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A Socially Acceptable Addiction

Compulsive Overeating

By Olivia CoxPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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On February 14, 2012, I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. I was 15-years-old, a sophomore in high school, and I was perpetually moody, or rather, as my mother likes to say, “temporarily insane.” I was fortunate enough to have been surrounded by diabetes my whole life, as my father, uncle, and aunt are all Type 1 diabetics, so this diagnosis did not force me to completely change my lifestyle. The diagnosis itself was just shocking. After all, I was post-puberty and the disease was supposed to skip generations. I’m usually a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” type of person, but I just could not do it this time. I tail-spun into a deep depression and began comforting myself with food. Not only was I now officially a diabetic, but also a compulsive overeater.

As the following five years unfolded, I began to display the classic symptoms of compulsive overeating. I would hide food from others and eat in private because I was ashamed of myself and my behaviors. I am a smart and conscientious young woman, highly accomplished, both musically and academically, and in control of everything in my life. I just cannot control what I put in my mouth. This realization heightened the guilt and shame, perpetuating my compulsion.

It took me five years, numerous diets and workout regimens to realize that I was sick with a mental disease. I was addicted to compulsively overeating to quell emotions that I was unwilling to acknowledge, and I was completely and utterly incapable of stopping myself from the act. Upon returning home from a term abroad in Paris, I yielded to myself that I could not continue that lifestyle any longer. My relationship with food would be the death of me, literally and figuratively.

I had heard of Overeaters Anonymous through various websites and people, but I had been resistant. I thought that I was strong, independent, and capable of controlling this myself. Oh, how wrong was I.

After weeks of cycling through binge-eating, guilt, and shame, on August 2, 2017, I mustered up the courage to walk into my first Overeaters Anonymous meeting. I was able to sit through the first 10 minutes of the meeting without crying until the leader read,

“But I’m too weak. I’ll never make it!” Don’t worry; we have all thought and said the same thing. The amazing secret to the success of this program is just that: weakness. It is weakness, not strength, that binds us to each other and to a higher power and somehow gives us an ability to do what we cannot do alone.

If you decide you are one of us, we welcome you with open arms. Whatever your circumstances, we offer you the gift of acceptance. You are not alone anymore. Welcome to Overeaters Anonymous. Welcome home!” (Overeaters Anonymous, 2014)

Finally, I found what I had needed for so long: love, acceptance, and security. I found a home. A place where I was no longer judged for my behaviors because everyone else experienced the same thing. I found a space where I could share what was troubling me and not receive any unsolicited advice, just a “Thanks for sharing, Olivia.” Sometimes, that’s all a person needs.

Within the first few weeks of my recovery, I forged one of the most important relationships in my life: a sponsorship. I remember my sponsor saying to me during our first phone call, “Olivia, it may not seem like it now, but what you gain from working the Program is far better than anything you have to give up.” It has only been seven weeks since I first stepped into that room, but I already know that she is right. In the past year, I have regained my sanity, something that I had lost for far too long. I know that this journey I am on will never come to an end; I will never be cured. I will always struggle with it, some days more than others, but that is okay. Through this daily struggle, I will learn how to better love myself, and others, unconditionally and without judgment. I pray that someday I will be able to share the gift of recovery with someone else that stands where I once stood.

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