A matter of life and death

Hi All,

When I was at the VA hospital Friday, I saw something that was really disturbing to me... Or maybe eye opening. In the waiting room there was a man who must have been about 500 pounds. He could barely walk and each breath was laborious and wheezy sounding. He was in pitiful shape. Sadly, he was so addicted to food that he was ignoring all the no food or drink allowed signs and was openly drinking a big regular coke and eating a pile of candy bars and several of those single packaged cookies that one buys from vending machines. He was reading a book and I was watching him unconsciously stuffing one after the other in his mouth (this could not be called eating, it was literally 'stuffing food in'. I know because I use to do it all the time). Then, he dropped a partially eaten cookie on the floor and was hugely upset. The poor fellow could not just bend forward and pick it up even though he was seated and it was right at his feet. He had to work himself up out of the chair with considerable effort and swearing, and then get down on his knees so he could reach the floor to pick up his cookie. By the time he was sitting back in his chair his face was beet red and he was breathing so hard I feared he would pass out right there in front of me. Then, without a second thought, he stuffed the rest of that dirty cookie in his mouth and ate it. I was truly horrified. I felt so sorry for him but at the same time I knew, that if I hadn't started doing something back 3 or 4 years ago when I first started doing the OA thing and found Cathie's TWR e-list, that is precisely where I'd be right now, if I was even still alive.

I really can't discount all the time my food was hideous in the last few years. In between all the binges and little failures; in between all the "I'll start for real this time tomorrows" there were many many days and many more parts of days where I didn't binge. Where I was able to make health promoting food choices. All those short little successes DO COUNT and do add up.

It really brought home to me the power of this disease and the power of the old recovery slogan, "progress not perfection". Perhaps this man had some additional diseases that added to his problems. I tried to be non-judgmental, yet I couldn't help seeing the obvious — no matter what else was going on with this fellow, compulsive eating surely wasn't doing him any good.

Today I am so very grateful that I am blessed with a choice about the quality and quantity of the food I put in my body. I've finally come to the point where I am quite comfortable with this new lifestyle. I'm enjoying it. I can't explain in any specific terms how I have come to be able to string a few months of health promoting eating together — finally. I wish I could figure out what the trick was so I could tell everyone. It was a process that evolved over time and continues to evolve. It was the culmination of a thousand little failures and set-backs. Staying hopeful is so important. I know it's awfully hard at times to feel any believable hope. But learning to see and give ourselves credit for every single small success helps. One healthy balanced meal today is a positive thing if you binged all day yesterday. Small baby steps really can get us to the desired destination. For me, that was the only thing that worked.

Lest I get cocky and take my recovery for granted — I know today that I am just as close to a binge as I am to making healthy food choices. Hearing about Cathie's friend passing due to her addiction and seeing that poor fellow at the hospital Friday make it clear to me that these are literally matters of life and death.

Love, Dave