I started going to Anonymous meetings (AA, NA, MA, etc) by court order about six months ago. 2022 revealed that my wake and bake weed habit didn't play nice with my bipolar disorder, and I needed to get sober or else. The winter between getting sober and getting into a treatment program, my disordered eating habits came fully out of remission. I was nearly bedridden with depression, save for rousing myself to get food, and I gained 50 pounds. 2023 has brought many positive changes; I found a combination of meds that controls my bipolar and helps me be functional enough to hold a job for the first time in years, I've started to see my new sobriety as an amazing gift instead of desperately waiting for my probation to end so I could go right back to the habit, and I've restarted passion projects that were abandoned by stoner me. But food was replacing the role of compulsive addiction in my life, and my weight kept going up.
Two months ago, I talked to my substance use disorder counselor about my local once a week OA meeting potentially contributing to my weekly quota for court, and she agreed it was appropriate. I was surprised at first by how small OA was compared to AA -- usually just four to seven of us, most with cross addiction like me who found the meeting because they were already going to other meetings. One person was eligible and willing to be my sponsor, and we immediately hit it off. He mentioned in our first coffee get together that most of the meetings he goes to are online. He talked about a couple of tight knit regional groups where he was a regular member. I thought that made sense, since a big part of what makes a 12 step program actually work for people is always having a meeting to go to and people to call when they need support in a time of craving. But I didn't like Zoom very much, so initially dismissed it as something I would be interested in.
Enter a long and sleepless night, following a long day of obsessive fantasies about food, searching menus and recipes, and watching YouTube videos of people eating. I thought, hey, I have nothing better to do at this ungodly hour. So I went to the website (OA.org) to find a meeting. Sure enough, there was one starting right then, on another continent.
The meeting had over 150 attendees. In addition to a chairperson, there was a timekeeper and a security team to keep the schedule and the peace. All sorts of people were in attendance from different parts of the world, ranging from folks who had been abstinent and at a healthy weight for eight or more years to folks who were newly checked in to an inpatient hospital program. Many had their cameras on, and many did not. I kept mine off and tried to figure out how to fix my name from the full thing that I had needed for court to just the initial as is customary for anonymity, and before I could figure it out, someone did it for me.
The meeting started with a welcome and statement of purpose and inclusivity, followed by a meditation. It was a literature meeting, so a volunteer read a short passage from the big book of AA regarding a doctor's description of all the ways alcoholics try to find a way to moderate their drinking, such as switching the brand, the time of day, the company, and how futile it all was in their disease. Then the chairperson described guidelines for sharing (two minutes, stay on topic, avoid cross talk, avoid discussing specifics of trigger foods and focus on patterns of behavior) and then those who wished raised hands. Everyone took a moment to express gratitude as well as relating their experience. One person was a troll and quickly removed by the security team.
As is customary, the middle of the meeting contained a pause for the seventh tradition. The chairperson stressed that new people should not donate and if they wished they could purchase literature instead; they recommended attending six different meetings to evaluate if the program could be a good fit; and the chat was opened for links to free literature resources for new people and for anyone to offer their phone number for mutual support. At the end of the meeting, there was a breakout chatroom I forgot to try to attend.
I want to say that I am an atheist, and the twelve steps used by Anonymous meetings are quite spiritual. After several months of finding what in the program works for me and leaving the rest, I see that there doesn't have to be a contradiction. Much of the language in common usage harkens to a higher power imagined as god the father, but every member is welcome to find/create/share any understanding of a higher power that is personally meaningful. Higher powers that are meaningful and helpful to me at different times include the universe itself, the air we breathe, the river that runs nearby, the group itself, the power that expresses itself through the collective group conscience, and the knob on the meeting room door. I've been grappling with the first five steps, traversing through them again and again (like peeling an onion, one of my sponsors says) and who I am is changing. Yet, somehow, I am also becoming more myself. Today I have six days abstinent from binge eating. My stomach is currently empty, as it's the middle of the night, and I am not afraid. It feels unfamiliar, even strange. Yet, also, so much more comfortable than when it is distended beyond its capacity. My blood feels different in my veins. Not as thick. Clearer.
Anyway, these are just some reflections it's been therapeutic for me to write about. I could say a great deal more about the whole thing, and what it's been like for me to eat more and to eat less, but I haven't written this much in a long time and I'm out of practice. I hope there was something interesting about it, whether it's relevant to your situation or simply a new perspective on something you may or may not have heard of before.
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from loseit - Lose the Fat https://www.reddit.com/r/loseit/comments/16mm2ma/just_went_to_my_first_online_overeaters_anonymous/
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