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“Ow,” I shouted in my head and into the cold, dark night.

I was lying on my back, my left leg tucked under me in an odd position. There was pain but it would’ve been worse without my thick winter coat cushioning my fall. There was no one in the dark, icy hotel parking lot. I carefully straightened my leg which was stiff but working fine. No break. Thank You, God. I rolled onto my side. Pain, but nothing searing. I felt the rock in my jeans pocket and fished it out from the layers of winter clothes.

“These are the days of miracle and wonder — Paul Simon” it said. My sponsor had given me this touchstone which I carried with me everywhere I went. “Yes, they are,” I sighed in agreement. How else could I have driven 500 miles alone in the middle of a pandemic, in wintry weather, and taken a fall on ice without injuries, to be with my developmentally disabled brother who was dying, if there weren’t miracles?

No one was in the parking lot still. The bare bushes near me were coated in ice. I tried to get up but fell again. There was no salt on the pavement yet. Somehow, I crawled to get under the awning of the hotel registration entrance, got my footing and stood up. An employee was coming out with a bucket of salt.

During the following two weeks, I relived this slip and fall several times when I broke my abstinence. There were many, many difficult conversations with doctors, my brother’s guardian/lawyer, nursing facility staff, and my conscience. There were few times my footing felt stable. Every couple of days I had a slip from abstinence, but I got back up. I kept trying. I talked to my sponsor. I attended a meeting or two virtually. I read literature. And I wrote. A lot. I wrote about my feelings. I kept a journal of the medical decisions and actions. 

And there were miracles. Moments of accepting my helplessness. Gratitude for everyone working on my brother’s behalf. Heightened awareness of a spiritual connection while sitting in silence with him. What I finally realized during those 2 weeks was that I was not my brother’s higher power. I never was. He had been in the care of his Higher Power all his life and I was blessed to witness his Higher Power’s love and caring actions these last few days. How could I possibly have had the power to do these things for him?  I couldn’t, of course. 

The weather had cleared up for my journey home. A few days later I was blessed with solid abstinence.

— Carol D.

I often repeat the phrase, “You can only plant the seed, you don’t know how much BS (manure) it will need before it grows.” I’m sitting here crying tonight as I write this. Grateful tears for the times I planted seeds by carrying a message of recovery without even knowing it. Tonight, an old friend Zoomed into a meeting after contacting me, because a family member had questions about program. What a blessing, the conversation that must have happened was so long ago that I don’t even remember the context. And I certainly didn’t think this friend needed the program. Tonight, I pray to be a message of recovery, not a mess. I pray to be clean with my food so that I may hear when HP needs me to deliver HP’s message. It’s not my decision. After countless years of telling people about OA, because I thought they needed it, almost everyone who has walked through the doors has been because someone who saw me change told someone else about that thing I do.

Thank you HP and thank you OA.

— Cassidy S.

A fellowship friend was supposed to meet me at an OA meeting, but her car broke down en route. She sent me a message later that night that read, “By the time AAA came it was too late and I wanted to get home with my donut.” I had to read the word donut three times before I realized the “donut” she was referring to was the spare tire the mechanic put on her car! (Boy, do I have the mind of a compulsive overeater, or what?!?!)

For recovery month (September) I wanted to put some OA literature at our local library. When the desk clerk asked me what organization I was with I said, “Overeaters Anonymous.” She gave me a puzzled look and said “Over Readers Anonymous? We like it when people read here.”

— Kara M.

“The Past is littered with resentments.
Fear haunts the Future.
The Present is a Gift, safe and joyful!
The Road to Humility is paved with Surrender mixed with Acceptance.
The Destination is Sacred Awe.”
— Beverly B.

NEW ARTICLE!

“Tradition 5:  Each group has but one primary purpose — to carry its message to the compulsive overeater who still suffers.”

Since February of 2020, tradition five seems like a message that has been hard to carry.  Many of us have survived and were grateful for the strength we found in our HP and working the steps.  However, we have witnessed many losses in our fellowship.  Our local meeting list have been slashed in ½ and very few have made the transition back to F2F. If we did not go permanently virtual, our meeting attendance has dropped however if we did go permanently virtual, we welcomed people from all over the world and if we were lucky, they returned for more than just that one meeting.  I have sponsored people who have shown me the miracle of recovery and I’ve never met them!  

Before I physically entered my first OA meeting, I tried to join by logging into a virtual chat OA meeting – no video, no phone just a chat room!  I believe I was eating ice cream at the time. I didn’t chat, just kept watching.  I would return to the website again and again to stare at the 12 steps hoping that by reading them I would be able to stop eating.  Trying to avoid connection with other humans, I kept at this insanity for a few more years until 2007.  In April of that year, I was so desperate I went to a local meeting here in Cincinnati.  People saw me for the first time.  I witnessed other real compulsive overeaters.  I could not hide behind my computer screen.  They even tried to hug me – which I tried very hard to avoid for many weeks.

I am selfishly grateful for the zoom OA meetings…I’ve gone all over the world to attend meetings.  I also met people in person for walks and after being vaccinated, I began to visit with fellows I hadn’t seen in a year.  Tradition 5 asks us to carry the message, and sometimes the message doesn’t get thru our virtual path.  Most of you know that many of our fellows are hiding behind that “photo” of themselves…they don’t want to be seen.  Virtual meetings provide a way to connect to OA but also a way to stay more in denial and placate ourselves with feel good meetings with other people who share our disease.  

I, as a newcomer, would be eating behind that screen or barely awake from a food coma.  For those of us abstinent and recovered, don’t forget that F2F meetings is where we got recovery.  We were finally able to be seen and had nowhere to hide.  It’s our duty to help get some of our meetings back to in-person.  Perhaps we keep virtual meetings, but we need more options for those  still suffering.  Yes, after 18 months, it does seem inconvenient to drive across town to attend a meeting.  Yes, it seems like a lot of work to find a new location for our meeting, so why not take the easy route and stay virtual?  

This is why not – according to Dr. Bob:
1. Sense of duty.
2. It is a pleasure.
3. Because in so doing I am paying my debt to the man who took time to pass it on to me.
4. Because every time I do it, I take out a little more insurance for myself against a possible slip.

Responsibility pledge:  Always to extend the hand and heart of OA to all who share my compulsion; for this I am responsible.

Yes, this is a go team- go blog post.  When you feel it’s safe, grab another member and say, “let’s start a meeting”.

 — Rachael W.