats and cheeseburgers" kind of way, but in the more subtle way that I think he's always tried to speak to me.  I just didn't know how to listen.

A few months ago, before I'd even started to contemplate sending my son to preschool, the manager at my grocery store noticed I was buying baby food and mentioned how amazing this one local preschool was.  I smiled, thanked him, and waited patiently as he wrote down the name for me.  I saved the piece of paper but it was out-of-sight-out-of-mind.  Last week, I decided it was about time to do something about that preschool issue.  Knowing my brother is one to research everything, I asked where he took my niece for preschool.  He said not to send my son to that preschool - the other parents around there are pretty awful but they didn't discover that until my niece had already made friends and they didn't want her to be forced to make new friends at a different preschool.  So my sister-in-law told me about the same preschool as the manager of the grocery store!

I call the program and ask for more information.  I am now scheduled for a Valentine's Day tour of the school at 10am.  While looking at the paperwork she sent me, I thought that the school was probably a bit more money than I wanted to spend.  After discussion, my husband agreed.  But instead of calling to cancel my spot at the tour I decided to check the school out just in case.  I didn't know why I wanted to bother - I'd already decided against it - but I listened to my instinct and went.

I didn't just like the school, I loved the school.  Hell, I want to be 2 years old to start with their itty bitty preschool program too!  I told my husband what I saw and he was as excited as I was.  So we got all the paperwork filled out and turned in.  It's in God's hands now whether they take my son. If not this year, then maybe next year!

After the tour of the preschool, I was scheduled to moderate a phone meeting for OA.  We were holding a Valentine's Day marathon.  The topic was the love of others, so after some thought I decided to pass along the Big Book pages my sponsor assigns for dealing with resentment [the condensed chunk is pages 60-62, 66-67, 417 and 552].  I wasn't sure how the meeting went because only four people were sharing.  I'd gotten good stuff out of the meeting, but shrugged and decided that having been of service was good enough for me.

I went to get dinner for my husband and I at my usual drive-thru.  For whatever reason, they didn't hear me order my husband's food.  So I went to another drive-thru that my husband likes [and isn't abstinent for me] to get him food.  Had I been listening, I would have broken one of the twenties in my wallet because I didn't have smaller change for my meeting that night!  I had two chances to break that twenty, but I didn't take it!

Later that night [after all the submitting of forms and getting other forms to the doctor's office etc. etc. etc.] I went to meet my sponsor in a farther off meeting.  While in the car, the songs on the radio were all ones that I didn't particularly care for.  So I switched from station to station to station looking for something to listen to.  Finally, I thought about the marathon of meetings.  Smiling, I called in. The second share after I signed into the phone meeting was from a woman who had attended my earlier meeting.  She mentioned in passing how it had been exactly what she needed to hear and she said it was a wonderful meeting.  The woman didn't know I was in call, so this was a huge compliment.  It made me feel so much better.

I attended meeting, ended up giving $12 because I hadn't gotten change for that $20 earlier [I figure that will be my contribution for the next few phone meetings - they ask you to give double at your next meeting].  After the meeting, I followed my sponsor to our abstinent restaurant to do some step work in the Big Book.  On the drive, I kept thinking about what I was going to do for the marathon meeting I was going to be leading on Monday.  Our President's Day theme is service.  As my sponsor took me through the preface and forwards, she had me write "service" in the margins next to every portion which discussed the work people did to grow the fellowship and carry the message on - pointing out that these people did this to stay sober.  I didn't tell her about the prompt, this just was what she wanted me to be getting from those pages.  And on the way home, I smiled and thanked God.

So I attended a tour that I didn't otherwise want to go on because of a hunch - and God showed me that this is where I should send my son.  Thank you for giving me an open mind, God!

I was concerned that I hadn't done a good job on my meeting, so God nudges me into the phone call in time to hear one of the women in my call share with others how wonderful my meeting had been.  Thank you for allowing me to hear that, God!

You tried to remind me to break that $20.  I'm sorry I wasn't listening, God.

I asked you for help preparing for a meeting.  Thank you for showing me the way through my sponsor, God!

I never used to believe in a Higher Power that cared about what I was doing or what happened to me.  The trick was just knowing how to listen!

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

"Every prayer is answered. Sometimes, however, the answer is 'no.'" - Mr. Sponsorpants

The Big Book tells us to avoid praying for our own selfish desires: "We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only.  We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped.  We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends." - Big Book, page 87

That is far easier said than done.  Since reading that, I have tried to be conscious of what I am praying for each time I address my Higher Power.  I have found that the vast majority of my entreaties are about things like, "please let that light stay green long enough for me to get through" or "please let the DVR have recorded my show this week!"  You know, the big, important selfish, minor things.  Things that will cater to my own comfort and desires.  I am working on consciously avoiding these kinds of prayers.  Frankly, if I'm going to get divine intervention, I'd rather use it for something big like: "please let my cancer be curable" or "please don't let my house catch on fire."

There are then the mixed prayers, things like "please let the baby sleep through the night" or "please don't let me be late for my dentist appointment."  There are quantifiable reasons why these prayers would help others.  My son needs to get his sleep for his health and growth.  If I am late for the dentist appointment it is likely to throw off the dental office's schedule putting them behind for the whole day.  I can say these prayers are helpful to others, but really what I am praying for are sleep and the lack of embarrassment respectively.  For the reasons above, I think these need to be minimized.

But there are other kinds of mixed prayers that I think definitely get the green light.  For example, "please don't let my baby catch the flu" or "please let my husband's blood test results come back negative for [insert disease here]."  I definitely have a personal stake in the health and well-being of my loved ones.  If my baby gets sick that means I am going to be caring for him round the clock, and likely will be sick as well.  Additionally, if my husband has some kind of illness, you can bet I'm going to hear about it ad nauseum if I'm not an active participant in the recovery process.  But in those instances, the prayers are directed toward the fact that I want my family to be healthy for no other reason than that I love them and wish the best for them. 

So I am hoping that if I cut out the selfish, unimportant prayers I will have better chances that my important prayers aren't going to get "no" as the answer.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Relationship With God

This is an excerpt from a blog written by an incredible young woman named Sheila.

"Having a relationship with an infinite, all-knowing, all-powerful being who doesn't talk back is really, really hard.

This post is to summarize those things I do know about God. Some of them are things I know by instinct; others I have to remind myself over and over again, because there's a part of me that can't quite wrap my head around them. I find myself just defaulting to Jerk-God because the real God is just too puzzling to understand.

What do I know about God?

First, I know his definition. He is the creator of all things. That is what most people mean when they say "God." I tend to explain by saying that all things we know of in this world have a temporal beginning and a cause. But we know, because the universe is here at all, that something had to come behind all these causes -- something different, something that didn't have a temporal beginning or a cause. . . .

And when I look at the created world, really look at it, I feel like the person who made all these things is someone I would very much like. I mean, think about it. He could have created us like the plants, just needing some sunshine but never having to eat. But he made us able to bite into a juicy steak or crunchy apple. We could have reproduced by budding, but he gave us sex, pregnancy, birth -- things so weird and wonderful I sometimes imagine the trouble I would have explaining them to aliens. He didn't paint everything with a broad brush; every detail of creation is worked out perfectly, so that no microscope can see the infinitesimally small but absolutely organized structure of everything.

This comforts me more than anything. I know that Jerk-God could never create this wonder. Jerk-God would have had the world be so much less fun. Real God gave us a place we could really delight in, because he wanted us to be happy.

Someone who would go to the trouble of all that creating wasn't going to be happy just setting us on our way and letting us go. He wanted to have an actual relationship with us. Now I think we all know that it's impossible to have a real relationship that's forced in any way. God made us able to say no to him. . . .

This God is someone who is awfully eager to get to know us. . . .

I was struggling internally a few weeks ago with all this when [her son] started singing to himself. He sang a song from Mr. Rogers: "It's you I like, the way you are right now, way down deep inside you." I couldn't help but think, "If Mr. Rogers can love me just the way I am, what kind of person is God if he can't manage the same?"

It's hard to believe in this. It is so, so hard to believe that at the same moment a person could know everything about you, and I mean everything ... and at the same time love you. It's hard to believe that there could be a person who couldn't deceive or be deceived, who is pure unchanging truth ... and at the same time love you.

We tend to pick one or the other, love OR truth. Either God lies and says everything I do is a-okay and I never do anything wrong, in which case he can love me, or he sees the reality of what I am and the people I've hurt and the lies I've told, in which case he can't possibly love me. I think this is one of the mysteries of God that we'll never fully understand, how he can see us and our faults and still smile at us, the way I smile at my boys, and say, "I love you just the way you are, not later when you've earned it, but right now."

All of my spiritual life . . . has been a process of trying to be worthy, to be good enough. I feel that God has made a terrible mistake by loving me, and the only way to make it right is to try to be good enough so it won't be such a mistake. . . .

. . .  I want to be a better person because everyone wants to be a better person, this is a good thing to do. But God isn't my personal trainer. Sometimes he might want to talk about other stuff besides how awful I am.

In fact, I think that, if he's anything like all the other people who love me, he doesn't like hearing about how awful I am. Think how you feel, if a person you love starts bashing themselves. You want to run in and yell, "Don't talk that way about the person I love!" Why wouldn't God be the same?

To understand God, I have to redefine my terms.

God loves me.
Old definition: God tolerates me and gives me things for no apparent reason, considering how much I suck.
New definition: God actually likes me, enjoys being with me, and sees all the good in me.

God wants me to be happy.
Old definition: I'd better do what God wants, even if it makes me miserable, because if I don't things are going to be even worse.
New definition: God wants me to be happy, and if I'm not, it isn't his doing. He hates seeing me suffer, and though he can't always rush in to fix everything, he really does care about my struggles.
. . .

If God is like this, I really do want to know him. Not because I feel guilty that he loves me so much and I've loved him so little in return. God can handle that. He wouldn't have created mankind if he couldn't take a little rejection, and anyway I actually do love God at least to some extent, so it's not like he's actually getting rejected by me. The reason I want to get to know God is because he seems like the sort of person I would like to know."

Step One, Question 1, Page 1

I think it's time I take the plunge and start writing on the first question in the workbook.  It has been sitting on my desk, open to that page, for weeks.  I will begin working the steps with my sponsor this week and I have some time before bed to do a bit of work, so here goes nothing (or perhaps, everything)!

1. "In OA we are encouraged to take a good look at our compulsive eating, obesity, and the self-destructive things we have done to avoid obesity - the dieting, starving, over-exercising, or purging."  Here is a First-Step inventory of my compulsive eating history.

A lot of my early compulsive eating is blurred by the haze of the sugar high.  Or perhaps I should say "glaze".  I remember not being allowed sweets because my mom was worried about my weight.  It wasn't consistently enforced, though.  It was like her own warring opinions on whether she could eat sweets spilled over into what she permitted me to eat.  But here are a few compulsive overeating memories:

I would sneak into the pantry when people were busy/sleeping/away to steal food.  My favorites were fruit snacks and granola bars.  The best was the "Fruit O's" from Costco - fruit snacks in a huge container from Costco.  I knew I could take one or two of those a day without being caught.  Granola bars were another love, but I knew I had to take those slow.  I would take one bar a day.  There was a very strict order to how I ate my closet foods: 2 Fruit O's, 1 granola bar, 1 of this, 1 of that.  It depended on what we had at the time.  Gold fish had to be smuggled one handful at a time.  If the container went missing I would get caught and I'd either get lectured or in actual trouble.  The number of items became just as important as the theft of the food and it's consumption.  No matter how much or how often I smuggled, I always wanted more.  It called to me and I craved it, but I knew I had to wait until the next day or they'd notice the food was disappearing too fast.  Thankfully my brother was assumed to be the one doing the eating.  Eventually he hid the food in his room to keep me out, which upped the stakes.  I only could sneak in maybe once a week to get the food then.  Even now, when I go to fast food restaurants, I find that I get a list of foods I want: 1 of A, 1 of B, 1 of C, 1 of D - the ordering of the food is part of the ritual, even when I ordered far more than I could possibly consume.

I remember being excited about the food come the holidays.  It was the one day I knew my mom wouldn't chase me about how much I ate - until the car ride home when both parents would scold me in front of my brother.  I would make the obligatory round of hugs and then settle next to the appetizer table.  I would eat non-stop until dinner.  Then I'd eat a plate of two of food at dinner, maybe sneak back for more appetizers.  Then I'd get one of everything offered for desert, after I snuck in plenty of cookies, fudge, and whatever else was sitting out for deserts.  The sad truth is: I can't remember much about the holidays other than eating and hoping my parents weren't watching how much I was putting into my mouth and body.

In elementary school I used to offer to put anything people wanted to give me into my yogurt to eat it.  I wanted the food, so even if they put tuna salad in my cherry yogurt, I'd take it.  Mostly it was things like Oreo cookies [yum] or half eaten sandwiches.  I ate anything people wanted to throw out.  I never fished in the school trash cans [although I did in the kitchen trash can at home] but I was a mini garbage disposal for anything and everything no one wanted.  My friends eventually started bringing extra food for me.

In college I remember thinking constantly about food.  Classes were the things I did between meal times.  I loved the cafeterias because I could get as many plates as I wanted, and if I went alone I didn't have to worry about anyone following me.  Mostly I didn't think about people watching me eat then. I was out of the sight of my parents, which to me meant I was out of the sight of everyone.  I frequented the vending machines in my building - I think I stopped on the way to and from every class for something, usually those little doughnuts.  Once I had a car, my food adventures were usually in the form of 4 or 5 large meals a day at fast food as well as the dining halls.  I went every Tuesday to a Thai food restaurant where I ate until the point of pain.  I also always had snacks in my room to nibble on between meals.  This part is a bit fuzzy, because I didn't pay a lot of attention to what I was eating when.  I have always been a grazer so I had meals I paid attention to, and meals where I just grazed along without paying attention to what I was eating.

In grad school I think I lived on pizza, sub sandwiches and chips, and fast food (including an awesome fast food Italian restaurant that had cheese covered baked lasagna that I would eat with garlic bread sticks - carb heaven hell.) I ate huge quantities of food, including in the middle of the night while studying.  I would go to IHOP, order 2 or 3 meals and eat it all before I left.

After grad school I got the gastric bypass stomach surgery, which severely limited my ability to binge.  They literally sewed off part of my stomach and rerouted my intestines.  So once I was recovered enough to eat normal foods, I would still go to the restaurants and order all my food.  The ritual was still in place.  I just ended up throwing out most of it.  I would eat a bite or two of everything and make myself ill, but I would do my best.  I often grazed on my meal all day long - one monstrous breakfast-lunch-dinner mishmash of a meal.  Eventually I managed to eat back on most of my weight since there was nothing that caused the infamous "dumping syndrome" for me. 

When I joined OA, I had gained back some - but not all - of my gastric bypass weight loss.  I gave up certain "trigger foods" but binged freely on the others.  It was retaliatory binging.  I took away french fries? Then doughnuts it was!  I took out doughnuts next, then I went to those little fruit-jelly filled pies and cookies. Eventually I gave up and went back to before.  Then I came back and tried it again - with the same results as before.  Before I started with my current sponsor I had a two week long binge that was pure hell [described here]. And I haven't compulsively overeaten since.

Now to move on to the memories involving restricting/anorexia/bulimia:

These three were always lumped together for me.  I remember in second or third grade hearing my mom talk about how she dieted as a kid: hard boiled egg for breakfast, and she kept lunch and dinner each under 200 calories.  So I did the same.  It stunted my growth and I stopped growing at age 10.

In sixth grade I started the anorexia.  I would skip every meal I could get away with.  It was not that hard to get away with: I would tell friends that I was eating at home, and family that I ate with friends.  No one paid attention to what I ate at school, so I didn't have to worry there.  Sometimes I ate at school because I liked the food, but it depended on the day.  I think it got bad when I was between sixth and seventh grade, actually.  During the summer months.  When I had to eat dinner with my family, I'd squirrel the food into my cheeks and spit it out into napkins [because I wasn't smart enough to think that people would notice].  I just pretended it was gristle.  My mom wasn't inclined to feed me sweets, so that was never a problem.  When I couldn't get away with the gristle ruse, I'd rush to the bathroom and spit out the food in my squirrel cheeks.  My parents obviously knew what was going on but chose to do nothing about it.  Eventually my friends at school held me down at lunch time and force fed me.  Once I was eating it seemed that this phase of my life had ended.

Bulimia became something that popped up intermittently with my binges.  I can't really remember much about the bulimia, except that it took me a while to figure out how to make me puke since my gag reflex isn't very sensitive.  After my weight loss surgery I was lucky that as soon as I overate I would need to vomit.  So the purge just took a few extra bites of food and out it would come.  I often used that route to get more food, but sometimes it was a way to clear the binge.

Eventually I would alternate as an adult between binge, purge, and restricting days.

Compulsive exercising hit me around eighth grade.  I wanted to be skinny so I signed up for every sport my school offered, including cross country.  Later I ran for the love of running, but at first it was all about the burning of calories.  In grad school I exercised five to seven days a week as a means of telling myself that I was working on my weight and clearly it wasn't my fault that I was fat.

I can honestly say I've tried just about every diet over the years:  calorie counting, Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers, South Beach, Atkins, HMR, Liquid Only, Slim Fast, Lean Cuisine, not eating after 6/8/10pm, skipping breakfast, eating no breads, eating no dairy, eating no red meat, vegetarian, alcohol only, eating no pasta, eating no snacks, eating five small meals, etc.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Just a Thought. . .

"I can't think my way into right acting, but I can act my way into right thinking."   - Unknown

Friday, February 8, 2013

Working the Vowels

So I saw something great on MrSponsorpants that was wonderful and wanted to share it here!  This is only part of his post on working the 10th Step
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
So the quick outline that is both about what I'm doing right and what need to do differently is this:
A, E, I, O, U, and 'sometimes Y' -- Just like we learned the vowels in school. It stands for:

A - A for [Abstinence].
What am I doing/did I do to address my [compulsive overeating] today. Go to a meeting? Talk with my sponsor? Work on an inventory?

E - E for Exercise.
The AA Slogan H.A.L.T., (Hungry, Angry, Lonely and Tired), just underscores how keeping our body chemistry balanced helps us maintain our emotional and spiritual equilibrium. So E is for Exercise, as in, did I do any today? If not, then I note that down (and I mean real exercise) so that I can over the course of a week look back and go, "Wow, I had planned on doing "X" every day but I really only did it twice this week..." -- or, on the other hand maybe note that "Wow, it's Friday, and I have done real exercise every day this week. Go Me!"
Now look, noting if I did or did not do any exercise is a bit of a stretch to call a part of "continuing to take personal inventory and when wrong, promptly admit it", I know that -- but honestly, I've found when I keep my body chemistry balanced (H.A.L.T. and the exercise piece) then I'm more able to be on my game for the "promptly admit it" part, and the "spot check throughout the day."

I - I for me, myself.
What did I do to take care of myself today? This is really broad, and sometimes nothing comes to mind one way or another, but for me this is about healthy self care -- setting boundaries, etc. -- beyond the straight-up 12 Step work in the "A" above. For example, did I take care of myself by making sure I took a real lunch break at work, or did I not put off buying that card and getting it in the mail so I'm not all panicky, or did I make a special effort not to deflect compliments, or was I especially good about keeping to my mediation routine ... anything substantive that underscores the "not only in Red Ink" part of my daily inventory.

O - for Others -- where was I of service?
And for me I regard this as 'Where was I of 12 Step-type service'? Not some bullshit "I didn't yell at any salesclerks today" stuff -- more along the lines of meeting with sponsees, or calling some Program peeps to see how they're doing, or performing my service commitment at a meeting, that kind of thing.

U - Uncover -- what is that thing that I don't want to think about?
I need to write it here. It's not a promise that I will immediately do something about it, but it's about not sliding into denial or anything. Like if I need to call the IRS and I haven't, or I keep putting the scary bills in a drawer and not opening them, or something. I just note it here, so that eventually it's in my consciousness enough that I can become willing to do something about it.

'and Sometimes Y' - for "Yahoo!" (the emotion, not the web service) as in, something especially fun that I'm looking forward to -- the hot date, the concert, the theater tickets -- This is the thing that makes life fun, and can be a building block to some gratitude for the abundance in my life.

So in practice what I've done is simply written them down the left side of a page, "A, E, I, O, U and sometimes Y" and then written the 'answer' in next to them -- sometimes I've done it in the morning as kind of a To Do List, left it on my dresser and gone about my day, and then wrote it again the same night to see if I followed through. I like this because it covers the "whole" me but has a real focus on life through a 12 Step lens. It's a little bit "cutesy" I admit it. Works though.

Finally, the aeiou thing is not in the literature specifically, but I've used it on and off forever because I think it encompasses the whole spirit of the 10th Step, the good and bad, etc. Especially once you are in the real habit of 'cleaning as you go' (the 'Spot Check' part of the 10th Step) and don't have a lot of mental, emotional or behavioral trash to clean up at the end of every day.

The Disease of More

"'When you eat one, you want more,
then two, then three, then pretty soon four.'" - A New Beginning, page 4

I heard at meeting once that we are suffering from a disease of more.  We want more food, more happiness, more attention, more perfection, more love, more respect, more more more.  But one thing I desperately wanted more of was peace and serenity, and I knew that there was no way for me to reconcile that desire with the desire for more food.  So the food had to go.  But that was easier said than done!

One of the biggest impediments to my abstinence, however, was always the fact that I could see others eat sugar and fast food and pizza and all those other things I loved with impunity.  But Dr. Bob worded it best: "I used to get terribly upset when I saw my friends [eat junk food] and knew I could not, but I schooled myself to believe that though I once had the same privilege, I had abused it so frightfully that it was withdrawn.  So it doesn't behoove me to squawk about it for, after all, nobody ever had to throw me down and pour [sugar] down my throat." - The Big Book, page 181 (Dr. Bob's Nightmare)

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

A Conversation With My Disease

Disease: Your addiction is much worse than that of the alcoholic! You can live without alcohol, but not without food!

Me: You can live without alcoholic foods like flour and sugar, too.  You can live without flour and sugar, but not without fluids to drink!

Disease: But flour and sugar are so much more pervasive than alcohol!

Me: Are you sure about that?  How many social events do you go to where there are no alcoholic beverages? That toast at midnight on New Years Eve.  Wine or beer with Thanksgiving dinner. Eggnog or mulled wine for Christmas.  Going out for drinks with coworkers.  Going to the bar to celebrate a promotion. All of those things involve alcohol.  You can't even go out to dinner without having the drink menu being offered to you.

Disease: Yeah, I guess that's true.  But people really push when you don't want to eat sugar or flour foods!  They don't understand that you can't have them.

Me: They push when you don't want to drink too.

Disease: So maybe I'm not so different from the alcoholic, but I certainly am different from the narcotic addict!  Their fix isn't even legal!

Me: That is true, but what about prescription medicine?

Disease:  What about it?

Me: Narcotic addicts are going to need aspirin, antibiotics, and cold medicine just like the rest of us.  Some of these medicines they are going to need to live every much as we need food to live.  They need to learn to take their medications at proper intervals just like we need to learn to take meals at proper intervals. 

Disease: I don't think that's the same thing at all!

Me: Are you sure about that?  Once we have taken out the alcoholic foods from our meal plans, we need to focus on taking our food at proper intervals.  Like us, now that the narcotics addict has taken out the illegal narcotics from their lives, they need to focus on learning to take pharmaceuticals at proper intervals.  It seems like a pretty clear connection to me!

Disease: Fine. You win for now.  I'm going to sit in the corner petulantly until you aren't paying attention again.  Then you better watch out, because I'm going to catch you when you least expect it!

Me: My Higher Power and I will see you then.

Third Step Prayer

The Third Step Prayer can be found on page 63 of the Big Book, second paragraph:

God, I offer myself to Thee -
to build with me and do with me as Thou wilt.
Relieve me of the bondage of self,
that I may better do Thy will.
Take away my difficulties,
that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help
of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life.
May I do Thy will always!

Monday, February 4, 2013

Escalator

Life is like an escalator.  If you aren't taking steps forward, you're just moving backwards.

(I heard this in meeting tonight.)

That First Step's A Doozie

The speaker at my meeting this evening talked a lot about the steps.  He expressed something that resonated with me: he couldn't start the program until he was willing to take the first step.  Of course, he was referring to the actual First Step: We admitted we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable. 

While in a step study meeting focused on the Sixth Step (were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character), one speaker stated that we are always ready to have the consequences of our defects removed if not the defect itself.  We cling to our defects like treasured friends.  So too do we cling to the notion that we are not compulsive overeaters.  We may want to have the symptom removed - our excess weight - but we are often not ready to admit that the excess weight was brought on by our powerlessness over food.

I have heard the road to recovery begins when you take that step into the door of your first meeting.  But the fact remains that recovery simply will not happen until you are able to admit that there is something you need to recover from.  As the Big Book says, "Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely." (Page 58)

I walked into my first meeting to be moral support for a friend.  A very clever friend who knew exactly what I was even if I didn't know it myself.  At the end of the meeting, I was able to declare with absolute certainty that I was a compulsive overeater.  I marched up to the speaker and asked her to be my sponsor that very same meeting.

The problem was, I didn't necessarily believe that I was powerless over food, and I most certainly didn't believe that my life was unmanageable!  I had done quite well for myself - or so I believed.  All I needed was someone to help me with a food plan and to give me accountability.  Then I would lose my weight, keep following my food plan, and not need to worry about silly things like meetings.  You see, I had it all figured out.

Every time I asked my sponsor when we would start doing step work, she would tell me that we were: we were working on the first step.  I would protest, "but I already admitted I was a compulsive overeater."  She would just smile and tell me to trust her.  So for months I was performing exercises designed to show me that my life was unmanageable.  I just didn't realize that was what we were doing. 

The exercise that caused me the most pain and suffering was so innocuous that I never suspected what I was in for.  I was told to perform one simple task: write down three things you love about yourself every day.  I rolled my eyes at this task, but when I sat down that first night to write down my three things I was in a quandary.  I couldn't think of a single one!  So I tried to go through my laundry list of achievements.  But no matter what achievement I looked at, I found a way in which it wasn't good enough.  I should have done better.  In the hour I sat there, I turned every last accomplishment I'd ever had into a personal failure, right down to my first place trophy for my seventh grade basketball team's undefeated season.  (Yes, I was digging that deep to find something to be proud of that I could love about myself.)  After running out of accomplishments, I then went to tear down every aspect of my physical appearance, from my wild curly brown hair to my big ugly feet.

That was the moment I made my first outreach call to a woman named Diane.  Looking back I almost feel sorry for that poor woman.  As soon as I verified who I was speaking with I broke down into a loud wailing sob and announced "I don't love anything about myself!"  It is to her credit that she didn't even miss a beat.  I can't remember what she said that day, but it was apparently exactly what I needed to hear.  After getting off the phone I sat down and came up with my three things I loved about myself.  1) My purple sparkly toenails (I usually have my toes painted).  2) The three freckles on my left foot that form a straight line diagonally across my foot.  3)  The way my wrists pop and I can make little popping sound music with them.  The next day, the cluster of freckles on my right leg that look like they could make a smiley face if you connected the dots was at the top of my list.  Of all my accomplishments, these were the things that I could identify as something I loved about myself.

Not once during the time with my first sponsor did I ever reach a point where something about my personality or my accomplishments was found on that list.  Yet still, I didn't see that my life was unmanageable.  I left program ten pounds lighter but no better off emotionally.  I got married.  Had a baby.  Lost the baby weight while nursing.  Then within a matter of months gained almost all of it back.  To put this in perspective, I weighed 230 when I got pregnant. I weighed 290 when I gave birth. I weighed 220 when I stopped nursing 6 months later, and 250 when I went back to OA 3 months later after having been completely incapable of keeping that weight from coming back.

Yet still, I wasn't ready to let go.  I thought to work the program on my own, and for two months I was able to maintain a personal abstinence while not getting any healthier mentally or emotionally and while only losing five pounds.  I realized I had to do something.  So I sought out my current sponsor and asked her to take me on.  As I discussed in my earlier post (here), I allowed myself to go off the deep end. 

I can remember the exact moment that I realized both my powerlessness and the unmanageableness of my life.  My husband and I were in Honolulu.  We had just eaten dinner and were walking back to our hotel.  I was quite full, but we had discussed getting Coldstones on the way back from dinner.  I didn't really want the ice cream, but seeing as how we'd already said we were going to get some I didn't feel up to backing out.  So I walked into the store not wanting the ice cream.  I ordered the ice cream - and not the smallest size either - thinking I would rather not have the ice cream.  Then, I proceeded to finish that ice cream while still thinking I don't want this.  I didn't enjoy the ice cream, I didn't want it, but I couldn't stop myself. I ate it anyway.

That night I stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, and thought.  The middle of the night is a terrible time to be alone with my brain.  I realized that I was going to die unless I could find some way to stop eating.  As the Big Book words it, I was finally licked.  That night I waved the white flag and knew hopelessness and despair like I had never experienced before.

I had finally taken the first step.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Oatmeal - Yum Yum

So I love my oatmeal.  I save it as my last meal of the day because it sits so nicely in my stomach as I go to bed and soothes me right to sleep.

Tonight as I was eating oatmeal, a bit fell onto the ground.  So I picked it up and was going to eat it - just had to pick that one stray dog hair off of it.  And then I stopped and said "eew - what the hell are you doing?"

One month ago I totally would have eaten that piece of oatmeal [after picking out the hair].  I never would have even stopped to think about how gross that is.  I decided tonight that I didn't have to.  I'm not sure if it's progress, but it sure is a tiny bit less gross.

We Have Recovered

Working with my sponsor, I have made the first run through Section I of the Big Book and I'm now making my second round.  At first I believed it would be a futile exercise - I read it carefully the first time through. . . what did she think I was missing?!?  But I didn't argue - mine is not to wonder why, mine is but to do or die. [Literally.]

I went through the preface, nodding with my great wisdom born of a whopping 38 days of abstinence!  Then I got to the first sentence of the Foreword to the First Edition and it stopped me cold.

"We of [Overeater's] Anonymous . . . have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body."  I am not recovered yet.  I am far from recovered.  But when I first read that sentence I glossed over it.  It meant nothing to me - I wanted to get to the meat.  I wanted the answers.  But I missed the first and most important answer of all: this malady is only seemingly hopeless

I had envisioned a pitched battle with this disease that would go on the rest of my life, with abstinence held together only by duct tape and a bent paper clip MacGyver style.  I never imagined that in less than a month the miracle would happen.  I honestly didn't understand what "the miracle" meant.  In my mind I thought it was just the weight loss.  It never occurred to me that something actually miraculous would occur!

The miracle is clarity of mind.  The insanity that rages constantly in my mind tuned down the volume from a 10 to a 1.  It is still there, and Marion - my disease - is constantly lurking and waiting for the opportunity to jump back into dominance.  But for now, she is silent. 

I was right in a sense - there is a pitched battle going on for my life, and Marion wants to kill me.  But this is only a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body.  If I follow directions, work the steps, and keep coming back she is going to be held at bay.  And there is absolutely a pitched battle going on, but it isn't being held together by duct tape and a bent paper clip.  It is being silently waged in the background, and as long as I make sure my Higher Power's voice and my sponsor's voice are coming through loud and clear it's going to stay that way.

That is the miracle.  Thank God.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

The Oatmeal Wars

When I did my thirty day weigh in, I discovered I'd lost 16.6 pounds.  My husband, seeing the results, announced that he would follow my diet as well to lose some of the weight he has gained.  I am obviously supportive.  In the past two years he has gained thirty pounds, and he was already about thirty pounds overweight then.  He went from a size L to a size 2X. 

The problem is, his interpretation of "follow my diet" is have me prepare his meals for him.  There are some aspects I don't mind.  For instance, I was already packaging up the chicken and rice into correct sized servings.  It was not difficult to place them together in a tupperware container for his lunch.  (Although the principle that he is unwilling to measure his own meat and rice does bother me.)

But he won't make oatmeal in the morning.  The process of oatmeal is as follows: add 2 cups water to 1 cup oatmeal in a bowl.  Microwave 2 minutes. Stir.  Microwave 1 minute.  Stir.  Let it cool. Add banana. Eat.  That is too much for him to manage in the morning.  Instead, he wants to drive to McDonald's and get an Egg McMuffin.  I will agree - an Egg McMuffin is far tastier than unseasoned oatmeal sans milk.  But he acts as though he is saving huge quantities of time by waiting in line for the drive-thru.  It takes about ten minutes to get the food and get to work.  He is not saving any time by avoiding the oatmeal, and he is spending more money than he needs to (and we are most certainly on a tight budget).

The part that upsets me about this is how much pressure he has placed on my shoulders to make sure he has his food.  If I don't have his lunch packed for him and I don't have his oatmeal made for him, then he's going to not be able to follow the diet (heaven forbid he should drive four blocks to El Pollo Loco at lunch to get his own chicken) and will continue to gain weight and move closer and closer to the diabetes that runs in his family.

So I will be praying to my higher power tonight to help with this resentment.  I am going to see this as my service to him, and part of making amends for all the times I am snippy with him.  Hopefully that helps.

Monday, January 14, 2013

At Home Chicken And Rice Is Nice!

For those who are interested, here is the recipe:

Chicken
Chef Merito chicken seasoning: This seasoning can be purchased in the Mexican
Food section of almost any grocery store. I purchased mine at Food 4 Less.
3 TBS Chef Merito Chicken Seasoning
2 C. Orange Juice
1 C. Lemon Juice
2 C. Canola Oil
Place ingredients in blender on low speed.

Marinade for 4 hours or overnight if using chicken with skin.
If you are using boneless skinless chicken breasts, this marinade will cover 2 packs of chicken from the store. Lay the chicken out in 2 pyrex baking dishes and pour the marinade over the chicken.
Then preheat the oven to 375 - the amount of time this takes is just about the right amount of marinade time.
Bake the chicken for 50 minutes.
Remove from oven and place in large frying pan [I used the rice pan] - add in marinade and cook an additional 5 minutes or so until cooked to your liking. You may also barbeque the chicken or cook in broil setting for the last few minutes instead.

Rice Preparation:
Prepare the following ingredients and set aside:
1. 3 Cups of water
2. 2.5 Cups of Long Grain Rice
3. 2 TBSP of Knorr Chicken Flavor Bouillon
4. 1 TBSP Garlic Powder
5. 1 TBSP Pepper
6. 2 8oz. cans of Tomato Sauce
7. If desired, add diced tomatoes and onion.
8. 1 TBSP Chili Powder
9. ½ TBSP Cumin
10. 1 TBSP Onion Powder

In a Teflon pot or big Teflon frying pan with a cover add a little canola oil with
the rice. Don’t add too much oil, you’re just trying to saturate the rice not
deep fry it.
Set your flame on high and continually move the rice around until
it browns. Remember, just brown it; it shouldn’t be get dark brown. It seems to be about right when you get a popcorn-like smell from the pan.
Add your water completely, then add tomato sauce.
Finally, add the remaining ingredients.
Continue to stir on high and bring to a boil. Reduce heat cover and simmer for
35 minutes. Fluff with a fork and serve.

To save on dishes, I let the chicken hang out in the marinade while the rice cooled a bit. I then measured the rice into 3/4 cup servings and placed in ziplock baggies for storage until the pot was empty. Then I finished cooking the chicken as well. The serving size for chicken is 6 ounces.

Jealousy

Last night I made a recipe my sponsor gave me for chicken and rice.  Unfortunately, I didn't have time to eat a plate before it was time to go to my meeting so I let my husband graze and grabbed some El Pollo Loco.  This morning, I put together my pre-measured plate of food and discovered how incredibly delicious the chicken and rice plate is!

Then I realized my husband was having this chicken and rice for lunch and felt an insane surge of jealousy.  Yes, I was jealous of my husband for getting to eat the exact same chicken and rice that was sitting in front of me.  I stopped a moment, recognized the crazy, and had a good chuckle.

Wisdom

"It is only the ego that compares.  Wisdom does not compare, wisdom simply knows everything is as it is supposed to be." - Rev. Danielle Marie Hewitt

I attended a meeting this evening at an interesting spiritual center.  So, curious, I began to look further into the spiritual center and the type of faith services that they offer.  During a meditation period, I heard the reverend make this comment and thought I'd share.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Red Light, Green Light and the Inventory

When I first came into OA, I grabbed a sponsor my first meeting.  The first thing she discussed was making an inventory of red light, yellow light, and green light foods.  Red light foods were those which I knew I could not eat safely.  Yellow light foods were those that I would have to be cautious around.  Green light foods were those foods I could eat without fear of triggering compulsive overeating.

A few weeks ago I purchased a workbook at my Thursday night meeting.  I turned to the first page and read the prompt before deciding to wait for instruction from my sponsor to begin this workbook.  But the past weeks I have been thinking about that prompt, and for me the thoughts don't really go away until I let them go (i.e. write them down).

The prompt reads: "In OA we are encouraged to take a good look at our compulsive eating, obesity, and the self-destructive things we have done to avoid obesity - the dieting, starving, over-exercising, or purging."  Here is a First-Step inventory of my compulsive eating history.

This isn't going to be a full response to that prompt, but this prompt made me think about why my work with my first sponsor was doomed to fail.  Everything is a red or yellow light food!  I have managed to binge at least once on all of the following [and by binge I mean overeat to an extreme degree often resulting in physical illness or extreme discomfort]:

Meats
grilled chicken breast
chicken/turkey cold cuts
bologna
hot dogs
sausage
(turkey) bacon
steak
ground beef
ground turkey
meatballs
beef jerky
ground lamb
lamb/chicken/beef kebab

Dairy
cheese [everything from goats cheese and brie to cheddar and pepper jack]
(Greek) yogurt
ice cream [not sure that should really count as dairy]
cottage cheese
sour cream [have sat down with a spoon to eat this before]
cream cheese [although I did add some sugar to it before I ate it]
eggs [scrambled, poached, over medium, hard boiled, medium boiled]

Breads/Grains
All [everything from bread to oatmeal to falafel and more]

Fruits
apples [which was a terrible idea since I am allergic to them]
(dry) apricots
avocado
bananas
blueberries
cherries
coconut
grapes
honeydew
mandarin
cantaloupe [also an allergically bad idea - I thought my mouth would never stop itching]
watermelon
nectarine
orange
peach
pear
plums
pineapple
salsa [of various origins - yum]
strawberry
tangerine

Vegetables
artichoke [that was a painful binge. . .]
black beans
chickpeas
green beans
kidney beans
lentils
pinto beans
soy beans
peas
broccoli
cabbage [another terrible idea intestinally speaking]
cauliflower [amazingly tasty with lemon juice]
celery [an unpleasant binge since I hate celery - but I ate it all anyway]
corn
okra
yellow & orange bell pepper
pepperochinis [that was some awful heart burn]
beets
carrots
pickled turnips [so tasty, but so painful in large quantities]
spinach
cucumber
zucchini
pumpkin
potato
sweet potato
yam
water chestnuts

Sweets
All

I have even binged on juices, soda, energy drinks, coffee, tea, and once drank so much water that I threw my electrolites completely out of whack.

That isn't to say I even like all the foods I've binged on.  While a lot of my binging is related to the foods I like to eat, it isn't always about the food.  Sometimes it is about that feeling of being painfully full - full to the point of vomiting.  As in the above-mentioned celery binge, it was about inflicting punishment upon myself. 

A food plan based upon avoiding trigger foods is nearly impossible when everything is a trigger.  That's why my own food plan - eating virtually the same thing every day - works for me.  There is no need to think or plan or be at the mercy of my binges.  I eat my food and leave it at that.  In the simplicity I [usually] find peace.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

The Running Dream

I have a recurring dream that I'm running.  It isn't a bad dream, and I'm not running to or from anything.  I can't say how long I've been running or when I'm going to stop - I'm running for the sake of running.  The day is perfect - sunny but not too bright, and the temperature is just right for running.  My muscles don't ache, my lungs fill effortlessly and painlessly with air and I'm in that groove where I can run forever. Whenever I have this dream I feel completely free and at peace.   I am at one with the world around me and the universe.

I remember having this feeling when I was younger and ran cross country.  You get to a point where running is its own form of meditation.  You don't care about how fast you're going or how far you're going to run.  I used to just run until I felt I'd worked out the problem in my mind - not consciously because I never really thought during my runs.  The only sounds in my running utopia are the sounds of my breathing and heart beat going in time with the slap of my shoes on the pavement.  And in that special place of quiet, I found find my center and suddenly my problems would unravel.

Abstinence feels a bit like that when I've had a good day.  But after having that dream I look forward to the time when my sponsor tells me to start exercising again, because I miss the run. 

The running dream is my favorite dream.  It always seems to come when I most need the peace and spiritual healing it always seems to bring.  To which all I can say is, "thanks God, I needed that."

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Chapter 1 - Bill's Story - page 1

"Here was love, applause,war; moments sublime with intervals hilarious.  I was part of life at last, and in the midst of the excitement I discovered [food]." - page 1

Growing up I remember my mother's valiant efforts to teach me reasonable eating habits.  Considering that she had her own issues with food, this was more a situation of the blind leading the blind.  Not that she is a compulsive overeater by any means, but she has had a conflicted relationship with food as long as I can remember.  Food was her great love and her great enemy, as she often showed with her almost religious dedication to exercise and dieting.  There wasn't a fad diet or crazy medicine she hadn't tried to help her fight what she saw as her own personal battle of the bulge.  That she never got beyond what someone might call a "normal" weight never mattered.  It was the fear of obesity that rode her back like a pitchforked demon.

So it was with a sense of wonder and awe that I discovered my first weeks in college that there was no one watching me.  No one cared what I ate or didn't eat.  I could binge on Fruit Loops for dinner and no one would even blink!  I had a cafeteria with a wealth of junk food round the clock to cater to my whims and fancies.  I was an adult with my own choices and mistakes to be made, and I discovered food in all its glutenous glory.  I slept at insane hours, shirked my classes as it pleased me, ate what I pleased, spent time with whomever I pleased - I was free at last.

That first semester I gained my freshman fifteen and then some.  I was out the gates and heading headlong into disaster with a smile on my face.

"I was very lonely and again turned to [food]." - page 1

All my life I have had a feeling that there is some part of me that's missing.  It's this gaping hole inside that I have tried to fill with success, love, excitement, sex, food, and even pain during my stint as a cutter. 

I can't say I've gone more than a week without some love interest or another since I was fourteen years old.  In those times when I didn't have some romance to moon over I was despondent.  I would starve myself, vomit up whatever I ate, and exercise like a fiend until I finally attracted a new boyfriend.  And then I would wait until the new rush passed before finding someone new, wait until the new relationship was a guarantee, and then leap between boyfriends.  I stayed with men I was no longer interested in so I would have someone there until I found the replacement because the thought of being alone was too terrible.

When I had my son, I felt like that missing piece had been filled and said "ah ha! This is at last the source of my problem!  I was missing my baby and never even knew it!" With that I promptly quit OA and went on to live my life as a normal person. But nine months later I was back in the program again.  My son does fill my life in ways that I never dreamed possible, but the fact remained that when he was in bed that gaping chasm would open up once more to swallow me whole.  Then I would turn to food once more to help comfort me.

But during those times when I didn't have someone to distract me from the loneliness I would eat and eat and eat.  I would go to multiple drive-thrus, ordering huge quantities of food until I had enough to feed a reasonable person for days.  I would even order extra drinks so that people at the restaurants would think I was ordering for multiple people.  But something tells me that a nearly 300 pound woman ordering multiple burgers, fries, onion rings, and deserts plus a few drinks wasn't going to fool them - especially if they happened to see the three other bags of fast food sitting on my other side.

So I picked food to be my solace all the while hiding away in my lonely little apartment so no one could see me eat away my loneliness.  The bigger I got, the more I turned to food - relationship or no relationship - to ease the emptiness inside.  Even after having had a gastric bypass I'd order food like before and then eat it slowly until all of it was inside my stomach.  I was never able to gain back all my weight, but it wasn't from lack of trying.  I would eat to the point of vomiting, clear my stomach, and then eat again in an unending cycle of binge and loathing. 

I would hate myself before I even started the binge, dread the feelings of misery that would result as I took each bite, but was completely powerless to stop myself. So even as I ordered the food I felt that sense of dread and self-hate, and wished I could just stop those words from coming out of my mouth.   But it was like I was a horrified passenger, along for the ride in my own personal never-ending nightmare.

"I fancied myself a leader . . . . My talent for leadership, I imagined, would place me at the head of vast enterprises which I would manage with the utmost assurance." - page 1

Feeling ugly as a child, I had to find another avenue for self-worth.  To that end, I focused on education as my key to making my family proud of me.  I was blessed that in high school and even in my undergraduate years I was able to excel in honors courses with little hard work.  It was the best of all worlds, bringing me accolades with little real effort.  By the time I decided to go to law school, I saw no reason why this should change. 

Of course I was wrong.  The thing about being at the top of your high school class is that you are the best in your little pond.  There has been no sorting of the students to give you real competition outside of your honors and advanced placement courses.  Then you arrive at college where in theory you are with the top students from high schools around the country.  But then you finish undergraduate studies at the top of your class and believe yourself to be one of the best and the brightest.  And you are.  You are selected for a top law program in the nation and you go there expecting to glide through that program as effortlessly as before.  Except there's one hitch.  You're now among the best of the best in the universities. 

This is a rarefied group where you are no longer a unique snowflake - you are just like everyone else.  And then the real sorting comes down to who is willing to work the hardest, because everyone is of about equal intelligence.  Those who are willing to make the most sacrifices are the ones who will win out in the grade pool.

So it was that after my first semester in law school I discovered that I was in the middle of the pack and in dire need of a place for my first summer internship.  These are already difficult positions to come by - all firms expect you to find something, but no one wants to hire you!  And I then realized that I was no longer a special snowflake, and my intelligence alone was not going to get me to the top of anything.  Unused to having to work hard, I floundered and I began to drown.

My ego took a deathly blow, and with it so too did my waistband.  While I had gained ten pounds from stress that first semester, in the next two years I would go on to gain another sixty pounds.  I went to grad school wearing a size fourteen and left wearing a size 24. 

The bigger I got, the worse my job prospects, and the worse my job prospects the bigger I got.  I tried crazy diets, all liquid diets, medically supervised diets, you name it. Nothing seemed to work!  I dieted and exercised like a fiend, and I don't really recall actually breaking the diets.  I could have sworn that I was giving it my all - exercising what I thought was herculean willpower.  But nothing helped.

I can still remember the day I went to the doctor at age 24 and heard that I would be dead by age 30 unless I got bariatric surgery.  I was reactive hypoglycemic and had what they called Metabolic Syndrome X.  Even if I was able to control my eating, my body was so broken, they said, that I was going to be unable to sustain meaningful weight loss without surgical intervention.  So it was with great remorse that I researched and ultimately had a rou-en y gastric bypass.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

One Thread At A Time

"Weaving the Fabric of Our Lives" - Beyond Our Wildest Dreams, p. 175

"The image of my Higher power lovingly guiding the weaving of my recovery tapestry - spiritual, emotional, and physical - adds to my peace and serenity.  As long as I use the tools . . . my recovery tapestry will not unravel, and I will continue to move forward in my recovery." - Voices of Recovery, p. 8

I remember one of my first outreach calls I made on my current sponsor's instructions.  I kept asking N. about whether I would ever eat bread again, among other things.  She said "I don't know, but not today."  Any time I asked a panicked question about the future, that was her response.  Eventually I took up the same philosophy.  It tracks well with what you hear in meetings and from the readings - recovery happens one day at a time.  All it takes is one day of compulsive overeating and the person who had twenty years of abstinence now has zero days.  It is so easy to slip.

But I love the image of the tapestry.  I read this passage and had the mental image that every day I am abstinent I am adding one more thread to my tapestry.  So I will build my life, my recovery one day and one thread at a time.

Act Accordingly. . .

I heard something great in a phone meeting today:

God gave you two eyes, two ears, and one mouth.  Act accordingly.