A Story of Recovery:
Abstinent Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday when I was a child. Growing up in California, I remember the playful ritual of raking soft and crunchy leaves. In November, there were still some red, orange, and golden yellow leaves that we raked into giant piles on my friend’s lawn. We would run and fling ourselves into the cushiony masses over and over, giggling with delight. Then my friend’s father would bag the leaves and order us upstairs to clean up. We knew what was next. Off to the kitchen, filled with home- cooked rewards for our work. Next we would repeat the same silly ritual at my own home. That would be the beginning of our day of thanks, family, food, and merriment. There seemed to be no problem with this over-sized event. Everything seemed joyful, loving, and harmless. Childhood metabolism and boundless energy seemed to offset the assault of the quantities.
I certainly did not realize that, for me, these joyful moments would be the event that marked a traditional Thanksgiving gobble-gobble-and-binge day. Little did I know, in my ten-year-old mind, that what seemed like simple pleasures would turn into holiday seasons of bingeing in hopelessness with monstrous quantities of food.
As I aged, my body was no longer equipped to cope with the yearly gobbling. In my adult years, what would start out as a blissful Thanksgiving morning would end up with my being remorseful, fatigued, and miserably stuffed at end of the day. My poor body was forced to cope with the sheer stress of consumption of that huge volume of food. Along with the full day of thanks and bingeing came the associated weight gain. If I dared step onto that dreaded and heartless scale the following day, my weight could easily read a gain of five or more pounds.
Additional disappointment and distress would happen when the gobble day weight would not leave me before other sweets and treats would enter the picture to add yet more pounds into the holiday weight-gain equation. By New Years Day, it would not be unusual for me to have packed on a total of 10 to12 pounds. One holiday, that ugly enemy scale told me my weight was 245 pounds!
After decades of unhealthy and uncontrollable eating and living, and after the dozens of times that I hurt my body with gobble days, I found myself at 206.6 pounds, and heading back up. My doctor insisted that I attend an FA meeting.
When I first arrived, I nearly left, because I thought I had stumbled into the wrong place. The room was filled with very good-looking women with screamingly great figures. I was the only fat person in the room. Hmmm. I suspected that I was in a room with anorexics and bulimics. And indeed, a lovely soft-spoken pretty blond woman shared her success with underweight and food addiction. Yep. That was it. I concluded this meeting wouldn’t really apply to me. I figured I might have to excuse myself and leave. My problem was certainly not eating too little or depriving myself.
But then came others who shared their stories. I wanted to be invisible, and hoped they wouldn’t notice me. I tried to avoid eye contact. However when they spoke, they looked directly at me. I guessed they figured out I was new. Soon I became absorbed into their enthusiasm as they generously shared their personal numbers. One smart, strong, and impressive woman had lost 140 pounds and successfully kept those pounds off for over 10 years. Other successful weight-loss stories sent me into a state of amazement. I could not absorb all that was being read or expressed, but for the first time, I experienced hope. Hope for them, hope for me, hope for people who were unhealthy, and hope for people who were obsessed with food.
Thanksgiving was a mere two days past my first 90 days of abstinence. I wondered what my experience would be like on my maiden voyage through an abstinent gobble day. Would I be physically or emotionally empty or bored? Would I feel deprived? I received my answer: A resounding “no!”
By the end of my 90 days, I had already shed 22 pounds and my medical health had improved dramatically. I was happier and more peaceful. I had experienced a spiritual awakening and a connection with God and others that I had not known before. My husband and my adult children were delighted, and they supported my abstinence.
For Thanksgiving dinner, with the exception of a couple of dishes, the table was filled with pretty and colorful food on my food plan. The meal was wonderful. I loved being with my family and talking, laughing, and sharing, rather than obsessing about what I was going to eat next. After dinner, we played games, listened to great tunes, sang to oldies, and ended up having a dance contest! At the end of the evening, my husband and I chatted about the wonderful day and evening. Later, lying quietly in bed, I felt the opposite of misery. I was filled with the happiness and joy of my very first un-gobble Thanksgiving Day, with 60 pounds off my body and good medical health.