Hello.... again

Two and a half years it's been since I last posted, good years in some ways and rough in some ways. I quit OA and gradually I quit my abstinence program, especially in the year since trump went on the campaign trail and began to... akkkkkkkk.... don't get me started on him. Talk about anger and resentment. Whoooosh. I should work the steps about my relationship to mr. trump. I really should. In the past 5 months I went heavily back into binging on chocolate. Daily.

Two weeks ago I started abstinence on chocolate. again. I pray for help with this, because chocolate is the mother of all my addictions. I can not do it alone. Chocolate is poison to me, because when I start consuming it, I can not stop... 800, 1,000, 2,000 calories a day in chocolate and very little else. Alcoholics understand this. Most others do not. My internal systems don't like it. I get sick a lot. Plus I've gained almost all my weight back. Again. And that makes me uncomfortable and less active. Sugar isn't so hot either, I will eat almost anything with sugar until it is gone. So, I hope to become abstinent on cake, cookies, pastries, candy, ice cream as well as chocolate. Today I was not. I don't know about tomorrow.

I've missed my blogger friends. I need you now more than ever because I don't have OA anymore.

Still Reeling

Yep, I'm still in shock, still reeling about what I did, about the impossible-seeming act of eating an entire NY cheese cake in one sitting. I mean, how low can I go? Yet, there's a glimmer of hope growing in me, a faint sense that maybe it was a turning point. Since then I've been on plan, abstinent. Tomorrow is OA, a tool that definitely helps me stay on plan.

I want to write about steps 8 and 9, the ones about listing all the people I have harmed and then making amends to them. It's true I have harmed people, especially by lying to them. But the person I've lied to the most and harmed the most is me. Here are a few of the ways I've harmed myself with my compulsive overeating:

1. habitually referred to myself as "fat." I wouldn't say that to anybody else.
2. denied myself the comfort of wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts in hot weather.
3. denied myself the joy of swimming because I look horrible in a bathing suit. (I love to swim!)
4. denied myself the pleasure of attending social events because I am fat and don't look good enough.
5. thought of myself as stupid. After all, aren't all fat people stupid?
6. harmed my body by yo-yo dieting and by the extra weight I've lugged around most of my life.
7. deceived myself about my compulsive overeating, telling myself lies to justify eating.
8. suffered from extreme shyness in social situations because of my weight.
9. burdened myself with guilt and shame about weight, sneaking sweets, lying about my eating, lack of control, selfishness.
10. jeopardized my marriage and previous partnerships in many ways connected to food and compulsive overeating.

I'm 71 years old, and have been struggling with weight and the above abuse since 5th grade, or about 60 years. That's a lot of harm. Now... how can I make amends to myself? It seems to call for action. Saying "Dear Self, I am so sorry I harmed you" does not constitute making amends in my book. The only real way to make amends is to give up compulsive overeating. That's a crossroad, isn't it?

One thing I can do is stop saying I'm fat. Never mention my fat arms, or my fat legs or my fat belly, or my fat body again.... ever! I don't know if I can keep those words out of my mind, but at least I can stop saying them out loud.

I wish I could say I will wear shorts and sleeveless shirts, and go swimming.... don't think that will happen. Oh dear, this making amends part is really tough.

Starting Over

Have you ever devoured an entire cheese cake, a thick, bakery-fresh, New York style, cheese cake, one designed to serve 4 people, in one sitting? If so, you know how horrible it makes you feel a little while later, and how fuzzy your teeth get.  If not, don't. It does not fix your despair. It does not make you feel better. In fact, quite the contrary, it makes you feel a thousand times worse, as you set your abstinence back to zero... again... as you realize once again that compulsive eating makes you feel crazy. I know, because that's what happened yesterday.

The good news is, that was yesterday. Today I was abstinent. Reminder to self: it makes you feel great to be abstinent.

That's all for today. Tomorrow is another new day, day 2 maybe.

Downward Spiral

HELP!

Help me, please. I am on a downward spiral of eating too much, especially too much bread, jam, honey, and restaurant foods. This past Saturday and Sunday, both days, I found an excuse to be alone, drove to a bakery, bought a large cookie, and ate it sneakily in the car before returning to my quilting buddies (on a retreat).

This, after 452 days of abstinence... no cookies, no candy, no pie, no ice cream, no pastries, and most importantly, no chocolate (which is my absolutely worst addictive substance). Cookies are a road to chocolate.

I am so afraid of getting into my old binging ways, where shame and fear rule me, where my weight skyrockets and I hate myself.

Today and yesterday I was abstinent. Two days. I must remember that 452 days began with one day, and then a second day.

Meetings? Yes, I go to meetings. Steps? Do I work the steps? Well, I have probably spent 30 hours working the steps in the last 6 months. I don't have a sponsor. I do have one. But she is on a year-long road trip. And I never really asked for her help.

One of my many problems, is I don't trust that anybody or anything can help me. See? I'm still having a problem with steps 2 & 3. It all felt clear when I was writing in the 12-Step workbook, but now I'm lost again.

I feel dirty. Eating those two cookies makes me feel dirty. Eating them gave me no comfort and no relief; it only made me feel dirty, sneaky, and stupid.

Usually, when I write here, I try to end on a positive note. At this moment, I can not find a positive note.

..."Relieve Me of the Bondage of Self"....

I opened the topic for today's OA meeting by telling the group I had reached my stated goal, yet was experiencing very mixed emotions about it. In a jumbled way I mentioned these points:

• I felt dismay at the reactions of some... My husband, for example, said "I wish I could lose some weight" and has seemed rather aloof and cold toward me since I told him.
• I still think of myself as "fat" or "overweight." What will it take to change that?
• What next? There's a "let-down" feeling following completion. I wonder how athletes handle it after they win, for example, a gold medal? What is my next step? What direction do I look now? Where is my next work?
  
• My achievement seems small and unimportant to me, especially compared to some I know (or know of) who have lost 90, 100, 200 pounds. What does my size 10 matter in the greater scheme of things?
• I understand that reaching my goal doesn't mean I am "cured." If I were to return to eating my binge foods, I would regress and gain all the weight back in record time. If I do not continue to practice one day at a time and yield my will to my higher power, I will be wearing size 18-20 jeans again very soon.
• I am afraid of complacency.

Perhaps the key to the above angst lies in prayer. I'm thinking about the 3rd step prayer, especially the line "Relieve me of the bondage of self..." What does that mean? I wish I could find a discussion of this topic on line.

For me, at the moment, it has something to do with the fences, walls, ladders and labels I surround myself with. I build walls and fences around me, which may protect me emotionally in some ways and which concurrently keep me in jail, away from discovery and change. I erect ladders that must be climbed, goal setting, yet the top of any ladder is not a stable place to stand. I label myself as fat, overweight, flabby and more, words that imprison me in discomfort.

Is this what bondage of self means? If so, I would gladly be relieved of all of it and so heartily pray.

* * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: rain last night and moss newly greened as a result, members of my OA group, fresh raspberries available now, having more energy after being sick for so long.

A Gazillion Lies About Food

Still on the subject of telling lies. Thinking about some of the lies I've told about food... to people I don't know, to store clerks, to close friends, to family, to myself. Just for fun, here are a couple of them...

Lie told to a very close woman friend about 2 years ago

On my way to her house to have a pot-luck lunch with a couple of my quilting friends, I stopped at the grocery store to buy a roasted chicken. Cookies there calling me loudly. Like home-made and only $1.00 for three of the lovelies with macadamia nuts and white chocolate. So I bought a dozen. Got in my car with cookies and chicken, opened cookie bag, chowed one down. Ate another while driving. Was almost to friend's house, but wanted to eat a couple more (this was becoming an uncontrollable binge). Parked my car by the side of the road, ducked my head down, and ate cookies, one after another.

Meanwhile, my friend, driving from a work errand in town, passed my car and recognized it. With 6 remaining cookies, I arrived a few minutes later at her house. "What were you doing parked by the side of the road?" she asked. "Wasn't me." I replied. "Looked like your car," she said. "Nope, guess there are a lot of blue Honda Civics, huh." Flat out lie.

Since starting OA, I told her about that lie and apologized. Feel better about it now.

One of many lies I've told my husband about me and food

Because of having a family that has suffered greatly from alcohol abuse, my husband understands about addiction. When we met 14 years ago, long before OA, I knew I was addicted to chocolate. At times I would go abstinent on chocolate and when I met him was one of those times. We shared that we were both abstinent on alcohol and for me, also chocolate. This was a good bond for us.

A couple years later, I slipped on the chocolate. I thought I could have it just one time, at one special occasion, which of course set me off rolling down the slope of more and more chocolate, more and more binging. But I didn't tell my husband. First lie... lie of omission.

In order to maintain that lie, I had to sneak my chocolate. I had to tell many lies to hide my daily chocolate fixes. One time we were waiting for the ferry and I HAD to have a fix. Standing at the vendor, paying for a bag of M & Ms, my husband walked in, surprising me and catching me in the act. "I'm buying these for you! And they were supposed to be a surprise," I said, covering for my irritated attitude at being caught.

It's a fact...

I have a history of telling a lot of lies concerning my behavior around food, little lies and big whoppers. It makes me feel creepy when I do it; and it makes me feel creepy now to admit it, to write about it, to remember some of them.

I prefer to think of myself as a fundamentally honest person. Honesty is something our parents and teachers encouraged. Honesty is something I admire in others.

So, what's under the lies? What do they have in common? Mostly, I think, I lie to conceal behaviors for which I feel shame. I have a great deal of shame around not being normal about food, about not being able to control what and how much I eat, and around my weight, about my size and shape and at times obesity.

Shame is under the lies. What is under shame? Is it fear? I think so. Fear of not being loveable, fear of death, fear of loneliness, fear of being wrong, fear of ultimate failure as a human being.

Today, I accept the fear. It is real and it is part of me. I accept.

********
Gratitude: shooting stars just starting to bloom, quilting friends, OA

Little Lies

Been stuck for about 8 months. Not gaining weight, but no loss either. In OA, very aware of the 12-step recovery program, yet not getting past the 3rd step, thinking about the fourth step, but not really doing it. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll find when I start taking an honest look at my defects of character. Maybe I'm stuck because I want to do it "right."

The exact wording of the 4th step is: 4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. Reading the AA "Big Book" and some OA guides, I see there are various ways to approach the inventory, all having in common that it should be written. Most suggest that we look at the problem areas in our lives and identify things we do that get us into trouble. I guess there are probably as many diverse ways to approach step 4 as there are people doing it. That's the key to getting past being stuck: just do it.

OK, so I've started writing about lies, about me telling fibs or lies.

For example, I've always lied about my weight. Never once have I told the correct weight when I've renewed my driver's license, always at least 20 pounds less than my actual weight. Never have I given my true weight when arranging a flight in a small plane. While this is probably common, especially among people who are overweight, it bothers me that I do it. It's being deceitful to myself and contributes to double shame, first that I am overweight and second that I lie about it.

Another example is telling lies to exaggerate, to make a better sounding story or to make myself seem better, more important, wiser. These are little twists of truth, starting with a kernel of truth, but get bigger and/or better than the actual truth, just a little embellishment here or there. Well, I don't like that about myself. Sometimes, hearing myself telling fibs of exaggeration, part of me wants to run away and hide from embarrassment.

A third example is telling lies to cover up mistakes, especially when I'm late or have not responded to an outside contact in a timely manner, in other words, to cover my procrastination. Some months ago, I was writing a delayed response to an email. A fib started rolling out about why it was taking me so long to respond. I paused thinking, "No! I don't have to make excuses. I only need to apologize for my tardiness." Since then, I've been telling cover-up lies much less often.

These are the little lies. There are a few big ones in my past. I'm going to write about them too, only not publicly on my blog. This is my 4th step starting point. I see a great deal of comfort and satisfaction down the road in not telling big or little lies anymore, because to stop means I will have to accept myself the way I am and be willing to be imperfect, to make mistakes and forgive myself.

* * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: my husband, riding my motorcycle, sunshine

A Year in OA and Hoarding Stuff

Two topics on my mind tonight...

A Year in Overeaters Anonymous

I've been going to OA for a year now, though it seems like lots less than that. I've never been to a meeting that didn't help me, contribute to my newly developing sense of inner harmony and peace of mind, make me feel accepted. Like they say, "Welcome to Overeaters Anonymous; welcome home." Always somebody says something that clarifies an attitude, an action, or a reaction for me. My gratitude for each person in my small group is immense.

My abstinence program regarding certain foods (cake, candy, chocolate, cookies, pie, ice cream and pastries) is solid. 194 days of perfect abstinence on that score! No regrets. No misgivings. Rarely tempted. Not feeling deprived. Happy to not eat any of it, ever! This was a 360 degree change from 60 years of binging on chocolate and the rest of them every chance I could get (not an exaggeration).

My abstinence program regarding my meal plan is not going so well. In fact, not going well at all. In the past few months, I've observed a steady increase in both portion size and snacking. I think the way to get back on track is to work the OA steps. I'm hung up on the 4th step. Maybe I need to return to the first 3 and then approach step 4 in a refreshed state of mind. My spiritual recovery is stagnate. I'll try to write more about that in my next post.

So, looking at the year as a whole, I see a much thinner, much happier me, who is now needing to take new pathways into the program.

Hoarding Stuff

I'm currently reading a very interesting book called, Stuff, Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things by Randy Frost and Gail Steketee. Bringing a clinical psychology background to their ten-year study of compulsive hoarding, the authors present case histories and their personal impressions about this problem that may affect more people than we realize. While we all keep stuff we don't need or use, the authors say it's only a problem if it makes us miserable, if it "causes substantial distress or interference in every-day living."

The book is a good read, well-written, sensitive, courageous. I saw it in a bookstore and paid full retail because I couldn't wait to get it through Amazon. Why? Because I hoard stuff, stuff I don't need or use or want. Always it bothers me. Always I wish I could give or throw it away. Do I have stacks reaching the ceiling? Only in my closets. Do I have a warehouse full of stuff? No. Have I filed bankruptcy because I overspend my income? No. Has my husband threatened divorce because of my clutter? No; at least not yet.

But (and this is a BIG BUT), what I do have bothers me A LOT). I'm looking for a little help from this book. The authors say that fixing the problem takes "heroic effort." Three ideas regarding a fix are helping me already:

1. I am practicing a total shift in my decision-making process in reaction to the sight of a desired possession. Rather than narrow and focus my attention on the thing, I expand my attention to consider how this object "fits into the fabric" of my life. Expand rather than narrow my attention... that's an important key I think.

2. This one again involves the desire to acquire new stuff. Each time an opportunity to acquire stuff comes along, I ask myself "When will I use it? Do I have anything like it already?" and "Do I have a place to put it?"

3. Already the above have made a difference in my level of new acquisitions. However, disposing of the stuff I already have is an entirely different and much more difficult matter. I find that like more serious hoarders, I attach great value to my stuff. I think of it as potential, exciting and worthwhile, things I can use to make my art, things that I can do or learn from someday. To my eyes, my stuff also has sentimental meaning. Like many hoarders, I seem to derive a sense of self from my stuff, my collections, my supplies, and my piles of inspiration. Gaining a better understanding of this from the book may help me to let some of it go, to find potential and value in myself rather than my stuff.

Each chapter begins with a quote. Here's one I like a lot by William James:

It is clear that between what a man calls me and what he simply calls mine the line is difficult to draw. We feel and act about certain things that are ours very much as we feel and act about ourselves.

* * * * *
Gratitude for today: longer days, my special surrogate-granddaughter, my husband, red roses

Anonymity... Comment by Anonymous

Saturday I wrote about suicide by overeating, the topic at our OA meeting that day. One person commented as follows:

Anonymous said...

"A" meetings are "safe" places where we can go and talk because we are told that "what is said in a meeting, stays in a meeting". We learn to build trust again through these meetings. I think it may have been an oversight on your end that you didn't realize that sharing one word, one sentence, one story is a breach of that trust. You are given a gift at those meetings by people who are as raw and hurting as you are, so a gentle reminder to keep that boundary.

Thanks for the reminder! I wish to apologize to whoever wrote the above comment and give my promise to be more careful in the future. I do value the safe space we have in our meetings to say whatever we need to say. And, yes, of course the atmosphere of safety depends on anonymity.

I guess when I wrote the post (here), it didn't seem likely that anybody could identify any of the members from what I wrote. However, one never knows who might read my post and be able to put two and two together. The post is now edited to remove all specific content from our OA meeting. Hopefully what remains is not in violation of any trust.

Actually, I'd like to know, who are you Anonymous? I'd like to apologize directly to you and understand more completely your interpretation of the OA anonymity policy. If you wish, please contact me by email: WordsPaint[at]gmail[dot]com or directly if you know me. Thanks.

Difficult Subject

We grappled with the difficult subject of suicide in our OA meeting today. Members talked about how serious medical issues are caused by or worsened by overeating, about how both mind and body suffer terribly from a long-term pattern of binging and other compulsive eating disorders, about how it's a slow way of killing ourselves, a passive death.

It's got me thinking about my addiction to alcohol, an extremely active addiction in my 20s and 30s, and how I took so many risks with life then, like passing out with my car running, like driving in total black-out condition or driving fast and recklessly in the early stages of getting drunk. Was that behavior a semi-passive way of attempting suicide? Looking back, it certainly seems possible.

Why? Why would I want to kill myself? I don't know. Except for one broken-hearted occasion, I don't recall consciously thinking, "I want to die." It just seemed like fun, each first drink seeming to be all about having fun. But looking back, each next drink seems increasingly to have invited death to my side. It wasn't that I was unaware of that either. The next morning, I'd realize I'd been driving blacked out... again... and understand what a risk I was to myself and to others. It didn't stop me.

What stopped me with alcohol (and more recently with food) was that someone told me he was an alcoholic. He described his "symptoms" and told me about his AA recovery program. That was 30 years ago. It made a strong impression on me as the light bulb went off about my own compulsive use of alcohol. I quit for good within a year, without the benefit of AA. And now I would have to add, without the benefit of the whole spirituality-based recovery process.

A friend recently told me she considered her life to be a precious gift from God. Her way to repay or return this gift to God is to shepherd herself, to take care of and preserve herself as best she can.

Well that's an interesting thought to me, who's never been religious. Can I think of my life as being a gift? Hmmm, certainly it was a gift from my parents. That I lived through a serious childhood disease is a gift of well-practiced medicine. That I survived years of alcohol abuse is a gift of the universe.

I believe that my parents and doctors had intent behind giving me life. But the universe? Was it just chance? Some people would say not chance. Does it matter? I don't know. But I'm still here. Do I have a purpose and a responsibility because I've been given the gift of life many times over, whether by chance or intent (or a combination of both)?

And how does all this relate to food? Overeating and binging is a way of committing slow suicide, no doubt about it. My whole system... my heart, my joints and possibly most insidiously, my mind... suffers a slow death from overeating. Would I knowingly ingest a small amount of arsenic every day, slowly killing myself? No. Nor would I ever drink alcohol again in my life.

So why would I kill myself with food? I don't know the answer about why. But there is much of me that does want to live. The child within wants to live. I must honor and respect the gift of life.
* * * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: getting a ride to OA (too much ice and snow for me to drive), quality pens and pencils, coffee, finishing my tax preps last night

Epiphany about Step One

OA Step 1:
We admitted we were
powerless over food -
that our lives
had become unmanageable.

I've had a little epiphany about step one in the past couple of days. Here's the thing. Back on April 17 when I went to my first OA meeting and began an abstinence program, I looked at Step 1 and said, "Yep, that's me... I am powerless over food and my life is unmanageable." I had no trouble with it, could not imagine a deeper truth about myself.

Now, however, I find that my mind's been playing a little trick on me. My subconscious mind made a slight alteration in the wording. Here's the version I accepted 7 months ago:

We admitted we were
powerless over binge foods -
that our lives
had become unmanageable.

See the difference?

I turned my binge foods over to a higher power. I gave up trying to control my eating of cookies, cake, ice cream, pastries, pie and candy. As I've written several times, a drastic change occurred, a miracle, an unimaginable blessing. I no longer crave these foods, nor have crazy voices in my head convincing me to have them, nor feel deprived at not having them.

But my other eating? Well, I guess my mind thought I could control that part of it. I could stick to a food plan of three modest meals a day and nothing in between meals. Not so. At first I did fairly well. Lately the kitchen and refrigerator are calling me, a taste of this, a nibble of that, sometimes a handful of nuts or a small slice of bread and butter, my plate piled high with food at mealtimes, eating it all even when I realize I'm full.

Who am I trying to kid? This is not following a food plan; this smacks of compulsive overeating. Oh, not like before.... not the whole box of cookies type of thing. But, when I return several times to the jar of nuts and have just a few more each time? That to my way of thinking is both compulsive and overeating.

back to
the first three steps
1 - admit I am powerless
over food
(all food, binge and otherwise)
yes, true
2 - accept that a higher power
can restore me to sanity
3 - turn my will over
(give the control to)
a higher power
yes, now

I thank my OA group, my sponsor, my walking partner and my husband for various insights that lead me to this improved understanding of my addiction and the process of recovery, especially as held in steps 1-3!

Dealing with Disappointment and Grief

How do I deal with disappointment and grief? Used to be I ate my way through it, cookie after cookie, chocolate after chocolate.

I have a very vague memory of when the pattern started. When my biological father died just before I turned five and my mother immediately decided to return to college, my brother and I were dispatched to live with our grandparents for two years. In my family, crying was definitely not OK. Daddy and Mommy were gone, but I was not to cry. One time at the breakfast table, when I started to cry, my grandmother tried to make it all better by pouring syrup on my waffle, noting that she was filling every hole. I actually recall looking at that delicious-smelling, thick, rich maple syrup, my tears evaporating as she filled all the holes with it.

How poignant! Filling every hole, indeed! Not filling any of the deep holes in little me, crying in disappointment or grief or loneliness. Yet, hmmm, she's paying attention to me, giving me something to fix my woes, sugar pops into my mouth bite after bite and guess what? I start to feel better. I learn that sugar fills my holes. NOT!

Indeed, she didn't know any better and I unconditionally forgive her. Yet, there began a life-time pattern of trying to fill grief holes with sugar. My OA sponsor says this is very common with women who overeat. She believes, when doing Step 4 (listing defects of character), that more of women's defects stem from grief than from resentment, which is common for men. She encourages me to look at how I've handled grief and disappointment in my life, at how pacifying with eating sugar may negatively affect my character and behaviours.

OK, I was 5 or so when the syrup incident happened and 67 when I stopped eating sugar as a solution. So for 62 years, I more or less unknowingly smothered my grief in sugar consumption. That's a long time.

What happens when I eat a lot of sugar is that I get cranky, really nasty sometimes. I can recall yelling at my parents, at my siblings, at girlfriends, at boyfriends, at co-workers and often at my poor husband after overdosing on sugar. Lots of mean spirited yelling over trivial things.

Interesting, isn't it, that this character defect, the yelling, is an indirect result of not dealing directly with grief and disappointment. I've doubtless harmed others, at least harmed my relationships with them, with my angry yelling, never even considering for a moment that the basis might be my own unexpressed grief rather than something they did to cause me irritation.

For the past seven months sugar has not been an option. Did I have disappointments and grief during that time? Yes. And I note that the anger response is still in me, even without the sugar to trigger mood swings. It's habitual. I need to change this. Awareness is the first step. Notice grief. Notice disappointment. Name it. Sit with it. When anger wells up in me, ask myself, what is making me feel sad.

Not OK to be on the pity pot? Nope, it's not. Yet, unfortunate, unplanned, unwanted, sad things happen. I must learn to recognize and allow grief into my life, and not just the big things like death of a loved one or pet, but also the day-to-day disappointments, even the ones that seem trivial. Not pity pot, but to be mindful of sadness, that is my journey now.

Tools of Recovery

Overeaters Anonymous, a program of recovery based on and very much like Alcoholics Anonymous, is deeper than I thought at first, offering a wide range of possibilities for change and healing, proven to work for many individuals. I stumbled into OA through reading Holy Hunger by Margaret Bullitt-Jonas, an amazingly honest and thorough exploration of her personal experiences with binging, purging, dieting, emotion-evading and all the crazy voices in her head which provided every excuse for continuing to eat compulsively.

Although I've never purged, all the rest, the angst, the yo-yo dieting, the binging and obsession with food, the voices, all as she described in her book were exactly as I've experienced for 60 years of my life. It is as if she wrote my story, not hers.

Her story and her book offer an addict, like me, great hope because she turned to OA, admitting her disease and her powerlessness. In accepting her weakness, accepting the support and fellowship of other OA members, accepting the help of a power greater than herself, she turned herself around and was able to stop eating compulsively, stop binging, stop feeling crazy, reach a desirable, healthy weight for her size and remain at that weight without the relentless struggle of dieting.

The biggest benefit, for me, is to stop feeling crazy. It really makes me feel crazy knowing absolutely, without a doubt, that eating a dozen cookies at a time is not a healthy thing to do, knowing that if I eat one, I'll continue eating them until they're gone, and yet I do it. More than the weight, more than the embarrassment about my food habits, more than high cholesterol and other health problems directly related to my eating, much more than all that, I hated the feeling of being crazy and my inability to resist the slightest temptation.

OA teaches us that this is not a motivation or will-power problem. This is a disease, a progressive disease, one that can not be cured with will-power, a diet, a pill, a stay in the hospital or surgery. Yet, it is not hopeless, as once I had thought.

The way I interpret OA, to arrest the symptoms of the disease, two parallel pathways must be followed. The first is to use the tools of OA to stop compulsive overeating. The other is to work the 12 Steps of OA (and AA) to gain a spiritual foundation for change. Tonight I want to write a little more about the tools and about how I am using them at present.

There are eight tools of recovery, as follows:

1. Food plan. Since I definitely suffer the binge syndrome of overeating, where I've been known to eat a whole box of cookies, a whole bag of candy or a whole pint of ice cream in one sitting, the first part of my food plan is to identify and eliminate these foods from my diet completely.

"Why can't I be like other people? Why can't I eat just two cookies or half a piece of chocolate cake?" I don't know the answer, really. It's part of the disease. The important point is not why, but just that not being able to resist or stop is a fact for me. There is no half-way. I ask myself, "Do I want to be abstinent on my binge foods today, just for today?" So far, the answer is "yes."

Other than two slips, I have not eaten any of my binge foods (candy, cake, cookies, pie, ice cream, pastries) since April 17th, which is 199 days!

Just today, in a coffee shop with a fellow OA member, I briefly noticed a huge display of tasty-looking and delicious-smelling assortment of muffins, rolls, sweet breads, cookies and cakes. In the past, I would have been obsessed with looking at them and selecting which one or ones I would eat or equally obsessed with not being able to eat them because of dieting. Today, I noticed them in passing, got my coffee, and thought no more about them until writing a description of them here.

My point? The obsessive compulsion about sweet things is gone! I attribute this delightful change to a food plan of abstaining from eating my particular binge foods. Another benefit? Well, for once, I don't dread the soon-upon-us holiday season, the time of year previously known for stuffing myself with every imaginable treat and gaining 10 to 20 pounds in three months.

The other part of my food plan is simply to eat three meals per day and nothing between meals. I don't pay much attention to what I eat, although "healthy choices" are ingrained after years of dieting. Not eating between meals is definitely a challenge, one I struggle with, particularly during meal preparation. Sometimes I stay with the plan; sometimes I don't. I do the best I can.

Although, because of a previously negative relationship to the scale, I do not weigh myself, I have lost weight, going from a snug size 18 jeans to a comfortable size 12 in the seven months I've been practicing my OA food plan.

2. Sponsorship. I am fortunate to have two sponsors.

One is my sister-in-law, who is 16 years sober in AA. She is an invaluable mentor, guide and support! Talking on the phone and emailing several times a week, she helps me to accept both my success and my failures, to understand the program, and most of all to have patience with it.

My other sponsor is a long-time member of my OA group. A spiritual guide, she is helping me to understand the 12 step program, to face myself and my disease with honesty and to seek help with this journey. I see her at meetings and meet with her one-on-one as needed. Right now, I'm fairly self-motivated, yet I feel her support and am grateful to know when I need her, she'll be there for me.

3. Meetings. I've written about our meetings fairly often, about how they're invaluable to me in this process of recovery. We are united in our weakness and in our commitment to recovery. We share our process and our inspiration to the benefit of all. What if, for some reason, there were no OA meetings where I live? Having experienced the understanding and fellowship of meetings, I would go instead to AA meetings or I would join an on-line, live-participation OA meeting. I am certain meeting are a significant tool in my recovery.

4. Telephone. This is a tool I haven't used very much as I'm not very fond of talking on the phone. Yet, I understand the importance of resisting isolation in recovery. I guess blogging (writing and reading) and emailing are forms of communication like the telephone, yet not so immediate. I shall consider using the telephone a bit more.

5. Writing. Of course this blog is all about writing my feelings, thoughts, process. I love writing here, reading other recovery blogs and the exchange, inspiration and support that happens between us, almost as if we are all meeting together. It's magic for me!

I must also write privately as I work the 12 steps. Here is another area where I'm dragging my feet at the moment. Time to call my sponsor and get some help.

6. Literature. Over the years, AA and OA have amassed a vast library of literature relevant to recovery. There are stories, history, workbooks and guides. I've read and been inspired by several of these, the most recent being The Big Book itself, the fourth edition of the original Alcohol Anonymous book, written by the founders of the program. Quite an unexpected treat, this book both instructs and inspires me, helping me to better understand the concept of alcoholism or compulsive overeating as a disease. I'm currently reading an OA workbook designed to help participants work through the 12 steps.

7. Anonymity. I respect the concept of anonymity in OA. It gives me power to be honest with myself and others. For this reason, I do not use my name or anybody's real name in this blog.

8. Service. Although I have taken responsibility for the meeting-room key, until today, I had not offered my service to anybody else suffering from overeating, at least not directly. Perhaps indirectly, as a result of reading my blog or talking with me about what it's like to suffer the disease of compulsive overeating, I may have been of some slight service to others. However, today I offered to be a food sponsor (as opposed to step sponsor, which by my own standards, I am not yet qualified to do) to another OA member. I don't know where this will lead or how it will be for her. But, I can say that for me, it feels like a good thing, a pathway that can only lead to greater learning and healing, hopefully for both of us.

So this is a summary of the tools and where I am with them in the OA program at this time. My gratitude for having learned of OA and for all the assistance I've received to date is boundless.

Working the Steps

Yesterday I went to an AA meeting with my brother and sister-in-law. Half my life ago, I quit drinking, a habit compulsion that got me into a lot of trouble during my 20s and 30s; but I never went to an AA meeting, just quit cold turkey one day. Surprisingly it wasn't very difficult to quit. Guess I'd had my fill of the repercussions of excess alcohol, plus I had my real addiction, food, still firmly in place. Good, reliable food, easy to hide, perfectly legal and socially acceptable.

Yet, for others it's clear that alcohol is their primary addiction and for them maintaining sobriety must be a huge challenge. My brother, bless his heart, has been clean and sober for 17 years. And at yesterday's meeting my SIL was awarded her 16-year sobriety pin. Everyone there spoke very highly of her, saying how much they admire and are inspired by her honesty. How great it was to be there, filled with respect for both of them!

Once a person has been sober for a while, feeling whole and sane again, not gripped by the need to drink, their life back on track, it must be easy to slip out of the program. Yesterday's meeting, however, was filled with long-time-sober folks who are working the steps, dealing with character issues that lead them into alcohol addiction, issues that still affect their lives and are always a threat to sobriety. The meeting topic was Step 6, We're entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

Ten thoughts I had while listening to others talk:

1. Defects of character sounds so horrible, yet I know I have them and can name a number of them.
2. Listing my defects of character happens in step 4, which is where I am at the moment in the OA program .
3. How can God remove them? Why would God remove them?
4. Would I be a genuine, whole person without them?
5. I want to fix it myself. I want to identify and then remove my character defects all by myself, no help needed, thank you. I can do this. I think I can, I think I can.
6. But I couldn't stop overeating by myself. That is a fact, proven over and over.
7. I'd be more accepting of step 6 if it were worded differently, if it said, We're entirely ready to have God help us remove all these defects of character, leaving us somewhat in control of our own destiny.
8. To turn it all over to God? Well, that's a concept I resist.
9. Not there yet, I'm only working step 4. Maybe by the time I get to step 6, the concept will have grown on me.
10. My will be done/Thy will be done.... that is the conflict.

What came to me in the meeting as a certainty is that following a food plan and remaining abstinent from my binge foods is just the tip of the ice berg. Yes, I feel much more sane. Yes, I feel more peaceful and less resentful since I began working the program six months ago. Yes, I've lost weight, am more healthy and more fit. Yes, yes, yes!

Yet, like the alcoholic, my underlying character, my unresolved issues, my lack of faith threaten to undermine progress and send me back to food for solace. I accept the challenge, with a nod to my brother, SIL and other participants in yesterday's meeting, of working the AA/OA steps as best I can, with the realization pointed out by my SIL yesterday that I can work the same steps over and over, each time learning something new, each time finding new levels of peace.

Day 77..... again....

Today is my 77th day of abstinence, round two. The first 77 days went quite well and then on day 78 I decided to have an ice cream cone, a breach of abstinence. So I began the count again at zero the next day. At the time, it seemed like it would take forever to reach day 77 again. Yet, here I am! Actually, it's gone rather quickly and painlessly.

Tomorrow will be challenging. I'm taking a class and there will be goodies on the tables and along a buffet counter all day long. I'm taking my favorite cottage cheese and apple lunch. Also, I plan to be hyper aware if the candy bowl on our table is causing me any trouble. If it does, I'll ask my table mates if we can remove it! Promise!

Yes, I have a plan... yet today I am reminded of how fragile sobriety is and of how easy it is to think I have control of the situation. No I don't, not me. Control is an illusion.

A dear friend lost a LOT of weight mostly by working the Weight Watchers program. She'd also been in OA for a long time and understands/accepts her addiction. For me, she's totally validated the idea of loosing weight and maintaining the loss. I know it's possible because of her.

Well, it's been more than a year since I saw her last. Now she's here visiting and I see she's put much of her weight back on again since then.

Fragile sobriety. Something pops. We turn a corner and smack our faces into a chocolate decadence cake. The bottom is reached and up we go again. The dreaded yo-yo. I'm without words to express my sadness about her upward swing or about my fear of all the corners ahead in my own recovery process.

Yet the OA literature is full of stories by those who have recovered - regained their sanity, changed their emotional responses to life's irritants and held to a healthy food plan - staying clean and sober for decades.

Will I be like them or like my friend? I don't know. I can only pray for help and keep trying one day at a time.

Me and Chocolate

I've known about my addictive relationship to chocolate for a long time. Here's the story of when I realized and admitted it for the first time.

It is spring of 1996. I'm in the habit of getting two chocolate fixes a day. I don't keep it in the house, because actually that's impossible. Whatever I have, I immediately eat. So I go out to get my fixes. I run a bead shop in my studio, open by appointment. Today I have a morning customer and one in the afternoon. Between them, I plan to go buy myself a treat (always it's chocolate, although I use the word treat rather than naming it).

Morning customer comes late and stays late. Afternoon customer comes early. They overlap. No treat. I am fidgeting and irritable. I want Ms. Afternoon to leave. I don't care how many beads she'd like to buy; I want her gone. I'm short with her, nearly rude. Finally she goes.

I race to my car and am driving away mere seconds after she leaves. I drive to the closest grocery store. I rush to the bakery/deli to see what they have. OK... triple-layer, double-chocolate cake! I tell the clerk I need a big piece because two of us are splitting it. She puts it in a to-go box. I grab a fork and a napkin and bee-line to my car. In my car, I slink down and eat the whole piece of cake. Two minutes and it's gone. I've gobbled it.

I realize I didn't taste it after the first bite. I feel remorse. Remorse for being rude to my customers. Remorse for telling a lie to the clerk about splitting the piece of cake. Remorse for hiding in my car. Remorse for continuing to abuse my body.

It dawns on me, sitting dejected in my car, that I am a chocolate addict, exhibiting all of the behaviors of an alcoholic only about chocolate rather than alcohol. In that moment, I realize chocolate had a grip on me that makes me feel crazy and that I can not control my intake. I decide on a course of abstinence.

Well, that lasted for about 3 years. Then I started sneaking chocolate once in a while when I was in town. Once in a while soon became a daily fix. Then twice a day. WAKE UP! OK, back to abstinence for a few more years.

Then I decided I would have chocolate only one time a year... on my birthday. Didn't work... One time became the first of many times and the fixes ruled me once again. Quit again. Fell off the wagon one more time, binged repeatedly, lied, hid the stuff, sneaked around eating it in my car.

Always during periods of chocolate abstinence, I continued to crave it... big time! I thought about it every day. I spent hours in the grocery store looking for chocolate substitutes. I tried every type of lemon dessert there is... cookies, ice cream, cake, pie, cheesecake and tarts. I tried peanut-butter cookies and raspberry bars. I tried butter pecan ice cream and apple fritters. You name it. I tried it. Always I wanted and craved chocolate... tried to find a substitute... something else to give me that same buzz.

I never found it. And I never binged as badly on the substitutes, rarely had to get two fixes a day like with chocolate. But I did binge some. My craving for chocolate was incessant and nagging.

On April 3rd, 2010, I finished reading Holy Hunger by Margaret Bullitt-Jonas and realized fully and without a doubt that I am a compulsive overeater and that I can not control my eating and binging by myself. On April 7th, 2010, I attended my first meeting of Overeaters Anonymous and sensed I had finally found help.

I've been on a sensible food plan and abstinent (with one slip) from all chocolate, cookies, cake, pie, cheesecake, ice cream, candy and pastries ever since then. My body is slowly changing... when I started I wore a snug size 18 jeans. Now I'm wearing size 12. My mind is changing a lot. I don't feel crazy anymore. I'm learning to feel my feelings. I'm starting to work the 12-step program and feeling positive about the progress I'm making.

One of the most interesting things in my OA experience so far is about chocolate. Since being abstinent about chocolate AND other binge foods, I no longer crave chocolate or even think about it much. If very good quality chocolate is right in front of me, I might find myself thinking it smells really good. But then I move away from it both physically and mentally. I'm not looking for a substitute. It's hold on me is finally breaking. One day at a time, I am becoming a sober person!

Who Are Our REAL Friends?

Funny thing happened at our County Fair a couple of weeks ago. A friend and I were walking through the main building past the exhibitions of baking and canning where they always put out samples of the baked goods. I'm a sucker for samples... Unless I'm really being conscious, I put out my hand without even thinking.

And that's sort of what happened. I noticed a tray of cookie bits and another tray of small slices from the cakes. Nope, uh-uh... those are binge foods. Oh, but loooookie here... a tray of breads! Several chunks of white bread and here's a very dark-looking bread, maybe pumpernickel or Russian rye? Breads are not on my binge list, so conveniently overlooking my food plan which does not include any eating between meals, my hand went out and snagged that dark bread.

"But wait!" cautioned my friend, who knows about my OA commitments and sometimes reads this blog, "You don't want to eat that!"

Oh yeah? Them there're fightin' words... The fast-acting, non-thinking rebel in me had that bite in my mouth before she finished her thought. Munch, munch.... Uh-oh... this isn't pumpernickel or rye... this is sweet bread, raisin-zucchini maybe. That would be in the pastry department, wouldn't it? Yep, on my binge list. Oh sh**t! Too late to spit it out... down the hatch already.

I didn't say anything about it to my friend; nor did she mention it again. But I thought about it a lot... thought about the rebel in me and about how she gets me in trouble... about how I might want to look at that and do some 4th step work around my rebellious nature.

A week later at our OA meeting, I told this sad tale. When it was his turn to speak, one of the other members talked about his past habits of unconscious eating and rebellious eating. Then he said something very important. He said, referring to my friend, "Those are our REAL friends... the ones who ask us 'Do you really want to eat that?' The kind of friends who say, 'Oh come on, you can have a little taste' or 'just this once won't hurt you' are the ones we don't need around us." Right on, bro!

So, if my REAL friend is reading this post, I thank you kindly for your support and encourage you to nudge me any time you see me faltering. The rebel may win, but your words will stay with me and help me to win the next time.

100 Days

Today would have been day 100 of abstinence if I hadn't put my hand out to receive an ice cream cone on day 77. Because of that, I set my counter back to zero. On my second try, I'm at day 23, making a total of 100 days of following my food plan and staying abstinent from my binge foods.

To celebrate a total of 100 days on the job (77+23), I'm going to write one of my 10-things lists...

Ten Things About 100 Days of Abstinence

1. It's been much easier than I thought it would be.
2. I rarely obsess or even think about what I'm going or not going to eat.
3. I feel more calm than I have for a long time.
4. I seem to get more done and have a tad more energy.
5. I'm starting to be more aware of my feelings and to be able to name them.
6. I look forward to the weekly OA meetings.
7. I think I can continue doing this for another 100 days.
8. However, I will still try to take it just one day at a time.
9. It feels as though a more honest me is emerging.
10. I started at size 18 jeans and now my 14s are starting to feel a bit baggy.

Ten MORE Things About 100 Days of Abstinence

1. Dropping sizes is good, but the real reward is the return to a foundation of sanity.
2. I've only felt a strong urge to have binge foods one or two times.
3. I cheat a little with my food plan by having a taste or nibble now and then while preparing meals.
4. I have to keep a wary eye on nibbling and tasting. Right now I'm being lenient about it, but that may need to change.
5. I've started taking better care of myself in other ways, such as doing arm exercises.
6. I believe the 12-step program is an important part of making this a life change. I am working on step 4 using an event writing method suggested by a member of my OA group. It takes a lot of time.
7. I haven't weighed myself at all, not even on day one. My "no scale" policy is working very well for me.
8. Writing this blog is very helpful in understanding and placing value on my food addiction recovery process.
9. Reading other recovery blogs and exchanging comments is inspirational, instructive and motivating for me.
10. I got tears in my eyes at Saturday's OA meeting. I rarely cry (once or twice a year?) and never in public.

Re-reading my two lists, I'd have to give this period of time at least 5 bright, optimistic stars!

Avoidance

Mia culpa... I am avoiding writing about the second challenge mentioned two posts ago. And it's already here, blossoming to full size in about 9 hours. I am avoiding because I don't want to tell or face the whole truth about the situation. I don't want to deal with the past and I am a little apprehensive about the future.

In this moment all is well. I am following my food plan and doing what I have to do. I am sane and sober.

But I feel insecurity creeping toward me. Will writing help? I don't want my journal to read like true confessions, even though it is for me and for my healing.... I'm waffling about this.

So, guess I'll write the outline... the part that is more or less factual... the part that isn't so much about my feelings.

About 30 years ago I was in Eastern Europe, then under Communist control, and met a family, who were members of an ethnic minority group in the country where they lived. Their ethnic group suffered much persecution. The father (I'll call him J) wanted to get his two children out of that country and raise them in a politically free country.

I helped by getting information for them and by raising money to pay for bribes and expenses (getting the family out of the country was very tricky). For a while, they lived in a limbo status in another country. I visited them there a few times.

After a couple of years living hand to mouth, moving frequently, trying to get into Western Europe but not succeeding, they finally found an opportunity to get into Denmark as political refugees. There they settled, learning Danish, adjusting to a very different culture and eventually becoming citizens.

When they first went to Denmark, they knew nobody. J and his wife were worried about what would happen to the kids if anything should happen to them. I agreed in writing to take full responsibility for the two children if it were ever necessary.

I had four extended visits with the family in Denmark. The last time I saw them as a family of four was 17 years ago. The daughter came to visit me in the USA the year after that. And J came to my home for a brief visit 8 years ago.

In 9 hours J is arriving here for a second visit. My husband, J and I are going on a 4-day motorcycle ride. J will be here for 6 days.

What does all this have to do with my recovery? Well there's the obvious... Have guest = eat more, richer foods. Travel = eat more, get hungrier. Stress = eat more. That's the surface challenge about the week ahead. I know how to deal with that type of challenge... I have my plan and my talisman!

However, under the obvious there's a more significant challenge. When I met J and got to know him over periodic visits to the family in Europe, I greatly admired his strength of character, daring and determination. I began to really love this amazing person. Actually, that was part of it. The other part was that I developed a ginornous crush on him.

My addictions (in addition to the mother addiction of overeating and certain foods) include tobacco (3 packs Pall Mall every day, quit in 1968), alcohol (sober since 1985) and love. Love addiction is the strangest thing... For me it was not sex addiction, even though sex is often desirable as proof of love. It wasn't sex I wanted at all; it was to be loved.

My love addiction manifested itself as crushes, mostly on unavailable or uninterested men. I would constantly obsess about a man on whom I had a crush. Sometimes I would almost stalk the person, hound them with notes/letters.

Poor J. He was very fond of me. But he was also married and totally in love with his wife. For me, it was very confusing. I loved and admired the whole family, including his wife, in a healthy and reasonable way. But at the same time, he was the object of my passionate obsession for a long time, maybe 10 years.

Because of my lust for J, I broke up with my steady boyfriend/partner of 13 years. I only wanted J.

Then some things changed. I began writing poetry with a group of recovering alcoholics, drug addicts and one sex addict. For the first time, I began to see my crushes for what they really were... an addiction to love... obsessive and compulsive attachments that were not reality-based. I awakened to the fact that I could love J as a friend and let go of the notion that he could (0r ever would) be a romantic partner.

After that, I met my husband (1997) and consider myself happily married. No more crushes. J was the last. Not even a hint of it in the 13 years I've been with my husband. Even when J called to tell me his wife had suddenly died of a brain tumor, I did not give more than idle thought to the fact that he was now available.

J and I are close friends. I've stood next to him through many important life changes. We have a strong bond, an emotional and intellectual connection similar to my relationship with two of my brothers and my husband.

So now J is coming here. His visit brings up the past for me... reminds me of my addiction to love. I've been having memory flash-backs about those days when I adored him in such an unhealthy, odd way. We did not have an affair, although at one point I would have if the circumstances had been different. I am ashamed about that. I wonder if I want to talk with him about it? I wonder if there is some way I can make amends. Most of all I want the impossible... to apologize to his wife for the lust I carried for J. But to him as well. It could not have been easy to be my friend.

So the challenge ahead is to feel my feelings, accept my memories of who I was back then, forgive myself for my mistakes and my addictions, and pray for guidance in matters of making amends with J. That's it. That's the challenge I face right now.

365.242199 Days??????

The people in my OA group are fabulous!!! I like and admire every one of them!

Yesterday at the meeting, one person talked about how she used to overeat until she was stuffed and uncomfortable in any position. But that ever since she fully accepted she's powerless over food, it became easy to not overeat or binge. She went on to say that another woman then in the group, who was successful in not overeating for a long time, inspired her when she was new to it. She said, "I want to be like her. I want to be "clean and sober" (not overeat) for a whole year." Today she has met and exceeded her goal.

I certainly recall many instances of stuffing myself until I was in agony. Just recently (March) my husband and I were on vacation in Arizona. Twice in three days we went to a casino near where we were staying to have their "all you can eat" dinners. Both times we stuffed ourselves mercilessly to the point where we had to unbutton our jeans on the way home, take multiple tums and anti-acid tabs and were grossly uncomfortable for the rest of the evening and into the night. Twice we did it!!!!

One of the other members of my OA group talked about how "normal" stuffing ourselves has become in our society. How families take it for granted that at holidays, parties, potlucks, church events, etc. everyone gets stuffed and nobody thinks anything of it.

Anyway, in 43 days of abstinence, I can happily say that I've not been stuffed once. I like it!!! My sanity is returning!

Since the meeting, I've been thinking about the possibility of one year of abstinence and whether or not I want to identify it as a goal. So far, it's worked well for me to think of my food plan as "one day at a time." Just for today, I can stick to it. It seems that setting a goal toward one year of sobriety sounds a little like "one year at a time." Just for this one year, I can stick to it.

Hmmmm... I'm not so sure I can embrace a whole year... Not that I wouldn't love to be there at the other end of 365.242199 days, looking back and saying, "I like it!!! My sanity has returned!"