"In all probability, we shall never be able to touch more than a fair fraction of the [compulsive overeating] problem in all its ramifications." - Alcoholics Anonymous, page xxi (last paragraph of the forward to the second edition).

Although originally written about alcoholics, this statement is so much truer for compulsive overeaters.  I look at the people around me and I see so many who belong in program.  I've heard it said that everyone belongs in at least one program - the question is finding their drug of choice.  It takes only five minutes on any webpage to see the obsession people have with dieting and their weight.  So much money and energy goes into eating disorders and their ramifications.  There is so much suffering. 

When I think about how many cities have next to no OA presence, I am horrified.  The other week my usually packed Thursday night meeting was next to deserted.  One person shared that she was horrified to see that there were so many empty seats.  Just a casual stroll through a store suggests that there should be people pounding down the doors to get recovery.  Yet this program is only touching a small fraction of us.

I can only stop and pause and be insanely grateful that I was chosen to be in these rooms.  Really, I can only see the hand of God in moving me into OA.  I never would have found my way here on my own.  It took quite a few nudges to get me into the room and quite a few more nudges to get me to stay.  The life that recovery has given me is so much richer than I ever imagined it could be.  My feelings are deeper, my connection with my son is deeper, and my awareness of how my actions affect others is deeper. 

But for the grace of God, I'd still be quietly eating myself to an early, lonely, unfulfilled death.  When I see an obese person walk down the street I'm filled with a simultaneous sense of sadness (I once was told that every pound of fat is really a pound of pain) and relief that I get to be one of those people that doesn't have to let the pain rule my life and determine my future.

Newcomers. . .

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.

Meditation: Growth

This last week has been a difficult one.  My boyfriend broke up with me.  My ex-husband took my son to see his family in Texas for Easter.  But most importantly, after looking at the relationship patterns I've gravitated towards, I realized that I use love as a drug - and I'm referring to that Hallmark, Valentine's Day kind of love, not the truly deep and intimate kind of love.  When things get bad, I move from one relationship into another - keeping a casual distance, putting the new person on a pedestal, and waiting for things to collapse before starting the process immediately over again. 

This is just one more outlet for my disease to keep me from coping with life, and so I have a cross addiction that I am now dealing with.  Which means I spent this week managing an empty house and a breakup without food, without alcohol, and without the lure of seeking out a new romantic partner.

Being without my son is always tough, but on Easter it was particularly difficult.  So last night I decided that it was time to do a guided meditation.  When working on my Second Step, I learned a number of guided meditations designed to help me grow closer to my Higher Power. 

My favorite of these meditations is one that involves going into your "inner temple."  The process is simple.  Lie down and get comfortable.  Picture that there is a light (pick a relaxing color, mine is a teal color but yours can be anything you like) that is moving from your feet and filling your body as it goes up to your head.  Once you are in a safe little cocoon of relaxation, let yourself drift up and out of your body.  You are going up and up to the clouds.  Ahead you see a big fluffy white cloud and your cocoon stops there and you step out onto that cloud.  Ahead of you is your temple.

The meditation goes on to tell you to approach the temple and go inside.  You let your mind wander and just watch what you do in there - it's like semi-active dreaming. 

It's up to you to picture what your temple looks like.  My temple used to always be a Greek ruin with a few tendrils of ivy going up the side.  The inside had broken floors - it looked like a place that had not seen a human being in centuries (if not longer).  There was a lone stone altar in the center, but nothing else.  I have always loved my meditation trips to my temple because I thought it was beautiful and special. (A bit of foreshadowing . . .)

I couldn't seem to get into my teal cocoon this time.  Instead I felt like I was being sucked into a black hole.  I was trapped inside this little popcorn kernel shaped shell, curled into fetal position - and it was like this that I went up to my clouds.  I thought about stopping the meditation and starting over, but figured I'd go with it.

This time when I went into my temple, it was like a lush botanical garden.  The structure was the same - the same pillars and vines, but this time the whole place was surrounded by lush plants and hanging vines of flowers. The floors were old and worn, still ancient, but they had that well-kept look that you see in old cathedrals in Europe.  My stone altar was still in the center, but it had a pristine white table cloth on it, with candles and flowers.  On one side of the altar there now was a throne where I knew my Higher Power sat.  Instead of a place of decay, everything was pristine - as though it was millennia old, but had been loved every single day of its long, long life.

Looking around my temple, I realized that the changes I was seeing were a reflection of my growth in program.  I am no longer a barren, broken down human being.  My temple before was very pretty, but this place was beautiful beyond compare.  I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I was given this chance to see the changes in myself.  After how rough this week has been, I'd been feeling like I had made no progress whatsoever - and yet here was the proof to the contrary.

I looked around and didn't see my Higher Power anywhere, but somehow I knew he wasn't far.  I looked down and in my hand there was the little kernel with me inside, and I realized it was a seed.  Down at the base of the throne there was a missing stone with a plot of really rich smelling soil.  I'm not much of a gardener (as my poor half-dead vegetable garden can attest) but if I were a plant, that is the kind of soil I'd want to live in!  So that's exactly what I did.  I knelt down and planted the seed that was me, and stepped back.  I knew that I had planted my seed in a safe place and that my Higher Power was there to watch me grow.  I didn't have to worry about water or sunshine - my Higher Power had that part.

I knelt down next to the plot of dirt and told my seed-self, "I know it hurts now, and I know growing is a struggle.  But keep fighting, because it will all be worth it once you break the surface and see the sunshine."  I was picturing my seed-self pushing against the walls of the seed, breaking out and struggling against the dirt to push up and to the sunshine. I realized that the feelings I'm having now are just that - I'm pushing through the dirt trying to reach the sunshine.

I came to after that and felt this sense of peace.  I know days are going to be difficult, but just for today I can have faith that the sunshine is going to be worth it.

I don't know if these meditations are just my subconscious giving me the information I need or a way for my Higher Power to reach  me, but either way: message gratefully received.

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.

A Metaphor

Today I wanted to make a long outreach call, but having a very high energy toddler on my hands I knew that was unlikely to happen.  So in a moment of mad inspiration, I did what any mother would do.  I taught him how to drive.

In reality, he was sitting on my lap while I allowed the car to roll forward at a staggering 4 miles per hour.  He steered and I gently reached in to correct the wheel when he looked likely to hit a curb as we rolled our way around our cul-de-sac.  A few neighbors paused to call some greetings to us, and the bright smile on my son's face was infectious.

Every once in a while he didn't want to let me correct his steering and swatted my hands away.  When that happened, I applied the breaks and told him he wasn't going anywhere until he let me help.  He pouted but eventually realized that he needed my cooperation if he wanted to keep driving. 

I realized with surprise just how much this is like my own interactions with my Higher Power.  When I allow Him to gently guide me, He lets me steer and keeps things moving forward.  But when I refuse help, He puts on the brakes and lets me sit in frustrated misery until I'm willing to surrender.

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.

12 Steps to Total and Complete Insanity

[A spoof on the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. . .and oh so true!] 

1. We admitted we were powerless over nothing. We could manage our lives perfectly and we could manage those of anyone else that would allow it.
   
   
2. Came to believe that there was no power greater than ourselves, and the rest of the world was insane.
   
   
3. Made a decision to have our loved ones and friends turn their wills and their lives over to our care.
   
   
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of everyone we knew.
   
   
5. Admitted to the whole world at large the exact nature of their wrongs.
   
   
6. Were entirely ready to make others straighten up and do right.
   
   
7. Demanded others to either "shape up or ship out".
   
   
8. Made a list of anyone who had ever harmed us and became willing to go to any lengths to get even with them all.
   
   
9. Got direct revenge on such people whenever possible except when to do so would cost us our own lives, or at the very least, a jail sentence.
   
10. Continued to take inventory of others, and when they were wrong promptly and repeatedly told them about it.
    
11. Sought through nagging to improve our relations with others as we couldn't understand them at all, asking only that they knuckle under and do things our way.
    
12. Having had a complete physical, emotional and spiritual breakdown as a result of these steps, we tried to blame it on others and to get sympathy and pity in all our affairs.

From The ACA Communicator - March 1990 - Omaha, Council Bluffs Area Intergroup

First Bite

Today I wanted to eat those little sugary frosted cookies they sell in the grocery stores for holidays. They are this beautiful floury sugary mush and I love them. It started when thinking of St. Patrick's Day and why we'd need a meeting marathon for that holiday. Then I thought of the cookies. And damn it I wanted one. Badly. I still want one and it's been 7 hours.

I tried all kinds of rationalizing. I said to myself, "[My Sponsor] doesn't need to know if I just ate one cookie. Or not even a full cookie but just a BITE of the cookie. That would be fine. Oh, and you know, I probably could manage one box of them without it impacting anything. The next day I'd be right back on the food plan and no one would need to be the wiser. I could just eat the cookies in the parking lot of the grocery store, toss the carton, toss the receipt, and no one would ever know."

Then that fucker who doesn't want me to enjoy a beautiful box of green frosted shamrock shaped cookies thought, "but that wouldn't be rigorous honesty, and rigorous honesty is how we got to peace." It then went on to remind me how happy I have felt lately. How much energy I have had to do chores and be attentive and playful with my son.

So I thought, "you know, I can just close my eyes and remember how they tasted and felt in my mouth. They can't take that away from me." [Because, you know, everyone in OA is conspiring against me and my cookies.] But it wasn't enough.  I just wanted one bite of cookie.  That was all I needed and I'd throw the box away, scout's honor. [Which is especially convenient since I was never a Girl Scout.]

And I had to go to the grocery store to pick up my husband's medicine. I thought, "I bet they don't even have those cookies yet. It's still February. They won't have them until March. I will just go and check and prove to myself that they aren't even there."

Well God was on my side today.  [One of my daily outreach calls] felt bad we hadn't talked in a few days so she called me as I was in the car on the way to get my husband's medicine. I made it a point to stay on the phone with her the entire time I was in the store. Because I know if I see the cookies I'll buy them.  If I take one bite of that cookie, I'd eat the whole box. Then I would raid the candy aisle. I saw the Starburst licorice sticks today and they looked amazing. I'd eat those next. Then some Mike & Ikes - I miss those. Then I'd keep grazing on sugar until I made myself ill. Ooh, then I'd hit the doughnuts and maybe get some more cookies. And I'd top it off with some garlic bread or maybe just get a whole big sourdough loaf thing and eat it with oil and balsamic vinegar. And Ding Dongs. I'd have to eat a box or two of those.

So really, I think it's easier to just not eat that first bite of cookie.

The Path

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

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

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

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

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

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

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."

Just a Thought. . .

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

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)

Third Step Prayer

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

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

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.

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!

Preface xxix

The Doctor's Opinion

"After they have succumbed to the desire again, as so many do, and the phenomenon of craving develops, they pass through the well-known stages of a spree, emerging remorseful with a firm resolution not to drink again.  This is repeated over and over, and unless this person can experience an entire psychic change there is very little hope of his recovery."  - xxix

I think every compulsive overeater [really, every addict] knows this story far to intimately for comfort.  It is almost painful to read and remember the gut wrenching despair and shame after the binge.  And the worst part is the knowledge, the certainty, that in spite of the most fervently meant resolutions lurks the knowledge that I can't win.  I know one day, far sooner than I could ever anticipate, the process will start over again. 

When I have candy in the house, or when there is food in front of me, I desperately begin the binge.  It becomes a certainty that I will enter the spree, so I seek to eat all the food so I won't be tempted to eat the food.  It is insanity, and it is backwards logic, but I can never seem to help myself.  I struggle and struggle but once that food is in the house it torments me.  All I can think about is the food, whatever it is. . . Halloween candy, cookies, bagels, muffins, chips, even rice cakes - I can't sleep because I am thinking about them.  I worry about them all night because I'm afraid I'm going to binge on them.  Hence - I eat them to relieve myself of the torment.  It is torture, but I can't help myself.  And I live with others, so I can't keep the foods out of my home.  And I can't always resist the urge to purchase additional things at the store.

". . . once a psychic change has occurred, the very same person who seemed doomed, who had so many problems he despaired of ever solving them, suddenly finds himself easily able to control his desire for [food], the only effort necessary being that required to follow a few simple rules." - xxix

This seems like a dream to me.  It is such a foreign concept that I almost am too afraid to believe it is real because I am too afraid to get my hopes up.  But I pray for this every single night, and at every single meeting.

"Although he gives all that is in him, it often is not enough.  One feels that something more than human power is needed to produce the essential psychic change."  - xxix

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.  I am a professional woman.  I am a mother and a wife.  I have a family I care for and a job and home I manage and care for.  I have overcome adversity, and I am diligent and tenacious.  No matter how many times life knocks me down or how many obstacles are thrown in my way, I keep getting up and marching on.

But in spite of every ounce of struggle and fight and determination I have in me, I can't beat this.  I need something more.  I  can't say I am comfortable with a higher power yet.  I have an often conflicted relationship with God.  But right now I'm content for the OA group to be my higher power.  They are the ones I am responsible to.  And my sponsor is the one who I listen to for permission and instructions.  I am giving her the power, because I clearly can't manage my life in this regard in spite of all my best efforts.  I will need to develop a better relationship with my higher power over time, but for now, this will have to be enough.

Preface - xvi to xxi

Foreword to Second Edition

This section discusses the beginnings of AA and the discoveries made b the physician and broker who started the group.

". . . the necessity of belief in and dependence upon God." - xvi

I was once told that your higher power can be anything or any one, so long as it is something you are willing to put your faith in and surrender the power to.  I'm not an atheist or even an agnostic, but I have a hard time believing that God will be the one to take away this insanity. At this stage my higher power is my sponsor.   I can't manage my own food and I can't manage my own recovery.  I'm just not equipped with the necessary tools to do this. 

The thing is, I have prayed to God for help.  I have prayed for many things, but it just never seems like He answers.  Or if He is answering, it isn't in any way that I'm going to be able to hear.  So if He's going to be inclined to answer now, He's going to have to do it through the voice of my sponsor.

And it isn't that I don't think He listens to prayers.  For instance, I really attribute it to His grace that I found OA in the first place.  But I can't sit and wait for something to happen.  There's a great joke about a man who goes to a statue of St. Peter and prays every day to win the lottery.  One day his forlorn tear strikes the foot of the statue and St. Peter comes to life and says to the man "for the love of God, buy a lottery ticket!"

". . . the theory that only [a compulsive overeater] could help [a compulsive overeater], but he succeeded only in keeping [abstinent] himself." - xvi

I always could remember getting angry at skinny people or people who were in great shape when they would talk to me about their "weight struggles".  My mother is a prime example.  She goes on about how she battles with food, and how it is so difficult for her to give up breads and all the other things she'll do depending on which fad diet she is following at a given time.  I get that she is tempted and she really wants to eat the bread or whatever it is she gave up. 

And I understand the determination it takes for those people who are in great shape to keep getting out of bed in the morning to exercise.  But most of those people never got out of bed carrying another person in weight and went for that run.  They get the satisfaction of feeling good after exercising and looking in the mirror and feeling accomplishment.  All I get is the feeling that I'm going to die and a view of the same old fat ass I always see.

It is like someone who once sprained an ankle trying to tell a paraplegic that they "totally understand."  My need to diet isn't about those extra four pounds I gained on vacation.  I need to lose, conservatively speaking, at least fifty pounds.  I probably should lose more like eighty or ninety pounds.

But my mentor's mentor lost over three hundred pounds - if there's someone who understands what it is to face a mountain, he's it.  The people at OA who are working the steps and fighting these demons - they understand.  They have a frame of reference for what I'm talking about and what I'm going through.  And they've managed to pull through to the other side.  And once I get to the other side, it's my turn to pull others across, because that's the only way to stay where I need to be.  To remember the struggle and the suffering.  Because if I let myself forget, like I did when I had my baby, then I'm going to be right back in hell again.

". . . in order to save himself he must carry his message to another [compulsive overeater]." - xvi

See above.

". . . began to pursue the spiritual remedy for his malady with a willingness he had never before been able to muster." - xvi

It's amazing the power of hope.  At the end of the day, I am the one who is picking up the food and putting it into my mouth.  But if I leave control of the food choices to my sponsor, I can succeed where previously I failed.  And that's a powerful motivator.

But I love the description of this as the pursuit of a spiritual remedy for the malady.  It is such a beautiful way to describe this problem.  Whenever my mom gets on me about my weight and asks how much I've lost, I always tell her: "I don't weigh in."  She gets upset, but I shake my head and tell her, "the weight is a symptom of the disease, not the disease itself."  That is what I learned in my first go at OA.  This disease is both spiritual and physical, and all the doctors in the world are going to be helpless to cure it without that spiritual remedy.

I am seeking a spiritual remedy for my malady.

"This seemed to prove that one [compulsive overeater] could affect another as no non[compulsive overeater] could." - xvi-xvii

See above.

"There were many failures, but there was an occasional heartening success." - xvii

The rest of this section goes on to talk about the spread of AA and the fact that people kept coming back.  Those who really tried either succeed immediately, eventually succeeded, or just simply got better.  And many who left at first eventually came back. 

This just resonated with me because I see and hear so much how people keep coming back to OA after they leave.  If people keep returning to this program for the answer, it obviously is waiting there.  And there eventually will be that one meeting that clicks.  So even if there are going to be failures on my road, I can still look forward to an occasional heartening success.