I've had a bit of an emotional week. After much prayer and meditation, I realized that I needed to have a frank discussion with my boyfriend about what being with an addict entails. I talked to him about the possibility of relapse, and what that could look like.
Being a compulsive overeater, my relapse looks very different from that of the alcoholic or the drug addict. I am killing myself every bit as much as those addicts when I am in my disease. The difference is that I'm doing so in a quiet way that one simply doesn't talk about. Sure the concerned family member might note I had gained weight, or someone might ask if I was still going to meetings. But ultimately it isn't the kind of addiction that you can get court-ordered to do something about.
I asked my boyfriend if he was willing to stay knowing that relapse would always be a risk. He knows I work a strong program. He knows I am putting program first. He knows that I intend to do everything in my power to stay in the rooms, because that's where life is. But after having a slip, I knew that the only way I could continue with him was knowing that he wouldn't suddenly be blind-sided if I relapsed after we were married with children.
He took my question very seriously, and has been thinking about it all week. It isn't so much the prospect of me being obese that concerns him (while he wouldn't enjoy that aspect of relapse). What concerns him is that he will be watching me kill myself and be unable to do anything to stop it. In fact, if he tries to interfere, he may be hindering my recovery. That is the aspect that has him concerned. In his mind, that is a lot of responsibility and potential conflict. So he has not ended things, but he is taking time to truly think things over.
I appreciate that he is taking this seriously, because it is something that I take seriously. But being left in suspense is an uncomfortable and frightening place. I took the action that I felt was in the best interest of my program. Food had gotten loud and I realized it was my anxiety over how my relationship might interfere with my program. So I did what was necessary to resolve that anxiety. In the process I created a different anxiety.
Today I was feeling that perhaps it would be better to simply end the relationship. It would give me certainty and end that fear and that powerlessness that I'm so uncomfortable with. I would choose loneliness and isolation instead - those are feelings that I'm far more at home with.
Then I learned that my friend lost his battle with cancer, leaving his wife and their four children behind. Boy didn't that put my life into perspective. I'm in a huff because my boyfriend is taking time to consider whether he wants to take our relationship to a more serious level. Yet my friend's wife is mourning the loss of the love of her life. I will see my boyfriend on Friday. She will never see her husband again.
It was a very humbling and I felt ashamed to realize how ungrateful I was for the blessings in my life. I have a relationship that for today is very wonderful and beautiful, and I was willing to throw it away because of fear. I might lose him later so I'll throw him away today. . . when there are countless widows who would do anything to get just one more day with their loved ones. It is entirely possible that my boyfriend will tell me he wants to part ways when I see him this Friday. If that happens, I will wish him the best and thank my Higher Power for the time I had with him. But to throw away the possibility of a future with him simply because I was uncomfortable with the uncertainty is ridiculous.
So for a while I stopped thinking about my problems. I started thinking about those things I was grateful for. I spent time getting my emotions shrunk down to the right sizes for the situation.
Then I spent time mourning my friend, because he deserved to be mourned. I sat down alone on my sofa and I held a small conversation with him. I thanked him for the things he brought to my life, apologized for anything I could think of that might warrant an amends (and then a few things that probably didn't). I sat with a Kleenex box and said my good bye. Then I moved on to work on my program. I feel very keenly the void my friend will leave in my life, but I know that I must accept the things I cannot change. Sadly, death is one of those.
Showing posts with label Shame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shame. Show all posts
Thursday, April 3, 2014
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.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
The Fix
I am sad to say that when I am looking for guru style inspiration, I turn to my favorite blog for a fix. I love the Big Book and the literature, but there is something a slight bit naughty about finding inspiration in "non-approved literature". It sounds like something that I should be reading with a flashlight under my covers at night! Only in this case it is a blog by a man who has been over 20 years sober in AA.
The thing I love about speaker meetings is that I almost invariably go away with one sentence that is going to pop back in my head when I most need it. I heard one speaker refer to these as "God shots" - and he always waited to hear his God shot of the day. [See what I did there?]
I have learned in my brief time in program that the people with years of abstinence have been absorbing years of God shots that they drop like bread crumbs for us newbies to follow. Which points out two things: 1) how important it is to have these old timers around to help us youngins, and 2) just how badass and awesome I am going to sound in a few years when I can drop thesestolen borrowed gems of wisdom in meetings and blow the minds of the newcomers.
My God shot today came after a discussion with a family friend who is going on 22 years sober in AA. We were talking about the tendency to replace our addictions. So of course, up pops a blog entry dealing with the same subject. The post is about what old timers mean when they say The Road Gets Narrower, and here is the quote that stood out to me:
"When it comes to "fixing" here's the secret, and I learned it the hard way: I will never be able to change how I feel by trying to take something in. I will never be able to let go of the fear or the resentment by consuming -- be it food or goods or people. I cannot fill the hole inside by taking things in -- the only way to shrink the hole is to reverse the flow. It's by giving (of myself, of my time, or my experience, to help others) that I am healed and literally "fixed", that I am filled -- not by taking in." - Mr. Sponsorpants
The thing I love about speaker meetings is that I almost invariably go away with one sentence that is going to pop back in my head when I most need it. I heard one speaker refer to these as "God shots" - and he always waited to hear his God shot of the day. [See what I did there?]
I have learned in my brief time in program that the people with years of abstinence have been absorbing years of God shots that they drop like bread crumbs for us newbies to follow. Which points out two things: 1) how important it is to have these old timers around to help us youngins, and 2) just how badass and awesome I am going to sound in a few years when I can drop these
My God shot today came after a discussion with a family friend who is going on 22 years sober in AA. We were talking about the tendency to replace our addictions. So of course, up pops a blog entry dealing with the same subject. The post is about what old timers mean when they say The Road Gets Narrower, and here is the quote that stood out to me:
"When it comes to "fixing" here's the secret, and I learned it the hard way: I will never be able to change how I feel by trying to take something in. I will never be able to let go of the fear or the resentment by consuming -- be it food or goods or people. I cannot fill the hole inside by taking things in -- the only way to shrink the hole is to reverse the flow. It's by giving (of myself, of my time, or my experience, to help others) that I am healed and literally "fixed", that I am filled -- not by taking in." - Mr. Sponsorpants
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.
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