Hi again

Hey, it's the prodigal compulsive overeater. I'm not doing so well right now. I'm eating fairly well. Not being compulsive for the most part. But I feel very fat. That's always the hardest part for me. I just want to be thin and I feel so gross. I went to a wedding this past weekend, and I bought a really pretty dress, and I felt so pretty in it but when I saw pictures of myself I saw that I wasn't pretty at all. I looked like an ugly girl in a pretty dress.

I can't afford to see a psychiatrist, which I desperately need to do. And I can't seem to motivate myself to go to the gym, which I should also do. I work 9-10 hours a day, and by the time I get home the last thing I want to do is get into a pair of shorts and sneakers and hit the treadmill.

So, I'm depressed, I feel fat, I feel ugly and I have no motivation. I've been trying to pray more, but all I can think when I do that is that I'm talking to myself or to a giant black hole of nothingness. I am sad.

I'm going to an OA meeting tonight, and that usually makes me feel better. But oftentimes I don't say what I'm really feeling because I know I'll end up crying. As open and welcoming as an OA meeting is, I don't want to cry in front of a room full of strangers. Sigh.

I've also been dreaming about my dad a lot. A few nights ago I dreamed that he had a heart attack several floors into a subway system and I had no cell service so I couldn't call 911, and by the time I reached the surface he had died.

Last night I dreamed that he came to visit me in Silver Spring and I showed him my new apartment. In my dream he wasn't having much trouble walking and we were getting along...two things that pretty much never happen.

I feel this is a sign of some kind, but I'm not sure what. I tend to believe that our dreams reveal things to us from our subconscious that we have trouble seeing while awake. But I also believe that they can just represent those things that are on our mind the most at any given moment, and my dad has been on my mind a lot lately. He's been very present in my Step 9 work, especially since I'm having a lot of trouble accepting the fact that I should apologize to him.

In any case, that's it. Maybe I'll blog more now.

I'm back

Once again, I have not updated for a long time. Sorry about that...if I even have any readers left to apologize to. haha.

Anyway, I once again "attended" a phone meeting tonight. And I heard one thing I really loved; one woman said, "My food is quiet. Isn't doesn't sing and dance anymore."

I just LOVE that. Quiet food...what a thought.

It's been a rough couple of weeks, and I've finally got back to abstinence the past few days with the help of a good friend.

I think I'm going to do a gratitude list:

1. Gwen, always there, for OA and anything else. She'll never know what she means to me.
2. Mithun, my boyfriend, who for some unfathomable reason loves me still.
3. My co-workers, for letting me go home when I'm sick. Actually, for MAKING me go home when I'm sick, even when there's tons of work to do at the office.
4. For my Dad, who inspired me to make a call that I should have made weeks ago.
5. For all my good friends, OA and otherwise, who are more like family than anything else.
6. For corticosteroids...without which I may not be breathing right now (terribly cold combined with asthma...not so good).
7. Phone meetings
8. My iPhone (I know...lame. But hey, you do what you gotta do haha)
9. Cats. I just love them. They're just so goddamn adorable. I sort of wish I had one haha

Okay, good night!

I tried to pray today, oh boy...(sung as "A day in the life")

It's so striking to me how some days can be so easy and some days can be so hard. And it's even weirder in that the more stressed I am, the better I am about food! Not always, but it does seem that normal days, days where I have nothing to be worried about at all, are the days I want to eat the most. I've tried for so long to figure out how and why this could possibly be, and the only thing I can think of is that when I'm stressed, I'm distracted. I simply have other things on my mind that take precedence over food. When I'm not stressed, when I'm just relaxing, watching TV, I am so much more alone. The food has more room to occupy in my mind.

Or perhaps, subconsciously, I'm afraid of my thoughts. You know, the self hatred, the loneliness, the fear, blah blah blah. Maybe I let the food sneak in so I have something else to think about.

Anyone else have a similar issue?

In other news, I meant to post this awhile ago, and I never did! I guess I just forgot. It's from about 3 weeks ago:

Tonight, I prayed. I bowed down on the floor, arms stretched out in front of me, legs under my stomach, eyes closed, and prayed.

Well, I tried to pray. I kept thinking about the Paul McCartney concert. So, instead of trying to speak, I just imagined myself bowed down before the Universe. The Universe is my HP, so I thought this was appropriate. I wanted to feel small. So, I bowed down to the Universe, which I imagine basically as space…eternal black of the abyss, with the twinkling of stars and planets every so often, and I, bowed down, floating in space.

I could smell my carpet, which reminded me I needed to vacuum, but I decided not to get distracted and went back to bowing before the Universe. I was actually bowed down in front of my closet, which is so full of dirty laundry I’m sure even the worst of heretics would find it blasphemous to kneel down before such a filthy alter.

In any case, I tried to pray, and that’s a step.

Such is life.

This entry has nothing to do with OA, but I want to write about it and don't feel comfortable posting it on my other blog (which is very public).

I just received word that my Nana is very ill and likely will die this afternoon. She has had Alzheimer's for a long time and has been in a "memory care center" for a little over a year. A few days ago she refused to stop eating, drinking and taking her medications (of which there are many). Essentially, she decided to give up.

I don't blame her. She can't form sentences, she wets the bed, she barely remembers who she is. She lives in a very nice home for people with dementia and Alzheimer's...but of course all the residents there wonder around like zombies, not knowing who they are or where they are. It's a sad place, though the employees try to make it as nice as possible, and they do a great job. But, inherently, places like that are just depressing. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if I were in that situation, and my husband had died 10 years earlier, I think I, too, would decide it was my time. And I do think that she decided it. Even if she can't remember her name, her son's name or the person she was 30, 10 or even two years ago, I think she had the capacity to know that the way she was living was not really living at all.

I don't want to be political, so please don't take this entry offensively. My mom said it's so common for people to say that "pulling the plug" is playing god, but she felt that extending life to a certain point is also playing god in a sense. I have to agree. Sometimes it's just time.

Now, while right now I am sort of in shock and preparing for a phone call any minute from someone (most likely my mom, as my dad may be handling funeral arrangements), I am deeply saddened. I have greatly disliked my Nana for most of my life. That side of the family is just...weird. Manipulative, mean and conniving are probably better adjectives, and my father (it's his mom) has disliked them more than I have. The past few years I have seen my Nana probably once or twice and talked to her by phone maybe a handful of times. She just was not someone I wanted to speak with, especially since she was so awful to my mother, who was nothing but kind and helpful to her--more so than my dad!

But, I know she loved me. She wanted to see me go to college (I did, thanks to a financial situation she was partially responsible for), and she wanted to see me graduate from college. She was just too ill to make the five hour trip for the ceremony, but I visited her right before, though I don't think she had any idea about the graduation. But, she was so happy to see me. In truth, I was happy to see her, too. Like I said before, she could barely speak, but it was okay. I was glad we could communicate through smiles...for once in both of our lives. I'm glad I got to see her one more time, and when I left, she was able to actually say, "So happy to be with people I love."

I hope she doesn't die thinking my entire family hated her. It's a difficult thing to admit: that you really did dislike someone for most of your life when that person is on their deathbed. The guilt is enormous. She really did love her grandchildren, but she was brought up in a very manipulative and suffocating environment (I won't delve into details), so of course she was that way herself. Needless to say, it made our relationship difficult.

Does this entry make any sense? I'm really not sure. I just hope she is at peace.

Step 6

I finally finished Step 6. After a few months, I feel that I can honestly say I am ready to move on to Step 7. I did this in an interesting way, at the suggestion of my [now former] sponsor. She suggested that for each of the defects I listed when I did Step 4, I answer the following questions:

1) How does this defect hurt me?

2) How does it help?

3) Use whichever question(s) seem most relevant: If I didn’t have this defect, What would I be like? Or… What would my life be like? Or… What would be different?

It was an interesting assignment, and I thought that it was especially interesting to think about how certain defects help me. Like, "Well, I'm impatient, crass, judgmental and fearful of the future...but it's actually a good thing! Really!"

But seriously, it was very helpful. In listing not only the harmful aspects of the defects, but the helpful aspects as well, I was able to see where my real problems lie. For example, so many of my defects made me feel like I was in control, which is why I continue to have them. I want to feel in control, so I continue to be judgmental, impatient, etc. And why do I feel the need to be in control? Well, I guess that kind of psychoanalysis will have to wait for another entry.

Here's my gratitude list for the evening:

OA meetings

OA literature

blogger.com

my elementary school for teaching me to write

my job

my bed (what?? It's comfy!!)

health

Good night!

I've been on a diet my entire life...

This is one of my earliest questions I worked on from when I started OA. I wonder how many other compulsive overeaters have similar stories. Please, if you wish, share yours by commenting.

My first memory of compulsively overeating was when I was about 6. I wanted more cookies after dinner, so I stole some from the kitchen and ran to my room and hid them in my bed. I remember asking my mom when I was in 4^th grade how long it would take to lose 20 pounds, and she said that I kept asking but I never actually tried. I dieted in middle school and lost a lot of weight. In high school there were times when I went on “serious” diets by counting calories. I’ve tried calorie counting so many times on and off, including my freshman year of college, when it worked to a point and then I stopped and went back to my old habits.

I’ve never been able to just leave food on a plate, unless I really didn’t like it. I remember I used to like when my parents left the house so I could have the kitchen to myself and eat whatever I wanted. At parties, I was never able to resist the snack bowls, and I always watched other people to see how much they were eating. I tried not to eat more than other people, and I always rationalized how much I was eating, like if I ate a ton of chips I could say other people ate more at dinner.

In social settings I would always try to find other people who were fatter than I was so I wouldn’t be the fattest person in a room.

My freshman year of college, I gained about 25-30 pounds. I tried going to the gym, but I hate exercising because of my asthma. I tried calorie counting. I tried just being healthier, but I just couldn’t stop myself from eating, especially at night.

I went to a therapist with a specialty in eating disorders, and she helped for awhile, but I felt like it was just another diet. I was in therapy last year to relieve some of my constant anxiety and depression, but that didn’t really help the eating. I finally came to OA because I figured it was worth a shot. I was so preoccupied with what I looked like and what I was eating all the time, and I was never able to control myself…which is something my therapists never understood. They seemed to be in the “willpower” boat, and I have plenty of willpower, but that isn’t good enough for me with food.

I guess I’ve been on a diet my entire life. I’ve been comparing myself to other people and their eating habits my entire life. I’ve always regained back any weight I’ve lost. And it seems like any free space in my mind was always dedicated to the food obsession. I would either think about what I was going to eat, what I shouldn’t eat, what I wanted to eat but vowed I wouldn’t, or just how fat I was in general.

I think I'll pray today.

I want to feel God. I don't think I'll ever be able to. I'm too neurotic to ever sit down and meditate and feel the divine within me, expanding my chest, inducing existential realization. I'll always be wondering about what comes next, why did I say something I said to someone three days earlier and shoot, I forgot to mail my keys to my old landlord.

Isn't experiencing the divine supposed to be like...calm? I'm not a calm person. I don't think calm people eat compulsively. If there is a calm person that does, I have yet to meet them.

I've been getting into Eastern Philosophy lately...sparked somewhat by "Eat. Pray. Love." but also by hearing about Hinduism from my boyfriend, who is first generation Indian (Bengali, specifically). I have completely rejected Christianity...and Islam and Judaism for that matter. Too much dogma. Too many rules. Too much hate for those who are different.

I just don't see the world that way.

Virtual Recovery

A few days ago I finally made it to a meeting...well...it was a phone meeting. I had just gotten off the phone with my sponsor a little after 10pm and realized that if I was going to go to a meeting, then now was as good time as any. So, I looked up the times for a phone meeting, and sure enough, there was one at 10pm. I was only a few minutes late.

I was very skeptical. So much of OA for me is the community, and that comes through so much more when you're meeting with fellow OA-ers in person. But, considering my insane schedule, a phone meeting had to do.

The group leader chose to talk about the traditions. I HATE the traditions. I never saw them as really applicable. I'm more of a 12 steps and Big Book person. They're so much more personal to me. But as with any OA meeting, I got something out of it.

A woman on the phone (from Louisiana I believe) said she just loved the third tradition:

"The only requirement for OA membership is a desire to stop eating compulsively."

I have never really thought about that. But damn, that really did mean something. No matter how long I'm away, no matter how bad I may feel, I always have this to come back to. Even when I don't accept myself, OA does. It takes me as I am, as long as I desire to stop eating compulsively...and that won't ever be a problem. And, I don't even have to WORK. I just have to WISH I didn't eat compulsively. That's an easier club to join than the Church of Scientology!

Anyway, I'm grateful.

Also, the OA Web site has been redone, and it looks great! Check it out at www.oa.org

Phone meetings (USA) can be found at: http://www.oa.org/pdfs/phone_mtgs.pdf

More rambling incoherencies that may or may not be a book review.

I would like to share my thoughts on a book with you. It's a popular book, I'm sure you've heard of it, but that should by no means diminish the value of it. Eat. Pray. Love. by Elizabeth Gilbert.

You can easily find multiple reviews on many Web sites and in many newspapers, so I'm just going to sum this beautiful book up as follows:

This book, a little over 300 pages, took me about three months to read. It absolutely should not have taken that long, but I think I avoided reading it on a steady basis because I was afraid. It brought out so much in me that I did not want to see or think about or acknowledge. Eat. Pray. Love. is a memoir (all true) about a woman's search "for everything across Italy, India and Indonesia." In the regular world, this is a book for emotional women. But, I believe, it is also a book for addicts.

Compulsive overeaters like myself should not be afraid to read this book because the word "eat" is in the title. For the author, this was simply a word for pleasure, pleasure of which she had not believed herself to be worthy. Addicts hate themselves. Not always and not completely, but one must hate themselves at least a little to believe themselves worthy of the torment we put ourselves through. This book is about allowing yourself to experience pleasure.

It was also about spiritual journeys. As any good urban professional 20-something is, I am a flavor-of-the-week spiritualist. I was raised Catholic. I became skeptic in high school, explored for a bit, decided nothing made sense (excluding Eastern Philosophy, which I ignorantly deemed as simply too weird), and became an ardent, political atheist. Then, I met OA, decided something out there was bigger than myself, and that's where I am now. Somewhere.

It's hard to feel ok with this when every day we are bombarded with bad news about genocide, war, terror, etc etc etc everywhere in the world. You need to believe in something...and not to have something firm on which to ground yourself...yikes! Especially when you ARE an urban professional 20-something.

Well, Eat. Pray. Love. says that's ok. Moreover, it made me even more interested in Hinduism and Buddhism than I have been over the past year (I've been dating an Indian, and he's taught me a lot about Hindu philosophy. It's not weird. If anything, it makes a whole lot more sense than Christianity...to me anyway).

And it spoke to me in a lot of other ways...ways that may be too personal or incapable of being described in a rambling blog post, for which I apologize profusely.

Since moving, starting my job, and not getting to a meeting in over a month (see previous post), I have been having a hard time loving myself. I just feel...unworthy. Thinking about this fact, prompted by the book that took me three months to finish, makes me cry. But that's good. Crying is evidence of emotion, of vitality, of real-ness. I am grateful for this.

I would like to share the last line of the book with you (whoever you are...wherever you are). It really spoke to me, since I, like many addicts, feels the need to so desperately convey gratitude to everyone in a tangible way, perhaps through gifts or excessive verbal thanks...sometimes for unhealthy reasons. Myself, I just want to be loved. Here it is:

"In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back to people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it's wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices."

Homework assignment...

My sponsor asked me to do a homework assignment and write why I haven't gone to a meeting in awhile. It's been about a month and a half.

Here goes:

I haven't been to a meeting because it's been hard to find time. I tried to go once, but all the doors to the church were locked and I ended up setting off the alarm. It was frustrating. Every Tuesday since then (Tuesday is the night of the most convenient meeting for me) I have had plans with friends. I had a softball game, I went to a trivia night at a bar, or I hung out with my boyfriend.

Of course when it comes down to it, there are meetings all over the DC Metro area. I shouldn't limit myself to just Tuesday nights in Silver Spring. But after work, I am just exhausted! I don't want to pick myself up and go to a meeting. It eats up my night...no pun intended. I would much rather go out with friends than go to a meeting. I mean, I like meetings. I always am glad that I go, but when decision time comes I always mess up and don't go.

I guess it's a lot like eating decisions. I know I should stay abstinent and eat what's good for me, but when it comes to actually making the choice, sometimes I don't go down the path that is best for me. Speaking of eating, it's been getting progressively worse since the last time I was at a meeting. If anything should tell me to get off my lazy ass and go admit my disease to a group of anonymous strangers, it really should be that.

Things haven't been awful, but they haven't been great. I've also been more neurotic, more stressed, and more obsessive (synonym for neurotic, but I'm really trying to hammer home this point).

I guess I'll look up a phone meeting on OA.org.

A Rough Week.

Hello all you readers...who may or may not exist.

It's been a tough week. I've been "bad" lately. I haven't gone to a meeting in over a month. Truthfully it is very difficult to schedule time for a meeting when I am at the office from 9-5 or 6, and I do a lot of different activities at night. But, I guess if it had been a priority I would have done it. My sponsor was out of town, and I could have called someone else. I SHOULD have called someone else, especially since I found myself overeating nearly every single day.

I can blame a new work schedule, a new lifestyle, a new everything, but I really haven't given my recovery and abstinence the attention they deserve.

Why is this so hard? Why can't I just have a goddamn piece of cake or something?!

I think what I need to do is just take a deep breath, focus and let myself just feel what is right for my body.

Revisiting the beginning

Hello again! Today was a fairly good food day for me. Honestly, lately I feel like my meal sizes have been really sporadic. I get famished in the morning, no matter how big my breakfast is. Then again in the afternoon, but I'm afraid to eat more at lunch for fear I'll overeat. It's been tough to acknowledge that maybe I really should just eat a little more. This disease is a fascinating beast. Just when you think you have it figured out it really takes you for a ride.

For today, I'm posting the first questions I ever did for OA.

1. a. Why do you need to stop overeating in your life right now?

I am way too busy, too stressed to be so neurotic about overeating. All I ever do is worry, whether it’s about school, or work, or the clubs I’m in. I don’t need to be stressed about something else and right now overeating is just another stressor. I would love to get some peace of mind on at least one thing, and I am way too smart to let this addiction consume me.

b. Why did you come to OA?

Because I have tried everything else, and it was time to realize that stopping overeating was not something I could do simply by trying, even though I have tried really really really hard. I figured it was worth a shot.

c. What are you seeking?

Peace of mind and weight loss. I want to be thin, but I also want to be at peace with who I am. I’m sick of hating myself, I want to be happy with my body and who I am.

d. Is slimness the most important thing?

Yes and No. I know that health is more important than appearance, but I know that you will be more healthy when you’re thin. I also know that what is most important is how I feel about myself, but I think I would feel better about myself if I were thin. I think I would be happier if I were thin because I wouldn’t be so self-conscious, I would be more adventurous, I would be more confident around others.

***

I haven't read these in a very long time (like...since I wrote them nearly a year ago!) and my answers are very similar. I have since graduated from college, but the same stressors apply with my new job and moving to a new area, etc.

That last question really gets me, though! Is slimness the most important thing? I'm still not sure if I truly do believe that the answer is "no." Compulsive Laura says, "Of COURSE it's the most important thing! If you're thin, everything else will fall into place! Everyone will love you, and you won't ever have to worry about anything again."

Older, wiser, OA Laura says, "While you may feel that way, you know deep down it's not true. Thin Laura would be as much of a worrier and neurotic as Chubby Laura is. What matters is stopping the obsession and being at peace with who you are."

*sigh* Compulsive Laura's answers are so much simpler.

So, readers: Did you do the step one and two questions? Did they help you? Did you realize anything new??

My name is Laura.

My name is Laura. I'm a compulsive overeater.

I remember the first time I said those words in my first meeting nearly a year ago. It was scary...no. Deathly frightening. I had avoided saying those words for two years, even though I knew they were true. Even though I've been in program for 10 months, I decided to start a blog now to help me stay on track and regain some of the enthusiasm I initially had when I first started in OA. The format I'm choosing for now (and hopefully it won't get too confusing!) is to post all my OA step-work from the beginning, intermixed with present progress (or lack thereof depending on the day).

I hope you enjoy this blog and maybe even get something out of it. Please leave comments or send me an email at doubthoperecovery@gmail.com. If you have your own twelve-step blog, I would love to see it!

For now, I will post the journal entry I wrote to myself a few weeks before I finally got to my first meeting:

20 September, 2008

For the first time in months I went on the OA website. I do this every so often, write down the times of meetings, debate going, leave the post it with the times on my desk to remind myself that I should go, that it would do me some good, that I'd be no worse off than I am now if I made myself go even once. I don't know why I can't bring myself to go. I guess I do know why. I'm so afraid of crying in front of everyone and showing them how weak I am. It would be so embarrassing, even if they all had gone through it too.

I don't like to show people if I'm vulnerable. I'm supposed to be strong and smart and the person who is the rock for others. But I think it's time for me to admit that I can't do that anymore, I need a rock, too. I'm still scared. It makes me so angry that most people don't have this problem, they can just shed the pounds through sheer willpower. They don't have an addiction. I feel like it would be better to be able to take all my willpower I have with my work and put it towards diligence in weightloss. I just can't seem to do it. I take too much pride in my work and intelligence than to let that go. And then there's Mike. Sometimes I hate him so much for making me feel the way I do. Between loving him and then getting so upset with some of the things he says to me. No wonder I'm a mess. But I can't blame him. Isn't that one of the twelve steps? To stop blaming others and take responsibility? At least now I don't worry about him cheating on me. I just worry about him wanting to, or wondering if he'd be better off without me. God I'm so fucking insecure it's ridiculous. I haven't had a functional relationship in two years. I feel completely incapable of being loved. I feel like my friends don't even like me. Hell, I don't even like me. I don't really like a single thing about me. I used to like my eyes because they were big and they sparkled. But now when I look in the mirror I just get so disgusted with everything I see, even my eyes seem dull and lifeless. My hair is flat. My face is so round my eyes don't pop the way they used to. I look bad in everything.

I can't believe Mike decided to go out with me at all. He must really like my personality, which doesn't even seem that great to me. Sometimes I can fake it. I can be peppy and happy. Sometimes I'm not faking it. But I don't remember half of the things I do or say. People will remind me or I'll read stuff in im transcripts and I have absolutely no recollection of most of it. It's like I'm existing only in a dream. Where the hell am I? More important, where the hell am I going? The only thing I really want to do is travel. I'm getting restless. I want to get out of State College and hop on a train and go to Alaska and see the Northern Lights to remind myself that there is something out there—a higher power? Or maybe that even without a higher power the world contains such beauty that it's worth it to stick around, anyway.