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OVEREATERS ANONYMOUS: CRISIS CENTER VOLUNTEER
The miracle in my life began just five years ago when I overheard someone mention Overeaters Anonymous. I laughed nervously and said, “What is that?” My friend told me and as I stood in front of her, some 60 pounds overweight, I said, “I think I need that. Where is it?”
Three days later I attended my first meeting, and a month after that I left OA in confusion. I was an unhappy, guilt-ridden, indecisive, bossy, much-fragmented person who thought I had it all together because I managed to fool so many other people into believing it.
I was a volunteer at the Crisis Center, talking to people who were suicidal. One day a woman who weighed 300 pounds called, and guess who took that call? Do you think the Higher Power had anything to do with that? Here I was, talking to suicidal people, a 200-pounder trying to help a 300-pounder.
That day I quit the Crisis Center and began to take my own crisis seriously enough to do something about it. I reached out to OA once again. This time I was desperate enough to stay, ask questions and really listen. I found that these people shared my pain, anxiety, loneliness, despair and unquenchable appetite for what I thought was food. I stayed to learn that my hunger was spiritual and that what I was searching for could not be found in food. These OA members were not strangers, even though I did not know them nor was I to know any of their last names for a long time.
Weight LossI am glad I said it aloud because my words shocked me. I remembered my mother often saying to us children, when we ate too much, “Do you live to eat or do you eat to live?” I realized that I still thought it preferable to live to eat. Then and there, I understood that food was my false idol. I put it before everything.
I went to the kitchen window and gazed outside at the trees and flowers and the sun shining brightly. I prayed to God not to let food be my life, my false idol any longer. My prayer was answered that day. The pounds began to melt off. That spring, my husband of twenty-five years and I went away together to learn more about ourselves and how to talk with one another and love each other better. In the fall, I signed up to take a class at the local community college, something which I had wanted to do for years. Funny isn’t it, that I could be a volunteer for a Crisis Center and too fearful to go back to school. The day before my first class was to begin, we received word that our oldest son, Bill, had been killed in a car accident. I missed my first class, but went to the second one a week later. Something in me knew that if I didn’t go to school that day I never would. After our son died, people brought in food Ђ” mounds of it, and most of it fattening. I knew I couldn’t turn to food now or I would never find my way out of despair. I asked a close OA friend to choose the food for me to eat at this time. It was the only way I could make it. I continued school, taking carefully chosen classes. A paper I wrote for my English class not only got an A+ but it won a contest. It was a story about my mother-in-law and writing it helped me in making amends. It made her very proud and happy, and I won first prize Ђ” a hundred dollars. I even had my picture in the paper, and it was a thin picture! The summer after I lost my excess weight I went camping, backpacking and hiking up into the Sierras with my family and some friends. It was the first such adventure of my whole life. I had always stayed home when my family went backpacking. Being so overweight, I couldn’t have managed another heavy pack. Even thin, it was hard. It was nine and a half miles up and down a difficult trail. But I made it. I had a headache for two hours afterward, but as I lay on the hard ground I was exultant. The top of a mountain seems to sharpen the senses. I saw the beautiful wildflowers Ђ” pinks, yellows, purples, blues. The stars were closer than I had ever seen them. I am delighted to say that I haven’t missed a camping trip since that first year. I don’t even get a headache anymore.
*6/245/2*
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