Me Changing Me

“I’ve prayed healing prayers for people who are ill, and I’ve prayed for guidance in being able to grocery shop without buying the wrong items. My weight loss results from actions I am willing to take, not from asking God to remove my fat or help me lose weight” (Voices of Recovery, p. 318).

I can’t pray for weight loss while parked outside a convenience store poised to spend grocery money on junk food, and I can’t complain about other people’s defects of character while I’m blatantly avoiding my own responsibilities.

I know this now, but it was an eyeopener for me. Change had to be me changing me. Outward focus guaranteed me larger dress and pant sizes. What I finally came to understand was that my weight was my weight. Knowing this made me feel both lighter and heavier. I felt lighter because now I have a diagnosis. I have a disease with a name, and I am a compulsive overeater. At first, I didn’t particularly like this new title, but it sure fit me. I had all the symptoms. I did all the things that other OA members shared about in meetings. But the new realization also felt heavy, because the road to recovery seemed to stretch to eternity. I needed threefold recovery: physical (a doctor called me obese); emotional (I ate for any reason); and spiritual (I felt I was a weak person). But why would a god, any god, bother with me?

The slogan “one day at a time” gave me the reprieve I needed. I didn’t have to look past this one day. Could I be abstinent by refraining from compulsive overeating for just this one day? No. Not at first. Not by myself. I needed the OA community to help me, especially in those first days. I was withdrawing from something that eased my discomfort, my sadness, my fears, and even my joys sometimes. Sugary things had been my best friends for most of my life, so it was very natural for me to find it difficult to say goodbye to them.

It was my good fortune to find myself now in the presence of others who had walked this way before me. They understood my loss, but they were experiencing the joy of recovery, and I could see their outward signs of inward grace. Of course, life was still throwing them curveballs, but their response was not the old “eat everything in sight” response. They were now using all the Steps, Tools, and slogans of the OA Program, and their grocery money was being used to purchase healthy groceries.

I am a work in progress. I am in OA with other mortals who are also works in progress. Together we are doing it. OA is a community-based program. We say, “together we can,” and together we are recovering. Yes!

— Barb W., Newfoundland, Canada