A Year to Remember

by Shelly Bell

  Then, we couldn’t stop.

  After the reading, people shared their thoughts and feelings and talked about what it was like for them. One young man spoke about stopping at the gas station every morning before work and every night after work to pick up junk food to binge. A woman in her seventies claimed a twenty year abstinence from compulsive overeating, maintaining a seventy pound weight release.

  I didn’t quite comprehend everything they were saying, but I got the gist of it. These people were like me.

  For the first time, I could be honest about my secret habits without anyone judging me or holding me in contempt. They understood what it was like to be a compulsive overeater.

  I was a compulsive overeater.

  The meeting ended with another prayer and then people asked me if I wanted a hug. I’m not a very touchy, feely person, but I would feel badly if I refused, so I let them hug me. Then Alison came over to me and gave me a hug. I couldn’t let go. I felt the tears start, and I couldn’t stop them.

  She sat me on the couch and rubbed my back, letting me cry. Someone came over and handed me a box of tissue. I guess this wasn’t unusual.

  “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “The last time you saw me I was crying and now I’m crying again. You must think I’m weak.” I blew my nose in the tissue and tried to compose myself.

  She smiled and handed me another tissue. “I don’t think you’re weak. I’m glad you’re here. Welcome home,” she said, which started me on another crying jag.

  “What does that mean?” I asked between sniffs.

  “It means you’ve found your way to people that can understand you and support you. Kind of like a family. What did you think of the meeting?” She settled back onto the couch, indicating she wasn’t in any rush.

  “I could relate. I’m definitely a compulsive overeater. I don’t know if I can do this whole Higher Power thing.”

  I could do the First Step and admit I was addicted to food and that my life had become unmanageable. My life had fallen apart and the only thing I knew to do was binge to dull the pain. I had no clue how to deal with my life or make a decision for myself.

  I didn’t believe in a Higher Power anymore. After all, where had my belief in God’s plan gotten me this year? I believed if I worked hard enough, God would grant me my greatest desire-to find and marry my soul mate. Instead, I’m in love with someone who clearly cannot be my soul mate. If he was, he’d want to marry me.

  “A Higher Power can be God or Mother Nature or even the people in OA. You don’t have to believe in God to be in the program.”

  “How can I believe in God anymore? Look at my life, Alison. All I wanted was to find my beshert. Instead, I have less than I had before I ever made the damned toast. I’ve lost Adam and I’ve lost Missy! What God would make me suffer this way?” It surprised me how much anger poured out as I railed against the greatness of my so-called Higher Power.

  Alison took my hand in hers. “I can’t answer that for you. I can tell you this. I needed to reach rock bottom before I could admit I needed help with my food addiction. If I hadn’t, I would have continued on the same dangerous path I was on and I’d be dead right now. God works in mysterious ways, Sara. Who am I to question what He has planned for me? All I know is, if it weren’t for my Higher Power, you and I would never have met and I’d be lying six feet under.”

  “What was your rock bottom, if you don’t mind me asking?” I couldn’t imagine Alison any different than the sane, rational woman sitting next to me.

  “A couple of years ago, I weighed eighty pounds. Before that, I weighed three hundred. I tried dieting over and over and when it failed, I blamed myself for not having willpower. I stopped eating altogether for a while and when I couldn’t do it anymore, I’d binge. Then I’d throw it up. One day I couldn’t stop throwing up. My mom found me passed out in the bathroom covered in bloody vomit. I spent a few months in the hospital recovering and that’s when I learned about OA. I’ve been attending ever since. I’m not going to say it’s easy because it’s not. It’s a lot of work. For the first time in my life, I’m not obsessed with food. It doesn’t rule me anymore,” she declared, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

  She got off of the couch and went to a box across the room. When she came back, she gave me a packet of pamphlets and reading material.

  “I want you to read these over. I can be your temporary sponsor until you get a new one. I’d like you to go to ninety meetings in ninety days. Do you think you could do that?”

  I just nodded even though it sounded very overwhelming. I wanted help, didn’t I? Well now I was getting it.

  “I’m also giving you the name of a nutritionist to help you come up with a safe, healthy food plan. We don’t advocate any diets or have any expectations other than abstinence.” She handed me a card with the name of a nutritionist, and I noted her office was close to my condo.

  “What is abstinence?” I understood an alcoholic gave up alcohol, but it’s not like I could give up food.

  “It’s different for everyone. An easy answer is no bingeing and following a food plan. You’ll get a better idea when you read the literature. I’ll lend you the Big Book and the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous to read. You start on Step One. Read it every day this week in this book. That’s it for your homework right now. Do you have any questions?”

  I had a million, but at the moment I couldn’t think of one to ask.

  “I’d like you to call me every day if you can. If you only have a minute to talk that’s okay, but I at least want you to check in with me.”

  She paused, looking uncomfortable. “Can I ask you a personal question? What happened between you and Adam?”

  Pain rushed through me as if she’d yanked off the scab that had formed over my wound. As both my friend and now my sponsor, I needed to rely on and talk with Alison as openly and honestly as possible.

  “When I called him at the airport, a woman answered his phone. I was so upset, I told him I got engaged to Caleb and he basically hung up on me.” Goodbye, Sara.

  “Isn’t it possible it was his sister or a friend? Why did you assume he was with another woman?”

  “I admit I may have jumped to conclusions initially. He never called me back to explain. If he wasn’t cheating on me, then why didn’t he call me?” I knew why, but I wanted to hear her opinion.

  “Because you told him you were engaged?”

  “He’d know by now I never got engaged. It was up to him to call me and he didn’t. No, it’s over. I accept it and I’m moving on.”

  I could tell she didn’t believe me, because she had a slight smile she tried to keep hidden from me.

  “If Adam and you hadn’t broken up, would you have come to this meeting?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. I knew I needed to make some changes in my life. He ... he told me he never wanted to get married, but he didn’t want to lose me. We made a deal. He was going to go to therapy and see if he could get past his aversion to marriage, and I was going to see if I could be with him without the promise of marriage. I didn’t know how I was going to do that. He also wanted me to work on making my own decisions. Will OA help me with that?”

  “In a way. You’ll learn how to listen to your Higher Power for your decisions.”

  I shook my head as I thought about how crazy that sounded.

  “You went to Israel and fell in love with Adam, came home and broke up with Adam, and came to your first OA meeting where you ran into me, who you met in Israel. You don’t think somehow a Higher Power had worked to bring you to this meeting on this day?” Alison asked me.

  Had God, fate, or destiny somehow manipulated me into coming to OA? I considered everything that had happened to me since February.

  Could I accept there was somehow a purpose to all of life’s twists and turns?

  No, not yet.

  I wanted to believe someone watched over me and kept me safe from harm. I needed
to believe by pursuing this course of action, I’d find my way to true happiness that didn’t rely on other people’s opinions of me.

  “I don’t know how I got here, but I’m grateful I did,” I said as I stood to leave.

  “For now, don’t worry about anything. Just take it one day at a time.”

  One day at a time.

  Easier said than done.

  I had been abstinent since my meeting one week ago. Every day got harder rather than easier. I woke thinking about food, went to bed thinking about food, and dreamed about food. I didn’t want to give up yet, but I also didn’t see any evidence of my Higher Power’s presence in my life.

  I kept hearing “as if.” If you don’t believe in a Higher Power, act as if you believe in a Higher Power. What the hell did that even mean? They also said ask for the willingness. I’ve never heard so much abstract rhetoric in my life. Now, I understood why some people claimed Twelve Step programs were a cult.

  Still, it worked for a lot of people, including Alison. I’ve known several alcoholics who regained sobriety through working a Twelve Step program. Also, Dina would learn about the Twelve Steps at the treatment facility. At least, I should comprehend the Steps and principles for her sake.

  I made a promise to Alison to attend ninety meetings in ninety days and I’d keep my promise. Seemed to me I honored a lot of promises to others. Would they honor their promises to me?

  I drank my coffee and ate my breakfast of oatmeal and egg whites. When I opened my pantry for salt and saw a box of cookies stuffed in the back, I had an overwhelming urge to eat them. I thought I had purged my kitchen of sugar and flour products. How had I missed this box of cookies?

  Maybe it was a sign from God I wasn’t meant for abstinence. He wanted me to eat these cookies. I opened the box and smelled them, imagining the sweetness of the chocolate and how good it would feel to stuff myself until I passed out.

  With shaking hands, I turned on the kitchen sink and forced myself to throw the cookies down the garbage disposal. I started crying and fell to my knees. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I wanted to heal.

  Thinking about the advice given to me from Alison and other OA members, I started to pray to God.

  “God, please help me. I don’t want to binge anymore. Save me. Please save me.” I stayed on my knees praying to God, saying it over and over until the urge to binge passed. Then I rose to my feet, got ready and left for my meeting.

  For the first time, I spoke at my meeting, unable to contain my secrets any longer.

  “Hi, I’m Sara, and I’m a compulsive overeater,” I started.

  “Hi, Sara. Welcome,” everyone said back to me.

  “I’ve been abstinent for one week. In a way, it’s been the hardest week of my life. I wanted it to be easy, but I’m discovering it’s not. I listen to other members talk about feeling free from the compulsion and they talk about their Higher Power. I want the same for myself. I don’t want to suffer from the overwhelming urges anymore. I don’t want to stuff myself full of sweets until I’m so nauseas I can’t do anything but sleep it off. So, I’m following the advice. I’m trying to live as if I believe in a Higher Power. I need a sign from Him. Just one sign. Anyway, thanks for listening to me babble and with that I pass.”

  “Thanks, Sara. Keep coming back.”

  When the meeting ended, Alison stayed to talk with me.

  “It isn’t easy, Sara. No one can say otherwise. If you continue to work the program, it will get better. One day, you’ll wake and discover you no longer have the need or urge to binge. It’s an amazing feeling and it’s worth all the work. I promise you. Until then, when you get an impulse to overindulge, call me or someone else in the program. Copy some of the names and numbers out of the book we sign each meeting. Phone calls are one of the tools we need to recover. It helps remind us we’re not alone. You’re not, Sara. You have friends and you can turn to us for help.”

  “Thanks, Alison. I will.” I gave her a hug and we started to walk to our cars.

  “Remember to keep your eyes and ears open for the signs of your Higher Power. Trust me, He’s communicating. You just have to recognize it.”

  We separated as we got into our cars. I went straight to the gym. I hadn’t been to it in ages, but exercise not only helped me lose weight, it cleared my mind and fought latent aggressions.

  I changed in a bathroom stall, bumping into the walls and banging my knees against the door. I wish I could learn to feel comfortable naked around other women, but I won’t hold my breath. I’ve hated changing in public since middle school.

  I decided to tackle the treadmill first. Ten minutes into it, I felt my thighs burning in agony. I hadn’t realized how out of shape I had gotten, especially since Israel. I vowed to buy some music for my iPod for musical motivation. Today, I plugged my headphones into the television, but I couldn’t find anything interesting to watch. I settled on the local news.

  Since I’m usually not home during the weekdays, I never gave a thought of who the target audience was for daytime television. Judging by the commercials, I’d guess retirees and stay-at-home mothers. I had never seen this many commercials for sanitary napkins, diapers, retirement homes, diets, and bariatric surgery in my life. I scanned the gym and found most of the people were elderly, with a few younger women scattered throughout. Working out with the elderly is definitely less intimidating than working out with a bunch of hard bodies.

  After thirty minutes of low intensity walking, I gave up. I turned off the treadmill and stepped onto the floor. I hadn’t anticipated feeling like I was still walking on the equipment and grew dizzy as my legs buckled under me. The next thing I knew I was sitting on the floor of the gym. I wanted to quickly get up before anyone noticed.

  “Are you okay?” a man standing behind me asked.

  Of course. Someone was always around to catch my embarrassing moments. At least this time, it wasn’t Adam. Based on the statistical data of the room, the man standing behind me should be well into his seventies.

  I turned around. No such luck. Of course he was a good-looking man in his thirties.

  “Thanks, I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy as I got off the treadmill.”

  “You’re Sara, right?”

  “Um, yeah. I’m sorry, do I know you?” These days, people all over the Metro-Detroit area knew my name, and he didn’t look familiar.

  “I’m Nate. We went to Israel together.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course. How are you?”

  “I’m good. How have you been?”

  God, I hate small talk. Especially with handsome Jewish men.

  “I’m good,” I answered, lying through my teeth.

  “How’s your husband?”

  My heart stopped. “My husband?”

  “Yeah, Adam, right?”

  I laughed at the irony. Nate must have thought I was crazy. Maybe he was right.

  “He’s not my husband.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  I shook my head. He looked at his feet.

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed ... you seemed pretty serious.”

  “Things are a bit confusing at the moment. Don’t worry, you didn’t offend me.”

  Nate seemed like a nice guy. At an earlier time in my life, I’d probably try and hit on him.

  “I understand confusing.” He smiled.

  “You do?” I asked, genuinely interested.

  “Yeah. My boyfriend and I just broke up, but we’re still sleeping together. I’d say that’s confusing, wouldn’t you?”

  Of course, I would have hit on him! He’s gay!

  “I’d have to agree. That’s quite confusing.” I liked Nate instantly. He had a quality about him which made him easy to talk with. I needed someone like him in my life.

  “Would you want to get lunch with me?”

  “I wish I could, but I’m meeting a client here in a few minutes. I’m a personal trainer.”

  “Really? Wow. You exercise for a living?” There wasn�
�t enough money in the world to make me want to exercise all day.

  “I help my clients, but I don’t workout with them. I was a fat, gay kid. When I got tired of the bullying, I started weight training. I’ve been doing it ever since.”

  “Wow, well good for you,” I said, not quite sure what else to say to him.

  “Listen, I’m going to services tonight. It’s the first time I’ve had to go alone since my ex used to go with me. Would you like to join me?”

  I wasn’t into attending services at synagogue, but I was searching for my Higher Power. Where else would a Jewish girl like me find her Higher Power?

  “Sure, I’d like that,” I responded.

  Nate and I exchanged information and agreed to meet at the synagogue. It turned out he belonged to the same congregation as me.

  I left the gym wondering if my Higher Power had finally sent me a sign.

  Dressed in a skirt and blouse, I met Nate in the lobby. I know women can wear pants now at Reform congregations, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to wear anything other than a skirt.

  We found seats toward the front of the room and talked before the service began. It also gave me the opportunity to remember how much I’d enjoyed going to services as a child. I always felt comfortable and loved in my synagogue. I felt like I belonged. I missed that feeling.

  The service began with the Rabbi strumming his guitar and the Cantor singing a song I recognized from my youth. Throughout the service, memories of happy times spent inside these walls passed through my mind as though I watched a movie. The Rabbi talked about asking God for renewal of body and spirit. I felt like the Rabbi talked directly to me.

  I’d received the sign I asked from God. God was talking to me. I just had to listen.

  I believed in my Higher Power, ready to immerse myself in the Twelve Steps.

  CHAPTER 32

  JULY 30, 2012

  DETROIT, MICHIGAN

  WEIGHT: ?

  STATUS: SINGLE