The May 4th Voices of Recovery quotes The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous: "All who have experienced the pain of compulsive eating and want to stop are equally welcome here." It goes on to tell the story of a woman who came to the meetings fighting the program. "I had no desire to refrain from compulsively eating. Instead, I wanted to diet. I did not take the suggestions seriously. Tradition Three illustrates the reason for my inability to grasp this program. I wanted the weight loss and even the pleasure of it without having to earn it first. Today when I watch newcomers struggle with the program as I did, I try to show the same compassion and acceptance as those before me."
I remember my first day in Overeaters Anonymous. I came into the rooms believing that I didn't need the program - I was fine. When the woman who shared told my own story, I was shocked. But I decided to sign up. She'd lost all her weight so clearly whatever these people were selling worked. I asked her to sponsor me at break and felt I had put a check in the box to have them wave the magic wand that would fix me.
She told me to read from the Big Book, and I read Bill's Story and put the book down again. Not only did I not relate to the story, but I figured that all the Big Book contained was a collection of people's stories. Why would I bother reading about a bunch of alcoholics when I could sit in a meeting and hear people tell me about their own stories of recovery - and on topic, too!. I was already sold on the program, just get to the good stuff!
That sponsor told me to write down three things I loved about myself every day. I thought it was the dumbest assignment in the world. And yet when I sat down that night I couldn't think of a single thing. Everything I loved had a "yeah, but. . ." attached to it that was a disqualifying factor. I eventually found myself on the phone with another woman I'd met in meeting, sobbing because I couldn't find anything to love about myself.
Eventually I was able to identify a few items - I have a set of freckles on my leg that looks like a happy face; I always have a flower painted on my big-toenails; and I have three freckles on my foot that make a straight line. Each night I came up with three new things - sometimes it was that I loved a dish I cooked, other times it was that I loved knowing how to knit. But each time I failed to understand what the point of this exercise was.
Every time I asked that sponsor why we were bothering with this (get on with the wand waving, already!) she told me we were working on my first step. She asked me to identify trigger foods, so I started cutting out things like soda and coffee. Eventually my "abstinence" was to not eat French fries, doughnuts, or drink coffee and soda. Yet I still binged on sweets and snack foods to my heart's content. So after three months I decided I was wasting my time and left program.
When I came back I decided I could do it on my own. For the first two months back in the rooms I was back to my original "abstinence" - still binging away - and I decided that I could identify my own trigger foods. Since my first sponsor didn't "do anything" for me, I'd sponsor myself!
But through this all, I was just as clueless as that woman was. I wanted the results without the work. I didn't want to surrender to another person. I didn't want to work the steps. I didn't want to change my life. I just wanted the magical fix.
But there is no magical fix. There is a miraculous one - but that requires work to attain.
It wasn't until after I'd gotten another sponsor, surrendered, and gone through my first step that I learned what my first sponsor was doing: she was trying to show me that my life was unmanageable. She was waiting for me to notice just how hard it was for me to find things I loved about myself, and she was waiting for the light bulb to click that maybe, just maybe, whatever it was I was doing to run my life wasn't working. But because I never left the disease, I never was able to see what she was trying to show me.
Today's reading was a good reminder of just how much I struggled as a newcomer, and just how much I need to show compassion to those still suffering from compulsive overeating.
Showing posts with label Ego. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ego. Show all posts
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Finding a Higher Power, Part 1
When I came into program I didn't have a higher power let alone a Higher Power with capital letters. It isn't to say I didn't believe in God. Being an atheist involves a certain measure of faith. While it is impossible to concretely prove the existence of a Higher Power, it is also impossible to concretely disprove the existence of some Higher Power. So the act of being an atheist is as much an act of faith as the belief that Christ is the Son of God or that Buddha obtained enlightenment. And faith was something I was fresh out of. So I was indifferent to the notion that there was a deity out there, but one thing I was most certain of was that any deity that might exist most certainly wasn't interested in me.
So I needed some sort of starting point. I have met people who have chosen non-deity Higher Powers, such as mathematics (no matter how much you dislike the outcome, 2+2 does not equal 5), the laws of physics (gravity is a cruel taskmaster. . .), mother nature (not much you can do if good ol' mother nature decides to drop a tornado on your head at lunch time), the door knob (this seems to be the classic example I hear in meetings, so for a few months I told the door knob on a regular basis what a shit job it was doing running the universe), the ceiling ("I am powerless over whether that ceiling decides to collapse and crush me"), their sponsor (if you have made them your "boss" then you have placed them as a "Higher Power" over you - although this one is a sticky one long term), the people in the OA rooms (this was the route I went with once I stopped thinking that the requirement for a higher power was stupid), a celebrity (I've heard people go with Chuck Norris' beard, Burt Reynolds, Burt Reynolds' moustache, and other such silliness - but guess what: it worked for them), time (you can't stop it and you can't control it), and the universe (we can all agree that the universe exists).
I have heard two things in meetings that have stuck with me. One person who struggled with active atheism was told by his sponsor, "Can you believe that I believe in a Higher Power?" That was a starting point.
The other thing I heard was: "All I need to know about God is that I'm not Him."
In my experience with program there are two stages of the Higher Power proposition. The first is accepting that you are not calling the shots for the universe. There is some force outside of your control deciding that Joe down the street is going to have a heart attack next week, or that there is going to be an earthquake next month, or that you're going to suddenly have the worst food poisoning of your life the day you have a big interview.
The second part of the proposition is learning to trust that somehow things are going to work out for the best. All you need to do is do the footwork (i.e. if you want a promotion then work hard and show up on time, if you want a college degree then enroll and go to your classes, if you don't want food poisoning then don't eat the leftovers growing mold in your fridge, etc.) and let The Great Whatever do the rest.
This second proposition is much harder to reach. It involves not only the understanding that you aren't in control of the world, but surrendering to whatever is. And us addicts hate surrendering anything. It is the difference between deciding to sky dive and actually jumping out of the plane. In my experience you can't force this part - it just comes with time.
But for today, you don't need to be at that second part of the proposition. All you need to do today is reach the point where you know that "I'm not Him/Her." And that isn't a hard point to reach. On an intellectual level, most of us know that we didn't create the universe. (Those that don't know this have much bigger troubles than compulsive overeating.)
But the most important thing about finding a Higher Power is understanding that it really doesn't matter if that Higher Power actually exists. What matters is that you act as if you believe one does. My sponsor once shared in a meeting that she didn't know if there really was a Higher Power out there. But even if there was nothing - well, nothing was sure doing a better job running her life than she did.
So I needed some sort of starting point. I have met people who have chosen non-deity Higher Powers, such as mathematics (no matter how much you dislike the outcome, 2+2 does not equal 5), the laws of physics (gravity is a cruel taskmaster. . .), mother nature (not much you can do if good ol' mother nature decides to drop a tornado on your head at lunch time), the door knob (this seems to be the classic example I hear in meetings, so for a few months I told the door knob on a regular basis what a shit job it was doing running the universe), the ceiling ("I am powerless over whether that ceiling decides to collapse and crush me"), their sponsor (if you have made them your "boss" then you have placed them as a "Higher Power" over you - although this one is a sticky one long term), the people in the OA rooms (this was the route I went with once I stopped thinking that the requirement for a higher power was stupid), a celebrity (I've heard people go with Chuck Norris' beard, Burt Reynolds, Burt Reynolds' moustache, and other such silliness - but guess what: it worked for them), time (you can't stop it and you can't control it), and the universe (we can all agree that the universe exists).
I have heard two things in meetings that have stuck with me. One person who struggled with active atheism was told by his sponsor, "Can you believe that I believe in a Higher Power?" That was a starting point.
The other thing I heard was: "All I need to know about God is that I'm not Him."
In my experience with program there are two stages of the Higher Power proposition. The first is accepting that you are not calling the shots for the universe. There is some force outside of your control deciding that Joe down the street is going to have a heart attack next week, or that there is going to be an earthquake next month, or that you're going to suddenly have the worst food poisoning of your life the day you have a big interview.
The second part of the proposition is learning to trust that somehow things are going to work out for the best. All you need to do is do the footwork (i.e. if you want a promotion then work hard and show up on time, if you want a college degree then enroll and go to your classes, if you don't want food poisoning then don't eat the leftovers growing mold in your fridge, etc.) and let The Great Whatever do the rest.
This second proposition is much harder to reach. It involves not only the understanding that you aren't in control of the world, but surrendering to whatever is. And us addicts hate surrendering anything. It is the difference between deciding to sky dive and actually jumping out of the plane. In my experience you can't force this part - it just comes with time.
But for today, you don't need to be at that second part of the proposition. All you need to do today is reach the point where you know that "I'm not Him/Her." And that isn't a hard point to reach. On an intellectual level, most of us know that we didn't create the universe. (Those that don't know this have much bigger troubles than compulsive overeating.)
But the most important thing about finding a Higher Power is understanding that it really doesn't matter if that Higher Power actually exists. What matters is that you act as if you believe one does. My sponsor once shared in a meeting that she didn't know if there really was a Higher Power out there. But even if there was nothing - well, nothing was sure doing a better job running her life than she did.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Do You Know Who You Are?
I watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy that posed three questions. The patient was a man who had been paralyzed from neck down in an accident. The doctor was asking if he wished to be taken off of life support as he would never be able to live without machines to breathe for him. To confirm that he wished to be taken off of the machines he was asked three questions:
Do you know who you are?
Do you know what's happened to you?
Do you want to live this way?
It shocked me just how appropriate these questions were for a compulsive overeater. Really, for any addict. Before program the answer to all those questions was a resounding no.
I didn't know who I was. Indeed, I spent nearly every waking moment trying to avoid figuring that out. I ate, I drank, I played excessive video games, I read, I did anything and everything to not think about who I was.
I didn't know what had happened to me. I woke up one day and I was 305 pounds. Sure I saw myself getting larger and larger, but somehow it still snuck up on me. I kept expecting that tomorrow would be different - tomorrow I'd find the will to change. Tomorrow I'd eat healthy and exercise. I'd suddenly know how to act and be like other people. But tomorrow never came. So I got a gastric bypass. I lost the weight but it came right back on. And again tomorrow never came.
The only thing I knew before program was that I didn't want to live this way. I couldn't live this way. I was hopeless. I was desperate. I was completely unwilling to surrender my life and will to the care of a power greater than myself. It took the complete and total annihilation of my willingness to live before I was able to put down the reigns and hand over control.
That day I waved the white flag and got a sponsor. That's when the miracle happened. How different today is. I went from 305 pounds down to the 169 pounds I weighed today (and I'm still losing). I went from a size 24 to a size 10. A size XXXL to a size M. I went from constantly depressed and angry to a genuinely happy, optimistic person. My life has never been better.
I now can confidently answer all three of those questions with a yes. I discovered that the answer was surrender. Sweet, simple surrender.
Do you know who you are?
Do you know what's happened to you?
Do you want to live this way?
It shocked me just how appropriate these questions were for a compulsive overeater. Really, for any addict. Before program the answer to all those questions was a resounding no.
I didn't know who I was. Indeed, I spent nearly every waking moment trying to avoid figuring that out. I ate, I drank, I played excessive video games, I read, I did anything and everything to not think about who I was.
I didn't know what had happened to me. I woke up one day and I was 305 pounds. Sure I saw myself getting larger and larger, but somehow it still snuck up on me. I kept expecting that tomorrow would be different - tomorrow I'd find the will to change. Tomorrow I'd eat healthy and exercise. I'd suddenly know how to act and be like other people. But tomorrow never came. So I got a gastric bypass. I lost the weight but it came right back on. And again tomorrow never came.
The only thing I knew before program was that I didn't want to live this way. I couldn't live this way. I was hopeless. I was desperate. I was completely unwilling to surrender my life and will to the care of a power greater than myself. It took the complete and total annihilation of my willingness to live before I was able to put down the reigns and hand over control.
That day I waved the white flag and got a sponsor. That's when the miracle happened. How different today is. I went from 305 pounds down to the 169 pounds I weighed today (and I'm still losing). I went from a size 24 to a size 10. A size XXXL to a size M. I went from constantly depressed and angry to a genuinely happy, optimistic person. My life has never been better.
I now can confidently answer all three of those questions with a yes. I discovered that the answer was surrender. Sweet, simple surrender.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Why Sponsoring Yourself Fails and Facing Relapse
After a span of 15 months of solid abstinence, I slipped. I have plenty of excuses for why it happened. I was exhausted. I was distracted. But the fact remains that my 2-year-old son left part of a cookie on the floor. I was cleaning up the assortment of cheerios, pretzels, fruit snacks, grapes, and other detritus he'd dropped on the floor that afternoon when I picked up a piece of cookie and popped it in my mouth.
Had it stopped there, I may have salvaged my abstinence. But once the cookie piece was in my mouth the curious insanity set in. "It's already in my mouth, I might as well eat it." We all have moments where we pop a food item in our mouth unthinking. When this has happened to me in the past, I have spit out the food item and told my sponsor about it. Well this time I was between sponsors - meaning I was my own sponsor. I'll give you a hint - sponsoring yourself doesn't work. Because you see, as my own sponsor, I told myself, "It's already in your mouth, you might as well eat it."
It was a slippery slide from there. I bought my boyfriend a box of doughnuts. My son took one and was done with it. Well I wrapped it in a napkin and threw it away. In a weak moment, I figured out that I had enough calories left in my daily budget to eat that doughnut. Since it had been carefully wrapped before finding its way into the trash can, I figured it was fair game to eat. Never mind that my baseline abstinence is no flour, no sugar, no compulsive eating behaviors (i.e., eating off the floor and pulling items out of the trash can). I counted that as an abstinent treat because I budgeted for it in my calories. I hadn't felt triggered by the cookie, and that doughnut hadn't set me off on a binge, so clearly I could handle flour and sugar again. But to be safe I wouldn't eat any breads or salty treats - that might not go over as well. I was the man who believed it safe to drink whiskey with his milk from the Big Book.
The next thing I knew, a few days later I went to the store and purchased six more doughnuts. I budgeted them into my calories but wound up eating them all in one day. So instead of a calorie cap for a day, I started using my calorie cap for the week. I ate all six doughnuts, but now I was struggling to find a way to control my calories for the week. Well then I started to look at my "average calories on plan" - this is something in my calorie counting application that tells me how many calories I typically am over or under budget per day over the span of my tracking period. Now I figured as long as I averaged out being under calories I'd be fine. So I bought and ate a dozen doughnuts over the course of two days.
When I got on the scale I discovered that in three weeks I had managed to gain eight pounds by steadily eating up the calorie deficits that I'd spent three months accumulating. It was time to face the music. I knew that my abstinence had been broken and I was in relapse. So I did what any compulsive eater would do. I went to the grocery store, picked up about $50 worth of binge foods, and took them home. My son sat with me as I ate two Twinkies, a Hostess cupcake, a store made chocolate chip cookie, and about 9 Oreos. (While eating I discovered they no longer tasted that good, much to my disappointment.)
It was then my son's bed time. I got up to give him a bath and discovered I felt buzzed. Being an alcoholic, I used to laugh when people described getting a buzz from food, but I honestly felt like I'd been drinking a bottle or two of wine. I had a strong buzz. I got sober when I got abstinent, so the two had always overlapped. Now I knew that I was feeling that sugar high people spoke about. I was high and I hated the feeling. I gave my son a bath feeling completely numbed out and disconnected. It was like life had lost its color, and I didn't want any more of that feeling. I spent so many days wishing for sweet oblivion while I went through the pain of writing my fourth step, and here I was with that sweet oblivion and I discovered there was nothing sweet about it.
So I put my son in bed and proceeded to throw out the rest of the binge foods. I then picked up the phone and asked someone to be my sponsor.
When I first came into program I was suicidal and so desperate for help that handing my life over to the care of my sponsor was an incredible relief. This time I wasn't holding the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was living my life working the steps. I was doing daily 10th steps. I was praying and meditating. I was saying the serenity prayer when things got difficult. What I wasn't doing was being honest with myself. As soon as that honest appraisal happened, I did the most amazing thing: I picked up the phone and used my tools. I surrendered without the feeling that the world was crushing me. For this gift of willingness I can only thank my Higher Power, because with my pride there is no doubt in my mind that I didn't surrender on my own. I heard in meeting tonight that when we stop listening to God's whispers, he starts throwing bricks. God had to throw skyscrapers before I came into the rooms and got abstinent. Yet somehow I listened to the whisper over the roar of the food.
One of the horror stories we "grow up with" in program is the story of the person in relapse. When you go out, you never know how long it's going to take you to come back in. The fear of relapse is what kept me from acknowledging it for so long, because I had a fear-driven belief that relapse meant that I would gain all my weight back and more. I'm down 135 pounds from my top weight. That is a long road of pain and heart ache that I saw stretched before me.
Those stories gave me the idea that relapse was a creature with a mind of its own. I would be hijacked by my disease, helpless to stop the weight gain. I'd lose everything I'd gained in program, and gain everything I'd lost whether I wanted to or not! And yet I have four days of abstinence. The food speaks to me, but when the food talks to me, I talk to my sponsor. I make outreach calls. I do readings. I go to meetings. I am doing all those things I did before relapse when the food got loud. And I am ending each day abstinent. I will admit that I want to go back for more doughnuts. That's fine to say and fine to feel. But I don't have to act on those feelings and thoughts. As long as I let myself be guided by my Higher Power working through my sponsor, I can choose abstinence.
Today's For Today Workbook posed the question: "When has believing in the possibility of being abstinent enabled me to stay the course to better times?" The answer is: today! When I first got abstinent my sponsor told me that I didn't have to worry about tomorrow or next week or next year. All I had to worry about is today. For today, I can do anything. So when the craving for that doughnut hit me, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and whispered to myself: "Not today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today." It was the mantra I used before relapse, and it worked just as well today as it did then. The anxiety, the panic, the craving settled down. Because I don't have to worry about tomorrow. I believe I can follow my meal plan today. I can't tell you about tomorrow or next week or next year, but for today, I can be abstinent.
A friend of mine with over twenty years of abstinence once told me that he really only has one day: today. And for today, I've discovered that I can believe in abstinence. I don't have to surrender to relapse. I'm a compulsive overeater. I am powerless over food and my life is unmanageable. It is the first step, and it's just as true day one abstinent as it is day 500 or 5,000. I can't. God can. I think I'll let God.
Had it stopped there, I may have salvaged my abstinence. But once the cookie piece was in my mouth the curious insanity set in. "It's already in my mouth, I might as well eat it." We all have moments where we pop a food item in our mouth unthinking. When this has happened to me in the past, I have spit out the food item and told my sponsor about it. Well this time I was between sponsors - meaning I was my own sponsor. I'll give you a hint - sponsoring yourself doesn't work. Because you see, as my own sponsor, I told myself, "It's already in your mouth, you might as well eat it."
It was a slippery slide from there. I bought my boyfriend a box of doughnuts. My son took one and was done with it. Well I wrapped it in a napkin and threw it away. In a weak moment, I figured out that I had enough calories left in my daily budget to eat that doughnut. Since it had been carefully wrapped before finding its way into the trash can, I figured it was fair game to eat. Never mind that my baseline abstinence is no flour, no sugar, no compulsive eating behaviors (i.e., eating off the floor and pulling items out of the trash can). I counted that as an abstinent treat because I budgeted for it in my calories. I hadn't felt triggered by the cookie, and that doughnut hadn't set me off on a binge, so clearly I could handle flour and sugar again. But to be safe I wouldn't eat any breads or salty treats - that might not go over as well. I was the man who believed it safe to drink whiskey with his milk from the Big Book.
The next thing I knew, a few days later I went to the store and purchased six more doughnuts. I budgeted them into my calories but wound up eating them all in one day. So instead of a calorie cap for a day, I started using my calorie cap for the week. I ate all six doughnuts, but now I was struggling to find a way to control my calories for the week. Well then I started to look at my "average calories on plan" - this is something in my calorie counting application that tells me how many calories I typically am over or under budget per day over the span of my tracking period. Now I figured as long as I averaged out being under calories I'd be fine. So I bought and ate a dozen doughnuts over the course of two days.
When I got on the scale I discovered that in three weeks I had managed to gain eight pounds by steadily eating up the calorie deficits that I'd spent three months accumulating. It was time to face the music. I knew that my abstinence had been broken and I was in relapse. So I did what any compulsive eater would do. I went to the grocery store, picked up about $50 worth of binge foods, and took them home. My son sat with me as I ate two Twinkies, a Hostess cupcake, a store made chocolate chip cookie, and about 9 Oreos. (While eating I discovered they no longer tasted that good, much to my disappointment.)
It was then my son's bed time. I got up to give him a bath and discovered I felt buzzed. Being an alcoholic, I used to laugh when people described getting a buzz from food, but I honestly felt like I'd been drinking a bottle or two of wine. I had a strong buzz. I got sober when I got abstinent, so the two had always overlapped. Now I knew that I was feeling that sugar high people spoke about. I was high and I hated the feeling. I gave my son a bath feeling completely numbed out and disconnected. It was like life had lost its color, and I didn't want any more of that feeling. I spent so many days wishing for sweet oblivion while I went through the pain of writing my fourth step, and here I was with that sweet oblivion and I discovered there was nothing sweet about it.
So I put my son in bed and proceeded to throw out the rest of the binge foods. I then picked up the phone and asked someone to be my sponsor.
When I first came into program I was suicidal and so desperate for help that handing my life over to the care of my sponsor was an incredible relief. This time I wasn't holding the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was living my life working the steps. I was doing daily 10th steps. I was praying and meditating. I was saying the serenity prayer when things got difficult. What I wasn't doing was being honest with myself. As soon as that honest appraisal happened, I did the most amazing thing: I picked up the phone and used my tools. I surrendered without the feeling that the world was crushing me. For this gift of willingness I can only thank my Higher Power, because with my pride there is no doubt in my mind that I didn't surrender on my own. I heard in meeting tonight that when we stop listening to God's whispers, he starts throwing bricks. God had to throw skyscrapers before I came into the rooms and got abstinent. Yet somehow I listened to the whisper over the roar of the food.
One of the horror stories we "grow up with" in program is the story of the person in relapse. When you go out, you never know how long it's going to take you to come back in. The fear of relapse is what kept me from acknowledging it for so long, because I had a fear-driven belief that relapse meant that I would gain all my weight back and more. I'm down 135 pounds from my top weight. That is a long road of pain and heart ache that I saw stretched before me.
Those stories gave me the idea that relapse was a creature with a mind of its own. I would be hijacked by my disease, helpless to stop the weight gain. I'd lose everything I'd gained in program, and gain everything I'd lost whether I wanted to or not! And yet I have four days of abstinence. The food speaks to me, but when the food talks to me, I talk to my sponsor. I make outreach calls. I do readings. I go to meetings. I am doing all those things I did before relapse when the food got loud. And I am ending each day abstinent. I will admit that I want to go back for more doughnuts. That's fine to say and fine to feel. But I don't have to act on those feelings and thoughts. As long as I let myself be guided by my Higher Power working through my sponsor, I can choose abstinence.
Today's For Today Workbook posed the question: "When has believing in the possibility of being abstinent enabled me to stay the course to better times?" The answer is: today! When I first got abstinent my sponsor told me that I didn't have to worry about tomorrow or next week or next year. All I had to worry about is today. For today, I can do anything. So when the craving for that doughnut hit me, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and whispered to myself: "Not today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today." It was the mantra I used before relapse, and it worked just as well today as it did then. The anxiety, the panic, the craving settled down. Because I don't have to worry about tomorrow. I believe I can follow my meal plan today. I can't tell you about tomorrow or next week or next year, but for today, I can be abstinent.
A friend of mine with over twenty years of abstinence once told me that he really only has one day: today. And for today, I've discovered that I can believe in abstinence. I don't have to surrender to relapse. I'm a compulsive overeater. I am powerless over food and my life is unmanageable. It is the first step, and it's just as true day one abstinent as it is day 500 or 5,000. I can't. God can. I think I'll let God.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
12 Steps to Total and Complete Insanity
[A spoof on the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. . .and oh so true!]
- 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.
- Came to believe that there was no power greater than ourselves, and the rest of the world was insane.
- Made a decision to have our loved ones and friends turn their wills and their lives over to our care.
- Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of everyone we knew.
- Admitted to the whole world at large the exact nature of their wrongs.
- Were entirely ready to make others straighten up and do right.
- Demanded others to either "shape up or ship out".
- Made a list of anyone who had ever harmed us and became willing to go to any lengths to get even with them all.
- 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.
- Continued to take inventory of others, and when they were wrong promptly and repeatedly told them about it.
- 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.
- 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
Monday, February 25, 2013
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, thebig, 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.
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
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."
"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."
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
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)
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.
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.
Monday, February 4, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, January 14, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Old Timer's Prayer
I came across this prayer while reading a really neat blog my sponsor told me about - Mr. Sponsorpants
Lord, keep me from the habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.
OLD TIMER'S PRAYER
Lord, keep me from the habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.
Release me
from the craving to straighten out everybody's affairs.
Keep my mind free from
the recital of endless details - give me wings to get to the point.
I ask for
the grace to listen to the tales of others pains. Help me to endure them in
patience.
But seal my lips on my own aches and pains - they are increasing and
my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.
Teach me the
glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.
Keep me
reasonably sweet. I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so hard to live
with - but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.
Give me
the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected
people. And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.
Make me thoughtful, but
not moody; helpful, but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity
not to use it all - but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends in the
end.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
God's Messengers
"Sponsors, OA friends, meetings, and literature are wonerful sources of help for us. We wouldn't want to be without any of these resources because we often find God speaks to us through them." - The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous, p. 98
"God speaks to me through other people, especially my sponsor, when I listen." - Voices of Recovery, p. 362
I laughed a bit when I read today's Voices of Recovery. This is my last step of program work before I go to bed. I've done any journaling I am going to do. Attended all meetings I'm going to attend. Made all my calls. Done all my readings. And now, I read my Voices of Recovery, write a quick little response about it, and snuggle up for a night of peaceful rest [baby permitting]. Today, my journaling was on the way that the meeting and the readings today spoke to me about the very things which had been weighing on my mind the past day.
The past weeks the Big Book study group I attend on Thursday nights has been talking about how to approach and speak to a person who is interested in the program. At the time I remember thinking that I wouldn't need to read this chapter for a long time, thinking that I wished we were talking about something that actually applied to me and applied to me now. But as usual, God knew best. Yesterday I was in a position where I would need the exact passages that we read in the study meeting I attended.
All my life I kept asking and asking for God to give me faith. For God to let me know the answer to this question or that. I wonder how many times he was trying to answer, but I just wasn't listening.
"God speaks to me through other people, especially my sponsor, when I listen." - Voices of Recovery, p. 362
I laughed a bit when I read today's Voices of Recovery. This is my last step of program work before I go to bed. I've done any journaling I am going to do. Attended all meetings I'm going to attend. Made all my calls. Done all my readings. And now, I read my Voices of Recovery, write a quick little response about it, and snuggle up for a night of peaceful rest [baby permitting]. Today, my journaling was on the way that the meeting and the readings today spoke to me about the very things which had been weighing on my mind the past day.
The past weeks the Big Book study group I attend on Thursday nights has been talking about how to approach and speak to a person who is interested in the program. At the time I remember thinking that I wouldn't need to read this chapter for a long time, thinking that I wished we were talking about something that actually applied to me and applied to me now. But as usual, God knew best. Yesterday I was in a position where I would need the exact passages that we read in the study meeting I attended.
All my life I kept asking and asking for God to give me faith. For God to let me know the answer to this question or that. I wonder how many times he was trying to answer, but I just wasn't listening.
God and the Willingness to be Willing
Today I sat in on a phone meeting that I normally would not have attended because I am going to be having [abstinent] dinner with family friends. So it came as a surprise that the meeting topic was something that had been on my mind all day: the willingness to be willing.
To go back a step, I want to talk a bit about my abstinence. I love my sponsor, and I love my program. When I came into program this second time I wanted to be in the driver's seat. I saw the program as a tool that I could use in building my own recovery. But after 2 months of being abstinent with my own program and not seeing any improvement, I realized that I couldn't do this alone.
So I told myself I couldn't just wait for the right sponsor to drop into my lap. I would pick up the first sponsor I could and just run with it until I found my perfect sponsor. The very next meeting I attended, my sponsor's close friend was the speaker. I listened to his story and thought he was really wonderful. He had so many good, helpful things to share. And my sponsor, who was present to support her friend, stood up to identify herself as a person who sponsors. It was perfect timing. The best way to describe it is that I got good vibes from her. She was lovely, slender, older than me (but not by much), and I just had a natural inclination to like her (and have since discovered that she is warm, loving, supportive, and funny as well - I hit sponsor gold). My gut instinct said "yes please." So I approached her at the break and she started to tell me a bit about her program, promising to go over it the next day with me on the phone.
When I heard just how strict my abstinence program would be, my first thought was complete and utter horror. I didn't want to hand over control! I wanted someone who I would be accountable to, not someone who wanted to run the show! I wasn't ready for this, and my husband wasn't ready for the craziness to start right before our vacation. So I put it off until we got back.
Knowing I'd be starting fresh at day 1 as a beginner, I went on that vacation and thought "what the hell, screw my abstinence. I don't get credit for it anyway!" (Because, of course, abstinence only counts if someone is watching. . .) And I went wild. It was the last hurrah of last hurrahs. I ate myself silly and managed to gain nearly ten pounds that week. By the time I got back, I was finally defeated. I'd been miserable letting my disease drive, and I didn't know how I could stop! I needed help and I was finally ready to surrender. The phrase "willing to go to any length" suddenly had real meaning for me: I would do anything to not live in the state of compulsive overeating torture one more day.
It turns out that my sponsor is exactly what I needed. I discovered that surrendering my food to her was the only way I would find sanity. My sponsor arrived in my life at the exact moment I needed her, in the exact manner I needed her to, and with the exact program I needed. It was thinking about her that I was able to make the connection to God. I'd always had a notion that a God was out there, but I'd never felt he took any particular interest in individuals. But realizing the serendipity of meeting my sponsor, I suddenly knew that God had put her there for me to find. He'd heard my prayer and he'd answered it just when I needed it most. He knew what and when and how - and He made it happen just right.
Well fast forward through seventeen blissful abstinent days living on the pink cloud and I am speaking to a beloved family friend. She is desperate to return to program, and she told me how she needs a sponsor. Well, she asked me about my program, so I told her what my days are like. Immediately she began to go through the same objections that rose to my mind: she didn't want to hand over the steering wheel. She wanted to be driving her own recovery. But that wasn't true - she wanted to have a reasonable abstinence, just a different one from my own.
So when I left her house I made a call to my sponsor and my three outreach people, leaving a message to ask them to keep an eye out for a sponsor with the characteristics my friend was looking for. Even if she never picks up the phone or doesn't pick up the phone to call the people I find for her any time in the next X number of months or years, I'll have done my best to help her find the help she wants. I also gave her the information on how to find online and phone meetings [since she is often too depressed to leave the house].
But the first thought that went through my head was that she was not willing to go to any lengths for her recovery. She wasn't willing to be willing. And this thought has been stewing with me ever since. Just like no two people are the same, no two recoveries are either. So who am I to doubt her. Maybe she is ready, she just needs something different than I do. There is nothing wrong with that. There is no one right answer. As yesterday's Voices of Recovery pointed out, the problem is within. No one has the answers, they don't even know the question.
I am far too ready to look into other people's lives and other people's recoveries and think about what it is they should be doing. But I am not in charge of their lives or their recoveries. That's God's job, not mine. There was a great quote from my Thursday night meeting: "The only thing I need to know about God is I'm not Him."
So while I'm thinking that she isn't willing to surrender, that her ego is going to get in the way unless she finds that willingness - I realized that I am showing that same ego I was internally accusing her of displaying. Here I stand with my whopping seventeen days of abstinence feeling so high and mighty and proud of myself. Like I have all the answers and have found the cure. In reality, I should be the one eating humble pie!
Listening to the readings in that meeting tonight, as well as the shares, helped me realize what was bothering me about the situation with my friend. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her, it was that there was something wrong with me. I thought I was doing good by trying to be of service to her - helping her locate a potential sponsor and find meetings. Being supportive of her and explaining that there are many ways of finding abstinence, not just my own. But deep down I was being prideful. It was my pride that was making the gesture feel hollow, not the doubts about her ability or willingness to accept the help. My sponsor assigned supplemental readings to deal with my issues with my in-laws, but it applied to this problem as well.
What keeps striking me is the random luck of my meetings. It always seems like these meetings cover exactly the subjects I am needing that day. It just makes me realize that God is talking to me, I just need to stop talking and listen.
I realized that I'm willing to let God run the show in my own recovery, but I need to be willing to be willing to let God do the rest of his job. Because if I can't manage my own life, I have no business managing anyone elses life either!
To go back a step, I want to talk a bit about my abstinence. I love my sponsor, and I love my program. When I came into program this second time I wanted to be in the driver's seat. I saw the program as a tool that I could use in building my own recovery. But after 2 months of being abstinent with my own program and not seeing any improvement, I realized that I couldn't do this alone.
So I told myself I couldn't just wait for the right sponsor to drop into my lap. I would pick up the first sponsor I could and just run with it until I found my perfect sponsor. The very next meeting I attended, my sponsor's close friend was the speaker. I listened to his story and thought he was really wonderful. He had so many good, helpful things to share. And my sponsor, who was present to support her friend, stood up to identify herself as a person who sponsors. It was perfect timing. The best way to describe it is that I got good vibes from her. She was lovely, slender, older than me (but not by much), and I just had a natural inclination to like her (and have since discovered that she is warm, loving, supportive, and funny as well - I hit sponsor gold). My gut instinct said "yes please." So I approached her at the break and she started to tell me a bit about her program, promising to go over it the next day with me on the phone.
When I heard just how strict my abstinence program would be, my first thought was complete and utter horror. I didn't want to hand over control! I wanted someone who I would be accountable to, not someone who wanted to run the show! I wasn't ready for this, and my husband wasn't ready for the craziness to start right before our vacation. So I put it off until we got back.
Knowing I'd be starting fresh at day 1 as a beginner, I went on that vacation and thought "what the hell, screw my abstinence. I don't get credit for it anyway!" (Because, of course, abstinence only counts if someone is watching. . .) And I went wild. It was the last hurrah of last hurrahs. I ate myself silly and managed to gain nearly ten pounds that week. By the time I got back, I was finally defeated. I'd been miserable letting my disease drive, and I didn't know how I could stop! I needed help and I was finally ready to surrender. The phrase "willing to go to any length" suddenly had real meaning for me: I would do anything to not live in the state of compulsive overeating torture one more day.
It turns out that my sponsor is exactly what I needed. I discovered that surrendering my food to her was the only way I would find sanity. My sponsor arrived in my life at the exact moment I needed her, in the exact manner I needed her to, and with the exact program I needed. It was thinking about her that I was able to make the connection to God. I'd always had a notion that a God was out there, but I'd never felt he took any particular interest in individuals. But realizing the serendipity of meeting my sponsor, I suddenly knew that God had put her there for me to find. He'd heard my prayer and he'd answered it just when I needed it most. He knew what and when and how - and He made it happen just right.
Well fast forward through seventeen blissful abstinent days living on the pink cloud and I am speaking to a beloved family friend. She is desperate to return to program, and she told me how she needs a sponsor. Well, she asked me about my program, so I told her what my days are like. Immediately she began to go through the same objections that rose to my mind: she didn't want to hand over the steering wheel. She wanted to be driving her own recovery. But that wasn't true - she wanted to have a reasonable abstinence, just a different one from my own.
So when I left her house I made a call to my sponsor and my three outreach people, leaving a message to ask them to keep an eye out for a sponsor with the characteristics my friend was looking for. Even if she never picks up the phone or doesn't pick up the phone to call the people I find for her any time in the next X number of months or years, I'll have done my best to help her find the help she wants. I also gave her the information on how to find online and phone meetings [since she is often too depressed to leave the house].
But the first thought that went through my head was that she was not willing to go to any lengths for her recovery. She wasn't willing to be willing. And this thought has been stewing with me ever since. Just like no two people are the same, no two recoveries are either. So who am I to doubt her. Maybe she is ready, she just needs something different than I do. There is nothing wrong with that. There is no one right answer. As yesterday's Voices of Recovery pointed out, the problem is within. No one has the answers, they don't even know the question.
I am far too ready to look into other people's lives and other people's recoveries and think about what it is they should be doing. But I am not in charge of their lives or their recoveries. That's God's job, not mine. There was a great quote from my Thursday night meeting: "The only thing I need to know about God is I'm not Him."
So while I'm thinking that she isn't willing to surrender, that her ego is going to get in the way unless she finds that willingness - I realized that I am showing that same ego I was internally accusing her of displaying. Here I stand with my whopping seventeen days of abstinence feeling so high and mighty and proud of myself. Like I have all the answers and have found the cure. In reality, I should be the one eating humble pie!
Listening to the readings in that meeting tonight, as well as the shares, helped me realize what was bothering me about the situation with my friend. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her, it was that there was something wrong with me. I thought I was doing good by trying to be of service to her - helping her locate a potential sponsor and find meetings. Being supportive of her and explaining that there are many ways of finding abstinence, not just my own. But deep down I was being prideful. It was my pride that was making the gesture feel hollow, not the doubts about her ability or willingness to accept the help. My sponsor assigned supplemental readings to deal with my issues with my in-laws, but it applied to this problem as well.
What keeps striking me is the random luck of my meetings. It always seems like these meetings cover exactly the subjects I am needing that day. It just makes me realize that God is talking to me, I just need to stop talking and listen.
I realized that I'm willing to let God run the show in my own recovery, but I need to be willing to be willing to let God do the rest of his job. Because if I can't manage my own life, I have no business managing anyone elses life either!
Friday, December 28, 2012
Anonymity
"It is essential that all of us understand and respect anonymity if OA is to survive and we are to find recovery here." - The Twelve steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous, p. 199
Among the "rules" of OA is that we maintain anonymity at the level of press, radio, films, and television. It also means that "I don't place myself above or below anyone else. It reminds me that we are all equal. It tells me that my job is of no importance. What counts is that we are both compulsive overeaters trying to recover through the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous." - Voices of Recovery, p. 362
When I first came into OA, I just nodded and passed on the issue of anonymity. I figured, "well, it may be embarrasing for people to be in these meetings, so promising anonymity is a good way of letting people join in." But the concept of maintaining anonymity in the media boggled my mind. I understood that we could not promote OA, or be spokespeople for OA because this is a fellowship that has no leaders, only people who are serving.
Recently I had been thinking about my grandsponsor. He lost over 350 pounds, and has kept that weight off for at least 3 years I know of, by eating what amounts to El Pollo Loco twice a day every single day. He is a handsome man, tall and slender. It occurred to me that if he went to El Pollo Loco, he could very easily become their Jared the Subway Guy. The press would eat it up! He could make huge amounts of money as a spokesperson for the restaurant! Why doesn't he?
And then I thought about it further. Say he does go through with it. Say he becomes the spokesperson for El Pollo Loco. When the details of his recovery come out under the media attention, it will become apparent that he is a member of OA. This will drag OA into the media. While this will help other sufferers discover the fellowship, it also will bring in a lot of people looking for a quick fix. Meetings would be flooded, including by people from the media. It could disrupt other people's recovery. But much worse on a personal level - my grandsponsor would become a poster boy for OA. This would place him above other compulsive overeaters in the program.
My grandsponsor has his own sponsor. He is working this program one day at a time just like everyone else. Were he to go on and "out himself" to the media, he suddenly would be placing himself above the other OA people. This would make it difficult if not impossible for him to continue working his program. The need for anonymity isn't just to protect the program, and those who feel uncomfortable with others knowing of their participation. It also protects the person who is seeking the spotlight.
Among the "rules" of OA is that we maintain anonymity at the level of press, radio, films, and television. It also means that "I don't place myself above or below anyone else. It reminds me that we are all equal. It tells me that my job is of no importance. What counts is that we are both compulsive overeaters trying to recover through the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous." - Voices of Recovery, p. 362
When I first came into OA, I just nodded and passed on the issue of anonymity. I figured, "well, it may be embarrasing for people to be in these meetings, so promising anonymity is a good way of letting people join in." But the concept of maintaining anonymity in the media boggled my mind. I understood that we could not promote OA, or be spokespeople for OA because this is a fellowship that has no leaders, only people who are serving.
Recently I had been thinking about my grandsponsor. He lost over 350 pounds, and has kept that weight off for at least 3 years I know of, by eating what amounts to El Pollo Loco twice a day every single day. He is a handsome man, tall and slender. It occurred to me that if he went to El Pollo Loco, he could very easily become their Jared the Subway Guy. The press would eat it up! He could make huge amounts of money as a spokesperson for the restaurant! Why doesn't he?
And then I thought about it further. Say he does go through with it. Say he becomes the spokesperson for El Pollo Loco. When the details of his recovery come out under the media attention, it will become apparent that he is a member of OA. This will drag OA into the media. While this will help other sufferers discover the fellowship, it also will bring in a lot of people looking for a quick fix. Meetings would be flooded, including by people from the media. It could disrupt other people's recovery. But much worse on a personal level - my grandsponsor would become a poster boy for OA. This would place him above other compulsive overeaters in the program.
My grandsponsor has his own sponsor. He is working this program one day at a time just like everyone else. Were he to go on and "out himself" to the media, he suddenly would be placing himself above the other OA people. This would make it difficult if not impossible for him to continue working his program. The need for anonymity isn't just to protect the program, and those who feel uncomfortable with others knowing of their participation. It also protects the person who is seeking the spotlight.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Preface - xxx-xxxii
The Doctor's Opinion
"These men were not [eating] to escape; they were [eating] to overcome a craving beyond their mental control." - pg. xxx
A lot of people associate binge eating with emotional comforting. But I found, especially when the cravings were hitting me bad, that it didn't seem to be any particularly emotional or stressful time that was causing me to eat. This was not the "I just got dumped" ice cream binge. I tried to find justifications for the eating - I worked hard today so this is my reward, or I didn't get a lot of sleep so I'm eating to make up for being so tired, or I'm eating because I'm bored. But the reality often was that I was eating because I constantly was thinking about food. It had nothing to do with what was going on around me, but everything to do with the fact that I woke up thinking about food and spent the whole day fantasizing about what I was going to eat. Then when it came time to eat I couldn't pick what I was going to eat so I ate it all. Sometimes I ate to spite my parents, or to reward myself. Often I ate even when I didn't want to because I just couldn't seem to stop myself!
"There is the type of man who is unwilling to admit that he cannot take a drink. He plans various ways of drinking. He changes his brand or his environment." - pg. xxx
I think for a while this was me. I used to say I didn't have an eating problem - I just needed to try a different diet. Once I got on the right diet I would stick to it and I would lose the weight and there wouldn't be a problem because if I gained a few pounds I'd just hop right back on. But that's just not the case.
"There is the type who always believes that after being entirely free from [compulsive eating] for a period of time he can take a [bite] without danger." - pg. xxx
This was me after my first stint with OA. I remember that after having had my son, I thought I was fine. I was losing weight while nursing and instead of thinking about food all day I was thinking about my baby and about how badly I wanted to sleep. I thought I was cured! Whatever chemical defect caused the binging was clearly fixed now that my body had "reset itself" with the pregnancy and I could live the life of a normal person again. Yeah right.
"Then there are types entirely normal in every respect except in the effect [food] has upon them. They are often able, intelligent, friendly people." - pg. xxx
This is probably me now. I understand I have a problem. I understand that I need to stay away from compulsive eating behaviors - I just can't do it alone.
"This phenomenon, as we have suggested, may be the manifestation of an allergy which differentiates these people, and sets them apart as a distinct entity. It has never been, by any treatment with which we are familiar, permanently eradicated. The only relief we have to suggest is entire abstinence." - pg. xxx
This is the cruel joke of food addictions. You can live without alcohol. You can live without nicotine. You can live without heroine or cocaine or meth. But you can't live without food. I once thought I would be fine if they could just feed me through an IV. That would be perfect, or so I thought. I'd never have to worry about what I ate and I would always get the exact nutrition I needed. Except that isn't going to work. Abstinence in OA terms is such a varying concept from person to person. I heard a speaker say that their abstinence is reporting their food truthfully in an email to their sponsor. Another person has a list of items he cannot eat. My abstinence now involves eating a specific meal plan every single day. There is no one "entire abstinence" that we can sign on for and be fixed. All we can do is try our best to pick our sponsor and pick our abstinence and hope it makes a difference for us.
"He had lost everything worthwhile in life and was only living, one might say, to [eat]." - pg. xxxi
I found that when I was heaviest into the food I would isolate myself from the world. I wouldn't talk to people, I wouldn't accept invites to events. I would get food and sit in my room eating all day long. I'd play video games or read books and try to shut out the world. I wouldn't get dressed most days, and often would not even shower because then I'd have to see myself out of my baggy sleep shirt. If I didn't see myself getting fatter, then there wasn't a problem. I was an ostrich with my head in the sand, and my day involved eating and those things I had to do between meals.
"From a trembling, despairing, nervous wreck, had emerged a man brimming over with self-reliance and contentment." - pg. xxxi
This is the hope. I am still that trembling, despairing, nervous wreck. I am so anxious about my body and my weight and my food and my abstinence that I am a complete mess. I want to be that self-reliant and content person. I keep hoping and hoping that I will get there.
"These men were not [eating] to escape; they were [eating] to overcome a craving beyond their mental control." - pg. xxx
A lot of people associate binge eating with emotional comforting. But I found, especially when the cravings were hitting me bad, that it didn't seem to be any particularly emotional or stressful time that was causing me to eat. This was not the "I just got dumped" ice cream binge. I tried to find justifications for the eating - I worked hard today so this is my reward, or I didn't get a lot of sleep so I'm eating to make up for being so tired, or I'm eating because I'm bored. But the reality often was that I was eating because I constantly was thinking about food. It had nothing to do with what was going on around me, but everything to do with the fact that I woke up thinking about food and spent the whole day fantasizing about what I was going to eat. Then when it came time to eat I couldn't pick what I was going to eat so I ate it all. Sometimes I ate to spite my parents, or to reward myself. Often I ate even when I didn't want to because I just couldn't seem to stop myself!
"There is the type of man who is unwilling to admit that he cannot take a drink. He plans various ways of drinking. He changes his brand or his environment." - pg. xxx
I think for a while this was me. I used to say I didn't have an eating problem - I just needed to try a different diet. Once I got on the right diet I would stick to it and I would lose the weight and there wouldn't be a problem because if I gained a few pounds I'd just hop right back on. But that's just not the case.
"There is the type who always believes that after being entirely free from [compulsive eating] for a period of time he can take a [bite] without danger." - pg. xxx
This was me after my first stint with OA. I remember that after having had my son, I thought I was fine. I was losing weight while nursing and instead of thinking about food all day I was thinking about my baby and about how badly I wanted to sleep. I thought I was cured! Whatever chemical defect caused the binging was clearly fixed now that my body had "reset itself" with the pregnancy and I could live the life of a normal person again. Yeah right.
"Then there are types entirely normal in every respect except in the effect [food] has upon them. They are often able, intelligent, friendly people." - pg. xxx
This is probably me now. I understand I have a problem. I understand that I need to stay away from compulsive eating behaviors - I just can't do it alone.
"This phenomenon, as we have suggested, may be the manifestation of an allergy which differentiates these people, and sets them apart as a distinct entity. It has never been, by any treatment with which we are familiar, permanently eradicated. The only relief we have to suggest is entire abstinence." - pg. xxx
This is the cruel joke of food addictions. You can live without alcohol. You can live without nicotine. You can live without heroine or cocaine or meth. But you can't live without food. I once thought I would be fine if they could just feed me through an IV. That would be perfect, or so I thought. I'd never have to worry about what I ate and I would always get the exact nutrition I needed. Except that isn't going to work. Abstinence in OA terms is such a varying concept from person to person. I heard a speaker say that their abstinence is reporting their food truthfully in an email to their sponsor. Another person has a list of items he cannot eat. My abstinence now involves eating a specific meal plan every single day. There is no one "entire abstinence" that we can sign on for and be fixed. All we can do is try our best to pick our sponsor and pick our abstinence and hope it makes a difference for us.
"He had lost everything worthwhile in life and was only living, one might say, to [eat]." - pg. xxxi
I found that when I was heaviest into the food I would isolate myself from the world. I wouldn't talk to people, I wouldn't accept invites to events. I would get food and sit in my room eating all day long. I'd play video games or read books and try to shut out the world. I wouldn't get dressed most days, and often would not even shower because then I'd have to see myself out of my baggy sleep shirt. If I didn't see myself getting fatter, then there wasn't a problem. I was an ostrich with my head in the sand, and my day involved eating and those things I had to do between meals.
"From a trembling, despairing, nervous wreck, had emerged a man brimming over with self-reliance and contentment." - pg. xxxi
This is the hope. I am still that trembling, despairing, nervous wreck. I am so anxious about my body and my weight and my food and my abstinence that I am a complete mess. I want to be that self-reliant and content person. I keep hoping and hoping that I will get there.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Preface - xxii to xxvi
Foreword to Third Edition
"Seven percent of the A.A.'s surveyed are less than 30 years of age - among them, many in their teens." - xxii
The fact that there were people back in the fledgling years of AA who were this young just confirms for me that there is a genetic component to addiction. My great grandfather was a terrible alcoholic. It was eventually what killed him - which isn't surprising since having lost a leg while being hit by a train [while drunk] didn't stop him from drinking. Addiction is hard-wired into my DNA. And it isn't just food. I can be compulsive about anything - arts and crafts, video games, books, etc. It always seems to be that I get started doing something, and then I feel compulsively driven to keep doing that one thing. So everything is feast or famine with me. If I am in the mood to watch TV, I want to watch TV every night and every free minute of the day. But as soon as I want to read instead of watch TV, I suddenly am obsessed with reading every night and every free minute of the day. There is no middle ground - and it seems to be the same way with food. I either am binge eating or I am fasting/purging. I always tend to swing to the extremes.
". . . recovery begins when one [compulsive overeater] talks with another [compulsive overeater], sharing experience, strength, and hope." - xxii
It was the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that brought me back to OA. What has been so bizarre this time around is that when my world feels overwhelming and I think I don't have the strength to make it another day, I go to a meeting and I feel like things will be okay. And it isn't just about abstinence, it's about my job and my marriage and my child - all the little stresses that build up until I think that I am going to break are gone as soon as I walk in that door. It is like I can finally breathe again. And the rest of the day or night (depending on the time of the meeting) I feel like I have the strength to keep going.
Foreword to Fourth Edition
"When the phrase 'We are people who normally would not mix' . . . was written in 1939, it referred to a Fellowship composed largely of men (and a few women) with quite similar social, ethnic, and economic backgrounds. Like so much of A.A.'s basic text, those words have proved to be far more visionary than the founding members could ever have imagined." - xxiii
The most bizarre aspect of OA meetings is the kinship I feel with people I never would have encountered in my daily life otherwise. I listen to speakers who are from completely different social, ethnic and economic backgrounds to me and I hear my own story. It's like meeting a family I never knew existed but who are so like me it is almost frightening. And I do feel a kinship with the people I talk to at the meetings. We're in this together, and there is a camaraderie, because I need them to recover and they need me to recover. At my first meeting, I had the distinct sensation that I was coming home.
". . . [OA]'s speak the language of the heart in all its power and simplicity." - xxiv
I love that I can be honest about my life when I am sharing at an OA meeting. There is something amazing about the anonymity that allows me to open up my deepest and darkest secrets. This is the place where it is appropriate to strip down the ego and the image and all the bullshit we put out to hide our disease. We can bear all and know that we are safe to do so. Not only do people understand the lows, they've been there themselves. There's a great quote I heard that goes something like this: "Of course we feel inadequate - we're comparing our everyday lives to other people's highlight reels." At the meetings we get to share the worst moments of our lives and discover that we're not alone. It is that honesty and that understanding that I think of when I read this passage.
The Doctor's Opinion
". . . suffered [compulsive overeater] torture. . ." - xxvi
God, how true this is. There is that moment when I've finished the box of Oreos or that carton of ice cream that I hate myself. Or sometimes even while I still am eating, because I look in that container and see that I have two more cookies, and it is with bone deep and gut wrenching despair that I pick up those two cookies and eat them. Because they're there. Because then the box will be empty and it won't be there to torment me any more.
And I hate myself every last second that the bite is going into my mouth, and every last second I chew that bite, all the way until I finish that box. And I despise myself for the weakness that led me to eat the box in the first place. I promise not to ever buy another box of cookies again. I swear that I have learned my lesson and I never ever want to feel horrible like that again. But somehow when I am at the store it seems like my arms and hands have a will entirely of their own as I put another box in my cart. And I hate myself for putting that box in my cart. And I hate myself for putting that box on the conveyor belt to be purchased. And the cycle begins again.
Not to mention the deep shame of it all. Sometimes I try to pretend I am having friends over - I make up a story about going to a party or having people over to watch the game. And when I go to drive-thru windows and am ordering enough food to feed an army I purchase multiple drinks just so the person at the window won't know that it is all for me. Yet there is still that pinpoint of terror inside when the cashier looks at me that they know. They are looking at my fat ass and they know that I just paid another five dollars for two extra drinks to try and pretend that all that food isn't going into my own stomach.
Torture is the best possible word for this disease.
". . . the body of the [compulsive overeater] is quite as abnormal as his mind. . . It did not satisfy us to be told that we could not control our [eating] just because we were maladjusted to life, that we were in full flight from reality, or were outright mental defectives. These things were true to some extent, in fact, to a considerable extent with some of us. But we are sure that our bodies were sickened as well. In our belief, any picture of the [compulsive overeater] which leaves out this physical factor is incomplete." - xxvi
This is the flip side to the discussion that was previously in the preface talking about how this is not just a physical problem but a spiritual malady. It also ties in to the findings that addiction is something a person can be genetically predispositioned to. At least one study shows that sugar can be as addictive as cocaine or heroin, including withdrawal symptoms if it is eliminated from the diet.
"Seven percent of the A.A.'s surveyed are less than 30 years of age - among them, many in their teens." - xxii
The fact that there were people back in the fledgling years of AA who were this young just confirms for me that there is a genetic component to addiction. My great grandfather was a terrible alcoholic. It was eventually what killed him - which isn't surprising since having lost a leg while being hit by a train [while drunk] didn't stop him from drinking. Addiction is hard-wired into my DNA. And it isn't just food. I can be compulsive about anything - arts and crafts, video games, books, etc. It always seems to be that I get started doing something, and then I feel compulsively driven to keep doing that one thing. So everything is feast or famine with me. If I am in the mood to watch TV, I want to watch TV every night and every free minute of the day. But as soon as I want to read instead of watch TV, I suddenly am obsessed with reading every night and every free minute of the day. There is no middle ground - and it seems to be the same way with food. I either am binge eating or I am fasting/purging. I always tend to swing to the extremes.
". . . recovery begins when one [compulsive overeater] talks with another [compulsive overeater], sharing experience, strength, and hope." - xxii
It was the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that brought me back to OA. What has been so bizarre this time around is that when my world feels overwhelming and I think I don't have the strength to make it another day, I go to a meeting and I feel like things will be okay. And it isn't just about abstinence, it's about my job and my marriage and my child - all the little stresses that build up until I think that I am going to break are gone as soon as I walk in that door. It is like I can finally breathe again. And the rest of the day or night (depending on the time of the meeting) I feel like I have the strength to keep going.
Foreword to Fourth Edition
"When the phrase 'We are people who normally would not mix' . . . was written in 1939, it referred to a Fellowship composed largely of men (and a few women) with quite similar social, ethnic, and economic backgrounds. Like so much of A.A.'s basic text, those words have proved to be far more visionary than the founding members could ever have imagined." - xxiii
The most bizarre aspect of OA meetings is the kinship I feel with people I never would have encountered in my daily life otherwise. I listen to speakers who are from completely different social, ethnic and economic backgrounds to me and I hear my own story. It's like meeting a family I never knew existed but who are so like me it is almost frightening. And I do feel a kinship with the people I talk to at the meetings. We're in this together, and there is a camaraderie, because I need them to recover and they need me to recover. At my first meeting, I had the distinct sensation that I was coming home.
". . . [OA]'s speak the language of the heart in all its power and simplicity." - xxiv
I love that I can be honest about my life when I am sharing at an OA meeting. There is something amazing about the anonymity that allows me to open up my deepest and darkest secrets. This is the place where it is appropriate to strip down the ego and the image and all the bullshit we put out to hide our disease. We can bear all and know that we are safe to do so. Not only do people understand the lows, they've been there themselves. There's a great quote I heard that goes something like this: "Of course we feel inadequate - we're comparing our everyday lives to other people's highlight reels." At the meetings we get to share the worst moments of our lives and discover that we're not alone. It is that honesty and that understanding that I think of when I read this passage.
The Doctor's Opinion
". . . suffered [compulsive overeater] torture. . ." - xxvi
God, how true this is. There is that moment when I've finished the box of Oreos or that carton of ice cream that I hate myself. Or sometimes even while I still am eating, because I look in that container and see that I have two more cookies, and it is with bone deep and gut wrenching despair that I pick up those two cookies and eat them. Because they're there. Because then the box will be empty and it won't be there to torment me any more.
And I hate myself every last second that the bite is going into my mouth, and every last second I chew that bite, all the way until I finish that box. And I despise myself for the weakness that led me to eat the box in the first place. I promise not to ever buy another box of cookies again. I swear that I have learned my lesson and I never ever want to feel horrible like that again. But somehow when I am at the store it seems like my arms and hands have a will entirely of their own as I put another box in my cart. And I hate myself for putting that box in my cart. And I hate myself for putting that box on the conveyor belt to be purchased. And the cycle begins again.
Not to mention the deep shame of it all. Sometimes I try to pretend I am having friends over - I make up a story about going to a party or having people over to watch the game. And when I go to drive-thru windows and am ordering enough food to feed an army I purchase multiple drinks just so the person at the window won't know that it is all for me. Yet there is still that pinpoint of terror inside when the cashier looks at me that they know. They are looking at my fat ass and they know that I just paid another five dollars for two extra drinks to try and pretend that all that food isn't going into my own stomach.
Torture is the best possible word for this disease.
". . . the body of the [compulsive overeater] is quite as abnormal as his mind. . . It did not satisfy us to be told that we could not control our [eating] just because we were maladjusted to life, that we were in full flight from reality, or were outright mental defectives. These things were true to some extent, in fact, to a considerable extent with some of us. But we are sure that our bodies were sickened as well. In our belief, any picture of the [compulsive overeater] which leaves out this physical factor is incomplete." - xxvi
This is the flip side to the discussion that was previously in the preface talking about how this is not just a physical problem but a spiritual malady. It also ties in to the findings that addiction is something a person can be genetically predispositioned to. At least one study shows that sugar can be as addictive as cocaine or heroin, including withdrawal symptoms if it is eliminated from the diet.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Preface - xi to xv
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.
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.
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