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LEADER'S SHARE ~ STEP ONE
Hi, my name is Thumper and I'm a compulsive overeater. My oldest
memory is of food. What I remember is sitting in front of a plate of
creamed corn and crying because I wanted something else. Although the
memories of a 3 year old can be hazy in retrospect, my sense of it was that
I was at that plate for a long time. My parents had the unfortunate and
abusive notion that it was important for us to eat everything on our plate,
now matter how disagreeable we thought the food was. As I grew older I can
remember 6 and 7 hour marathons at the dinner table - we were often kept at
the table in my parent's vain attempt to force us to eat really gross
tasting stuff that I couldn't physically eat without vomiting and these
sessions only ended each day when they became tired and decided that getting
their sleep was more important than forcing us to eat the food. To this
day, I still have the compulsive need to eat everything that is on my plate
which is one of the reasons weighing and measuring my food BEFORE it gets on
the plate is so essential for me.
I loved sweets and high fat foods. I remember fighting with my
siblings over the largest cookie and crying if the cookie broke as we fought
over it. As a kid I stole candy bars and cheese from the grocery stores. I
stole ice cream from the freezer and ate from the bottom of it in hopes that
I wouldn't get discovered and if I failed to restrain myself before eating
the entire box, I would hide the remains under my bed until the mold on it
became scarier than the fear of getting caught! I lived in fear of not
getting enough to eat. My folks were fond of embarrassing me with the story
of the time our car ran into the ditch and I started crying uncontrollably
because I was frightened that we wouldn't be home in time for breakfast.
Because I was a bit overweight, I never fit into any of the "in" crowds
in school. Actually, I didn't fit into any crowds at all. I was teased and
made fun of because of my weight and appearance. I was picked on by the
bullies. I hated school and I hated the people in it, both the kids who
made me miserable and the teachers who wouldn't or couldn't protect me. I
hate to say it, but I can relate to these kids who have taken weapons into
the school and killed their classmates. I spent many hours fantasizing
about such revenges. I hated my life so much that there was a question I
used to amuse myself with. The question was if I had the ability to push a
button and destroy the entire world, myself included, would I go ahead and
push it? Most days, the answer was "yes."
I learned how to be tougher and I learned how to suppress my emotions.
Alcohol and drugs became my primary weapon against the experiencing of
feelings. Life was lived in a vacuum that consisted of eating, sleeping,
and getting high. I barely got by. Eventually my life became so miserable
as a result of the alcohol and drugs that I had to get sober. When I did,
compulsive overeating took over my life.
Within one year of getting sober, I had gained over 100 lbs! Eating
became my life. I ate huge quantities of food and I ate often! I'd eat and
eat and eat until I my stomach hurt so bad I'd think I was going to die but
the insane notion would still remain that maybe if I just ate one more thing
the pain would go away. I stole food from work or took things out of the
lunch bags of fellow co-workers. In the 4 years I worked as an alcohol/drug
counselor, I embezzled about $3,000 to finance my trips to the all you can
eat buffets. Although I was eating like a crazy person and all my waking
moments were spent in some way thinking about or dealing with food, and
despite my working in the field of addictions, I STILL didn't realize I had
a disease!
As I grew to around 300 lbs, my physical and mental health were both
deteriorating. My back hurt all the time and I had difficulty walking
because of the pain in my ankles. I started my career of dieting alternated
with periods of compulsive exercising. I'd go months eating nothing but
lettuce and popcorn. I'd lose weight, but then gain it right back. I tried
high carb, low fat - high fat, low carb, no protein, all protein, liquid
only, and just about every other kind of diet I could find out about. (I
know that I sure ate a lot of grapefruit at one point in my life!) I
would go crazy with exercising. I dropped out of college so that I could
begin another phase - playing racquetball for 8 hours a day! That time I
lost 100 lbs in 3 months and was fortunate that it didn't kill me and that
all I lost was my education. When I quit playing the racquetball, I went
back to the eating with a vengeance!
My bottom happened over a period of days. It's a very foggy memory but
I remember being severely depressed and wanting to die. I hadn't gone to
work in weeks. I didn't get out of bed other than to go to the bathroom. I
had boxes of food next to the bed and I just kept eating. All through the
apartment was trash and moldy and rotten food remains. I hadn't changed the
litter box for my cats in a very long time and I had to walk carefully to
get to the bathroom without stepping on any of it. The trash was completely
covering the floor, there wasn't one uncovered place. The stench was awful.
My clothes were dirty and I had nothing to change into because the acrid
smell of cat pee and rotting food permeated my unused clothing. I don't
know how many days I laid there in bed. I remember people coming into my
apartment because I hadn't locked my front door and shaking me by the
shoulder to ask me if I was ok. I don't know what I usually told them, but
they'd go away. I wanted to go downstairs and lock my door but I couldn't
seem to get the energy to do it.
I don't remember who it was or how they did it, but somebody came and
took me to an AA meeting and on the wall of that meeting hall was mention of
an OA meeting scheduled for later in the week. It may seem insane, but it
wasn't until that moment that I truly realized that I was suffering from a
disease and that I needed help! Eating was my life. And that my life was
unmanageable, there wasn't much doubt. My job was in jeopardy, I had
isolated myself from my friends, my spouse had left me, I was in danger of
going to jail for embezzlement, and I saw no reason to think my life would
get any better. I knew that unless something changed, I would choose to end
my life. I finally came to understand that which is known as "pitiful and
incomprehensible demoralization."
Thanks for listening to me tell the story of how I got to my bottom and
learned I was powerless over food and that my life had become unmanageable.
Since I've told you mine, how about you telling me yours?
Love,
Thumper
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