5 minute read

Gift of Desperation

Next Article
My Bum

My Bum

When I was 20, I joined a Twelve-Step program for compulsive overeating. Years later, I joined a group that branched off to become FA (Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous). At the time, I weighed just under 200 pounds (about 91 kilos) at 5- feet, 3-inches tall. I was very unhappy, but I couldn’t do the program. Weighing and measuring food, calling a sponsor every morning, and going to meetings was overwhelming, and I still wanted to eat addictively. I wanted to be thin, but I also wanted to binge. I wasn’t able to stop the hand-tomouth behavior. Consequently, I found myself at meetings with a head full of FA (that is, whatever was getting in through my sugar-and-flour fog) and a belly full of food.

I went through sponsors like water through fingers. I took their suggestions “in my own way.” A sponsor would say, “I wouldn’t go to that party if I were as newly abstinent as you are,” and I would think, Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. You’re old and have a boring life. But I can handle it! I heard what I wanted to hear. Choosing to ignore most of the suggestions from my respective sponsors, I wound up in the food every time.

Nine months later, I had become suicidally depressed. I no longer wanted to binge, but I found I could not stop. The thoughts about jumping in front of subway trains or pulling a hair dryer into the shower were terrifying. They were worse than the food thoughts that had plagued me since I was a child. The fear got so bad I stopped feeling safe leaving my dorm room, and developed full-on agoraphobia, just like the guy in the Big Book (Alcoholics Anonymous) who is reluctant to walk around the block.

I was obese, depressed, manic, wore too much makeup, and had a boyfriend who made my skin crawl. My way was clearly not working.

One winter night, I went to a holiday party in our dorm after promising my sponsor I wouldn’t go. I walked into the party and saw two rooms. One room had long tables piled high with platters full of endless offerings of sugar, flour, and holiday drinks. In the other room were people singing Christmas carols. I went into the music room, consciously avoiding the room with the food.

A few songs later, I switched to the room with the food. (So much for willpower.) I studied the heaping platters and selected one small item that I shoved into my mouth. Although my program “abstinence” at that time was moderate meals with nothing in between—the meals becoming mountainous after a couple of days—I had successfully avoided sugar and flour for several weeks. When that bite hit my tongue, a switch flipped, my tastebuds exploded, and I felt as though every cell in my body had turned on.

I grabbed a few other desserts and put them on a plate. I found a friend to talk to, but I didn’t hear a word he was saying. I remember watching his mouth moving and hearing nothing. In fact, I heard no sound at all. It was as if my life were a show on TV and someone had pressed mute.

I grabbed more treats and left. I found a half-eaten item in the hallway, shoved it into my mouth, and then polished off the rest.

Then I had an idea. I ran upstairs to the dorm room of a boy with whom I’d been obsessed for a few weeks. I knocked on the door and he answered. I stood there, staring for a moment, and then blurted out, “I wanted to come by because I’ve been staring at you for several weeks!” The boy grinned and then looked me right in the eyes and asked, “Continuously?” I sure knew how to pick them.

I was utterly humiliated. I left the building and ran to buy more food. That night the suicidal thoughts were worse than they had ever been. I called a friend and asked if I could stay at her dorm room for the night because I didn’t feel safe. Images of selfharm were invading my mind with a force, and I was scared.

I consider that night the lowest point in my addiction. I admitted I was beaten. It’s painful to remember the amount of despair in which I found myself, but the blessing was that my mind opened with the “gift of desperation.” Shortly after that, I found a new sponsor, and this time I meant business. I got abstinent. I feel blessed to have abstained from sugar, flour, or quantities for more than 30 years. I lost 80 pounds (about 36 kilos) in that first year or so of honest abstinence, and other than my three pregnancies, have maintained that weight loss for many years. It wasn’t easy finishing college and going to graduate school as an abstinent woman in recovery. FA, however, gave me the strength and support I needed to succeed. Today, I am 54 years old. I’ve had a second chance at life and I know that whatever I decide and wherever God places me, I will be happy, joyous, and free, like the Big Book describes. How lucky I am!

This article is from: