It is impossible for me to pinpoint where my unhealthy relationship with food began. I truthfully am not sure I ever had a healthy one. From as young as 7 years old I recall being obsessed with food, being conscious of my body and trying to restrict my food in order to lose weight. I knew, even at such a young age, that my relationship to food was not normal.
Food and eating dominated my whole life but I never understood why or how. I am a capable, intelligent woman, but when it came to food and dieting I had no control. I put this down to a lack of willpower, an awful sweet tooth and, on the darker days, a total failing of my character.
I would hear friends talk about how they overate at times and wanted to lose weight. But still I couldn’t help but think they surely can’t feel the same way I do about it. Surely, the food in their cupboards does not call out to them. Surely, they don’t eat multiple dinners, family size packs of food or order food from multiple restaurants and live in fear of the embarrassment the staff would notice. Surely they don’t continue to shovel food into them when they’re so full they can’t breathe. Surely, after they have something sweet or “unhealthy” they don’t feel an intense self loathing. I couldn’t imagine anyone else felt like this.
This led to intense feelings of shame around food. I would constantly try to diet, to “be good” around the food. This renewed effort could last days or weeks, but it was always followed by the idea that eventually I could eat in moderation. “One slice of cake won’t hurt ” and I was off. Then the binging began. I ate to feel comfort. Once I put the food in my mouth I felt a sense of relief. But it never lasted long. Increasingly, the period of relief was getting shorter and shorter and I needed more and more food to feel at ease.
I was so isolated at this time. Eating that quantity of food and the shame that came around it meant that all I wanted to do was be alone with the food because I had no control at all. It was also more than just the quantity of food I was eating. Food was an obsession. My mind was dominated by thoughts of when I could next eat, what food was around, what other people were eating. It was so so lonely and I had no idea how to stop. I still thought I just had to find the right diet.
What I really hadn’t realized was how my eating was affecting my behaviour. I was horrible to be around. I was irritable, snappy and at times cruel to the people around me, the people I loved. I would make a nasty comment and have no clue why. If something went wrong with my food, if there wasn’t enough nearby I could be vicious.
Increasingly, daily life became more and more unmanageable and I needed more food to cope. It was a vicious cycle. Panic attacks became a regular occurrence, my weight was increasing and I felt entirely powerless over any of it.
By the time I turned 20, I had heard of Overeaters Anonymous through my father who was a member at the time. One evening in the height of summer I had just had a panic attack for no obvious reason. I thought all was well again, but my parents sat me down and insisted I get some form of help around the food. I was initially angry that they were bringing it up, but then my Dad said something that I will never forget;
“No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I want to and no matter how capable I am in all other parts of my life, I will never be able to control my food.”
This truly sent shivers to my spine. I had never heard anyone talk like that before. It was still another few months before I felt ready to go get help. In between Christmas and New Year 2017 my Dad took me to my first OA meeting. It was an out of body experience.
There was a room of about 8 people who were all talking about food the way I experienced it. I had nothing at all in common with these people. I was the youngest there by a mile and thought that it might be too soon for me to be here, that maybe I wasn’t really as bad as them.
But they spoke of the obsession, the inability to stop, the loneliness, isolation, shame-my whole experience was being mirrored back to me. And these people were well. They had a solution. I could finally take my food seriously as an illness. I had an eating disorder and an addiction to food. I felt a weight lifting off my chest. For the first time in my life I felt understood. It truly blew my mind that there were other people in the world who are like I ate, obsessed like I did, and who had tried and failed to get well on their own.
The OA solution is a spiritual one, which requires total surrender. There can be a lot of misconceptions around this. I certainly could concede I needed a lot of help with the food, but couldn’t quite get my head around the total surrender – that my whole life was unmanageable because of my food addiction.
During the COVID lockdown though, I hit a rock bottom. I had brief spells of abstinence from eating compulsively and I thought I could manage, but this disease of compulsive overeating is sneaky and slowly I was eating more and more and the obsession crept back in. I hit a breaking point and had to fully give this programme all I had. I truly believed the food would kill me otherwise, either physically or mentally.
I met my sponsor at my home group meeting and she had such freedom from the food. I asked her to sponsor me and threw myself into working the steps. I quickly began to feel the effects of working the 12 step programme. The weight fell off naturally, but it very quickly became about so much more than my physical appearance. I was calmer, able to cope better, and nicer to be around. I was, for the first time in my life, at peace with myself. It was like someone turned off a white nose that had been blaring in the background of my life and I hadn’t noticed. I suddenly had new energy.
The programme is simple, but not easy. However on tough days there is an army of support and understanding from other members. I have shared things with people I never thought I could say out loud, without knowing anything about them. The shared bond of having experienced compulsive overeating means that they understand in ways my family and friends can’t, even though they may want to.
I’d be lying if I said everything in my life became perfect. Life is still life and it throws up its fair share of challenges. But the difference is that I am able to cope with them in a healthy and loving way. A way that isn’t destructive to me or to those around me. I have coped with things beyond my comprehension and found a strength I didn’t know I had. I still don’t fully understand how it all works, but it does. It has never failed me and so I don’t question it. I trust that OA, the people I meet through it and the guidance in the steps of the OA programme, keep me well.
I often say that OA has allowed me to be the person I want to be. The daughter, the sister, the friend, the girlfriend. The person I wanted to be was in there but I couldn’t access that part of myself because my eating had drowned her out.
There is a story from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous (which is often read and referenced in OA) in which the writer says of his first meeting “maybe I could find my way out of this agonizing existence. Perhaps I could find freedom and peace, and be able once again to call my soul my own”. (Alcoholics Anonymous, 4 th Edition, Page 273) I read that in the first meeting I attended after admitting I was at rock bottom and I don’t believe that was an accident.
And today, I am eternally grateful that, for one day at a time, I can call my soul my own, that I am neutral around food and that I am healthy, physically, mentally and spiritually and I truly owe it all to OA. OA has allowed me to call my soul my own and reclaim it from the pain of compulsive overeating.
If any of my story resonates with you then I greatly encourage you to reach out, come to a meeting and learn more. It is so worth it. Everyone is deserving of recovery.
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