​My journey to a lasting abstinence was a long one. At times it felt desperate and fleeting. Yet I perservered. With the help of a Step Sponsor, a power greater than myself, and the Fellowship, last month I celebrated 27 years of abstinence from bulimia, a disease that to this day wants to destroy me. 

I spent 19 1/2 years of my life actively participating in my disease. Bingeing, purging, starving, over exercising, pills, laxatives, powders, eating only one food, and so many other compulsive behaviors were all part of the insanity of my disease--a disease which had me convinced that the ONLY way to keep the demons away and stay in control was to listen to it. There was no room for anything else or anyone else. 

When I first attended meetings regularly, I was desperate to stop. And on the days I attended a meeting I did stop. The hope and welcome I felt in the rooms kept me going for 24 hours. On the days I missed a meeting, the bulimia was back with a vengeance. Where had been my resolve? I worked up to six meetings a week. And still--no meeting, no lasting abstinence. I was not free. 

Then I finally hit the bottom I needed to work the Steps. After TWO years of attending meetings and white-knuckling it from one meeting to the next, I got a sponsor and started working the program, the 12 Steps. I wanted what she had and was willing to go to any lengths to recover. I followed directions and did the work. Some of it was heartbreaking, some of it was eye-opening, and some of it was pure joy. Most of all, it was life saving, life affirming and a reason to rejoice, for I had truly found a new way of living and a life I had never dared to imagine for myself. A life free from the grips of a disease that continues to try to regain control and one that I have no doubt will destroy me if I do not work my program on a daily basis. 

Program has taught me that I am not cured. What I have is a daily reprieve based on my spiritual condition. This spiritually fit condition did not come easily to me. I struggled with putting trust in my Higher Power. The six months prior to finding lasting abstinence were in program while I was working the steps. As I worked through them the first time and continued steps 1-3 and 10-12 on a daily basis, my trust in HP grew until I was finally able to turn to HP instead of the bulimia for direction in every single aspect of my life. I didn't force it or make a vow. I took the next inspired action, turned to HP in moments of panic or indecision, one day at a time. Truthfully, at times it was one moment at a time. 

Life has not been all sunshine and roses. And that is okay because the worst day in recovery is glorious compared to my best day when my disease ruled my life. 

Now, almost thirty years later, I put one foot in front of the other, trusting God, cleaning house, and serving others. And I find myself truly free. 

Alice W.
​Region One

When I was a child, the adults in my life let me down so many times that I stopped trusting them. All of them. I always believed in God, in a power that guides us and wants what's best for us, but each time another imperfect human betrayed me or hurt me, I was sure it was because I must have done something to cause God to turn his back on me. It seemed that no matter what I did, I could not win God's favor.
 
By the time I found program, I was suicidal. I had spent so many years using my eating disorder to keep my feelings at bay, while working endlessly to prove my worth and earn my place in the world. I was exhausted. I could not keep doing what I was doing, but I did not know any other way to live; I was out of ideas. The darkness began to envelop me. I could see only one way to stop the pain. Then something miraculous happened—a small voice inside told me not to give up, and I somehow found the courage to reach out for help.
 
I was in the hospital for only ten days, but those ten days saved my life. It was there that I learned about the Twelve Steps and about Overeaters Anonymous. I attended my first meeting. Something began to shift. A door that had been slammed shut began to open. I began to see that my Higher Power had been with me through everything, putting people in my life when I needed them. I had been too hurt and too afraid to accept the help that was offered.
 
I wish I could tell you that I got a sponsor right away and worked the steps. That is not my story. After I left the hospital, a year and a half passed before I found myself in my second OA meeting, and then it took me two years to ask someone to be my sponsor. She had what I wanted and I was ready to go to any lengths to get what she had. She was calm and serene. Even when life was throwing lemons at her, she trusted her Higher Power completely. When things didn't go "her way," she didn't run from her feelings. She felt them, felt compassion for herself. She got quiet, asked for guidance, and did the footwork. She looked for her part, and trusted her Higher Power to walk with her as she took the next correct action. I wanted what she had and I was willing to risk trusting someone other than myself. As we worked through the steps, my trust in her grew, as did my trust in my Higher Power.
 
OA gave me so many opportunities to trust my fellows and to let go of expectations. I practiced in these rooms, and then in all of my affairs.  Before OA, I saw people with a fearful heart; now I see people with a kind and loving heart.
 
I found a solution in the Twelve Steps and I surrendered to my Higher Power with complete abandon. I did the work and learned to trust the world again. My heart is open and I know with my entire being that my life does not need to be justified. Or earned. It is a true miracle and I am grateful every day.
 
I celebrated 25 years of freedom from bulimia this year. The road has been long and winding, yet I do not regret what I had to face, or the process, with the loving guidance of my Higher Power, because today I feel more joy and more happy days than I ever dreamed possible. All because I chose to take a chance and dare to trust again.

​If you are afraid, OA is here for you. We can help you learn to trust again. All you have to do is find the courage to ask.
 
Alice W. – Region One

Tradition Three says that the only requirement for membership in Overeaters Anonymous (OA) is the desire to stop eating compulsively. Tradition Four states that each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups or OA as a whole. 

Have you noticed a recent trend toward special focus groups (groups which are specifically for members who share one trait)?  I believe that this is a wonderful thing, a finding of identity. Identity is the spiritual principle of Tradition Three.  Some of us, especially those who have been around OA for a long time, want everything to stay the same as it has always been.  But slowly, over time, we have allowed many things which we didn’t want to let into OA when the subject was first raised. I would much rather be an “elder statesman” than a “bleeding deacon” (or a “stick in the mud”).  I have been around OA for over forty years now, therefore I have a wealth of experience from which to draw perspective.  On the other hand, when I first came into OA, we did not worry about lots of things, and I like the “let them whirl” attitude of not correcting what others are doing.  I try to stay with correcting my own behaviors and attitudes rather than watching for what others are doing wrong.  It is not my job to be the OA Traditions police. 

Each OA group has the right to do things wrong.  One of my pet peeves is the practice of only reading one Tradition per week at meetings. However, that is NOT against Traditions and so I may grumble, but it is not my job as a Trustee to push my will on others. 

Tradition Four allows each meeting to have its own ways of doing things, unless it affects other groups or OA as a whole.   Both the OA and the AA “12x12” books (The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous and The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous) have interesting anecdotes about experiences with these Traditions. 

One of the stories I enjoy in Tradition Three is about how early in AA, they were very afraid of losing their meetings and their sobriety.  They wanted to keep certain people out and only allow “pure and respectable alcoholics” in.  So, the General Service Office asked that each group to send in its list of “protective” regulations.  The total list of those to be excluded was huge: beggars, tramps, asylum inmates, prisoners, queers, plain crackpots, fallen women, atheists, and more. Those early AA members suddenly realized that if all those rules had been in effect everywhere, no one could possibly have joined AA!  They came to their senses and made the only requirement for membership the desire to stop drinking.

When I came into OA, I think there were some members who would have been very happy if I had gone away--I didn’t believe in the God that those sweet little ladies believed in, plus I had taken drugs and had sex.  But I did have the desire to stop eating compulsively.

These days, people seem to be asking for more special focus groups. Based on some of the experience above, I say let them do it.  It may be that some of those members can start their recovery journey in a special focus group and stay in OA to support all other compulsive eaters toward recovery.  I stayed, even though some people rolled their eyes when I shared, but they didn’t kick me out and I kept coming back until I too found recovery.

So, love and accept them all, even if they challenge your beliefs.  Accept their right to work OA their own way. 
​
Margie G. – Region One

Our Eleventh Step talks about prayer and meditation. Meditation continues to be a struggle for me. In many practices, one of the first instructions is to close your eyes. Because of my childhood trauma, the idea of closing my eyes doesn’t feel safe for me right now. I feel too exposed. Too vulnerable. I used to use this truth as a weapon against myself. “You think you’re recovered? You can’t even sit with your eyes closed. What kind of an example is that?!” the vicious voice of my disease chimes in at every opportunity.
 
It’s important to note that through working the Twelve Steps with a sponsor, and some outside help, I have experienced recovery beyond my wildest dreams. For the most part, I do not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. I believe in my heart that my experiences can benefit others. I know a new freedom and happiness. I feel useful and I am confident in my abilities. I have talents to share.   So where is my freedom from fear of other people?
 
Program has taught me to accept myself unconditionally. I love and accept my body – a miracle for someone who has tried to starve herself to maintain someone else’s unattainable ideal. I love who I am as a person, another miracle for someone who did not believe she was worth the space she took up in the world. And, I have a self-preservation skill that, so far, I am unable to, and may never be able to, let go of. I have a strong connection to my Higher Power. I know with all of my being that HP is with me 24/7, showing me grace and direction. And still, my instinct, when I try to close my eyes to meditate, is to recoil as if from a hot flame. The miracle here is that I am not a lesser person because of it. I accept it, refuse to let the voice of my disease define me, and remain open to other ways to quiet my mind so I can hear HP’s will for me. Because that is what meditation is all about – strengthening our connection with a power greater than ourselves. How we get there doesn’t matter.
 
So, how do I meditate? I go for a walk. Because of my past, it took a lot of work to be able to walk by myself. I stay vigilant, and present, paying attention to everything that is happening around me. As I do, something amazing happens: my mind begins to clear and I hear and feel an amazing inner silence. An overwhelming sense of peace. I feel safe. And in that safety, a thought materializes that leads me to my next action. A plan forms and I can visualize the path ahead. Random thoughts start to connect and form a coherent picture in my head. As I embrace whatever was just revealed to me, I feel a deep sense of joy.
 
Does this happen every time I walk? Not hardly. As anyone with a meditation practice will tell you, reaching the stillness is not always possible every time you sit. But when it does happen, it is profound and I feel an unbreakable bond with my Higher Power.
 
When I am not able to walk and I am feeling restless, irritable and discontent, I have learned to doodle. I sit at my desk or dining room table with a blank piece of paper. In the middle of the paper I write a word. One that calls to me in the moment. Examples include Peace, Beauty, Loneliness or Heartbreak. I draw a circle or box around the word, and I start to create patterns. The patterns flow easily out of me and onto the paper as I concentrate on the word in the center. The goal again is to quiet the stories I am telling myself and find a calmness to replace the restlessness. I open my heart to HP’s message for me. If I can’t seem to find the flow, I surrender to the process and release each self-judgment as it appears. Like any new skill, it took some practice to let go of my expectations and be present during the doodle meditation.
 
The point is that however we choose to quiet our minds and open our heart to a power greater than ourselves, the only way we can do it wrong is to not do it at all.
 
Alice W. – Region One

I don't know about you, but I am experiencing some serious Covid fatigue. No movie premieres to attend, no soccer games to play or teams to coach, no dancing at the Crystal Ballroom. Life as I knew it has come to a screeching halt. But at least I could go outside and garden, take a walk, or go ride my bike. Then the wildfires hit. Now the air is hazardous to breathe. Friends are evacuated. Some will return to nothing. Others will not return at all. It just keeps piling on. And on top of all of this, the "regular" events of life continue. Conflicts with parents, spouses and children, cancer diagnosis, pets get sick and die. Make the mistake of watching the news, and it all just feels like too much!
 
So what's the good news you ask? The good news is that we have a solution! Even though life on life's terms seems like it has never EVER been harder for ANYONE EVER, program teaches me that life in recovery is an amazing adventure if I choose to see it that way.
 
All of the commotion that I thought made up a good life has fallen away and what is left are the people. Meaningful connection to my fellows is what all humans need to thrive and find joy. Program has given me a community of people who love me just for showing up. What an amazing gift!
 
Covid has made virtual meetings a way of life for many of us. I have met fellows from the UK, New York, Colorado, Australia, and Ireland that are an important part of my program. I have connected with so many anorexics and bulimics across the country that I finally feel like one of many in my recovery journey.
 
I continue to grow my spiritual program by taking the time to be still and let God heal my anxiety, fear, and grief. I am in complete surrender (most days) and let God guide my daily actions. I have found peace in the quiet spaces in between the chaos that my disease creates in my mind. Joy sprouts from this inner peace in surprisingly simple ways: the pleasure in a cup of tea sipped slowly as I watch a squirrel in my back yard, wondering how his day is going. Something I never would have taken time for pre-Covid. I was always too busy.
 
My hope for you is that you can savor the blessings of this time. Stay present in the day and look for the moments of joy that every day has to offer. They are there for us to behold, if we take the time to look for them.
 
 Alice - Region One

At a recent workshop, I was reminded that the world is full of different body shapes and sizes, and that in our fellowship, abstinence is as varied as the ways we each act out our compulsive food behaviors. What keeps me sane can be the downfall of another. The fact that we can each define our own abstinence is one of the miracles of the program. Since we all act out our addiction in different ways, what works to free us from our compulsion will also look a little different for each of us.
 
Many of us would agree that what one person defines as "sober" eating can send another into relapse. So why do we not share the same sentiment when it comes to body size? Why do we judge those as "not abstinent" when their size does not match our personal vision of physical recovery?
 
As an anorexic/bulimic and over exerciser, I was brutal to my body, trying to get it to stay at a size that I had decided was "right-sized." In recovery, I found that I had a very hard time letting go of what physical recovery looked like for me. What program has taught me, through working the Twelve Steps, is that this is a program of action. I do the footwork and leave the results to my Higher Power. And that includes my physical recovery. My abstinence is sober eating, which to me means putting food in its proper place. I feed my body the nutrition it needs to be healthy so I can do HP's will for me as I walk through my day. Sober eating also means that I do not use food or compulsive food behaviors to avoid my emotions or escape from life. I live life on life's terms. And I leave the results to HP. I trust my Higher Power to take care of the size of my body - the one that I was born with. Not the one I tortured myself to try to obtain. Freedom from the obsession includes letting go of my vision of what a right-sized, abstinent body looks like. The size of my clothes or the number on the scale does not matter. If I am eating a sober meal plan, then I am abstinent.
 
When I came into program, one of my core beliefs was that the size of my body determined my value to the world. What program has taught me through my step work is that the size of my body does not reflect my worth to this world, and neither does it define the depth of my recovery. My value to the world is based on HP's will for me: to be of service to others. Program promises me freedom from food obsession, and a life of usefulness. It does not promise to make me a certain size or shape.
 
Love and tolerance is our code. (I prefer love and acceptance, myself.) Love and acceptance includes our own bodies, as well as those of our fellows, regardless of shape or size.
 
Alice W. – Region 1 

As I think about Unity Day coming up on February 29, I wonder about this celebration and I ask myself: how will acknowledging this day make any difference in my recovery?  So I started reading, and then reflecting on what it means to be united in this fellowship:
 
“No matter what problem I have with food, I am welcome.”
I am united in the solution to our common problem.  I begin to recover because I can identify with your weaknesses and actions around food.
 
“It is our weaknesses, not strengths that bind us.”
We are a group of people who would not normally mix, and yet…It doesn’t matter what your faith looks like.  It doesn't matter what your gender, or sexual preference is.  My sponsor is a different faith than I am, and yet when I have a struggle and need help she encourages and reminds me to pray.  How amazing is that?  We are of different beliefs but she encourages me to pray to my Higher Power.
 
“We are all together now reaching out for power and strength...”
We reach out to each other because, in spite of our differences, we have so much more in common that connects us.  Your strong recovery helps to strengthen mine. 
 
Last year I took part in a United Day celebration from a different OA fellowship than mine.  During the hour, a lovely gal gave each one of us a white rose. As she handed them out one by one, she mentioned how grateful she was for each person as she did.  I felt so welcomed and loved and united to this group even though all she said to me was “Thank you for coming here today to be with us.”  That small act made me feel like such a grateful part of this fellowship and definitely united in their love.

It is definitely beyond my wildest dreams!
 
So grateful to be united with you,

Nadine D.
OA Region1 Member at Large