I had always had problems with food, but the problem had gotten worse and worse. I was 35 years old, in a wonderful new career, and my food was spiraling into one massive binge. Night after night I came home from work and binged until I finally went to sleep, sick, miserable, loathing myself and my total lack of self control. I lived for my nighttime binges. Food had become my very best friend, and I eagerly looked forward to my nights at home alone with my wonderful friend, my worst enemy, food.
At first I had only allowed myself to binge once a week for my Friday night "treat." But somehow slowly the binges started to pop up two or three times a week, then four or five, then somehow they were suddenly and horrifyingly every single night! Every night, night after night, week after week, the more frantically I tried to stop them, the worse my binges became. My food rocketed downward, my weight exploded upward, my life became a nightmare swirling wildly beyond the reach of any tiny shreds of control or reason I thought I had left. Night after night this went on for what seemed like an interminable nightmare. My panic grew with my binges, and only food could calm the panic down, in a vicious circle of insane addiction. On and on the horror went until the night of my worst binge ever, until the night when all hope sputtered out and I knew that this would be my life forever.
I had just finished eating more than I had ever eaten before, was lying on the floor, alone, sick, crying, helpless to stop myself, still wanting more food. I cried and cried, and finally cried out to some higher power that if he wanted me to have any control over my food, it was going to have to be his job to accomplish it, because I couldn't stop myself from eating even one more bite. All hope was gone. I cried for hours on that floor, apologizing over and over to my higher power for being so useless, telling him I could no longer believe or hope that I was going to be able to control even one bite of food. I cried and cried, and told my higher power that if he wanted me to be fat forever, I would do my best to accept myself fat, obese, or however he wanted me to be. I was completely and utterly defeated, without hope, and all I could do was cry and admit to my higher power how out of control and useless I was.
I didn't know it that night, but this was the beginning of my new life. Out of that utter defeat, the miracle began to grow. The very next day, when I started my nightly binge, I realized that there was one small food I didn't have to eat just for that one night. I still binged, yes. But my binge was one teeny, tiny bit smaller. And so began my journey, one tiny baby step at a time, one teeny bite uneaten at a time, one more almost-unmeasurably small bit of progress at a time. I never thought my abstinence was any good; I always wished it could be much, much better. But my higher power knew what I needed, and since I had finally admitted defeat and relinquished control, he could now take charge. My weight slowly slid off, and the biggest miracle of all is that it STAYED OFF! That night was 16 years ago for me, and as I look back now, I know that it was the most wonderful moment of my entire life. It was the first day of the miracle my higher power had waiting for me all along. It was my first day, my first Step One, and I would never be the same again.An Anonymous COE