In 2002, I moved to Conway and started graduate school. I was so excited to be out on my own and
viewed it as a fresh start. I found out
about a group called Overeaters Anonymous and I went to several meetings. I
related to what the group members shared.
I knew and still know that food has a big part in my life. I knew that I ate when I was upset, happy, or
angry. I knew that where others would
stop eating and feel full I just couldn’t seem to stop. I knew that something kept from losing the
weight and keeping it off.
So pretty soon after joining OA I started a food plan of
eating three meals a day, no second helpings, and no snacks. It was hard at times. The idea of sweets
sometimes would get in my mind and wouldn’t go away, but I had the support of
others to help me through. I started
losing weight and by summer I had lost almost 100 pounds. All of my friends and
family were so proud of me. I remember going clothes shopping, and buying an
entire new wardrobe. I felt good, and I was so excited about my progress.
I remember the day I decided I wanted some ice cream and I
was tired of not being able to be like everybody else. I wanted to be able to
eat sweets. I pulled into Subway/TCBY and anticipated eating a large Reece’s
Peanut Butter cup shiver with extra candy.
I was getting so excited about getting to eat my favorite combination of
icecream and candy. Then in the rear
view mirror I see my Uncle pull up behind me. I panicked. My entire family had been hearing me talk
about being off sugar and had seen me
lose all this weight. If he saw me order
the icecream, what would he think? A thousand
thoughts ran in my head. He waved, and I slightly waved back. As I pulled up to the window, the lady was
getting ready to hand me my cup full of yumminess. I quickly said, “ Can you
please put that in a bag?”. She looked at me like, What the heck? I repeated myself, “Would you mind putting
that in a bag for me?” I grabbed the bag
and quickly drove off. I think by the time I got home, I was so stressed out about
the situation that I probably didn’t even enjoy the icecream.
Now looking back it is rather funny. I have since shared the
story with my Uncle, and we all got a good laugh about it. In reality, though, I really did panic. I really was so afraid of people finding out
that I ate some icecream, that I wasn’t perfect, and them thinking “Oh she fell
off the wagon again”. There is such a
part of myself that wants to share my story, my difficulties, and my struggles.
But them there is a part of me, a big part of me, that is scared. What I am learning about myself is that when
I am feeling ashamed, scared, or upset I turn to food, and then it just creates
more of the problem that I am trying to fix.
I have promised myself that I will not beat myself up about my eating
anymore. This is a process for me as much as it is the person that is
struggling with 20 pounds.
And I guess I say all this to say that we are all trying to
figure life and ourselves out. We did not come with an instruction manual. I am going to continue to fall down just like
everybody else. But I am determined to keeping getting up and stay in the race.
Most importantly I am committed to no longer feeling ashamed of who I am. So if you happen upon me and I am eating a
Hot Fudge Sundae come sit beside me. I will buy one for you too;)
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