I was a nervous wreck standing in line waiting to ride the Iron Rattler at Six Flags. There were many sounds around me: screaming, laughter, talking, and music. In the background I could hear noises of the many rollercoasters all over the park as they mechanically moved throughout the duration of the ride, twisting, turning, slowing down and speeding up, going in circles and flipping upside down. It had been 10 years since I last attempted to ride a rollercoaster. I will never forget that day as long as I live. I was with my family at an amusement park called Carowinds; it is similar to Six Flags. My children and I were in line. Our turn came up and we scrambled to find or seats. My son and daughter strapped themselves in and anxiously awaited the start of the ride. As for myself, I had difficulty buckling the harness... Continue Reading
The day before school started, I thought my son needed a haircut; he adamantly disagreed. All that was needed was a little trim to the layers around his face. I have some experience cutting hair and could have done it myself. However, I was pretty sure that, if I cut it, he’d complain about it no matter how it looked. Having put off the task for so long, I’d limited the choices of salons to those that don’t require appointments. This meant I would not know the stylist, but I was hoping for a conspirator who would craftily convince my 12-year-old that there was a reasonable compromise between what he wanted and what I wanted. That did not happen. The woman who cut his hair was not the least bit helpful. She ignored most of my questions and the few responses I did get were, “That’s not possible,” and “It... Continue Reading
I am 49, and I have been cooking meals since I married at 23 and moved to my own home. I wanted to emulate my mother and aunts who entertained regularly, cooking feasts of food for our large extended family, including the traditional Greek foods they had learned in their homeland before migrating to Australia. Early on, I collected cookbooks, attended cooking classes, and obsessively collected recipes from magazines, collating them into folders. I was determined to compile the perfect menu for each upcoming dinner party or family barbeque. As the years passed, cooking became less of a creative pastime and more of a chore which I resented. I was fearful of not serving the perfect meal or not serving adequate quantities, and I spent hours deciding what to cook. I was constantly afraid of not having enough time to prepare the meal. Any pleasure I had previously experienced in... Continue Reading
I remember walking into my first FA meeting expecting it to be like a scene out of the movie, One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I had never been to a Twelve-Step meeting, so my expectations were based upon how group sessions were portrayed in movies and television. I pictured someone like Nurse Ratched leading the meeting, stoically asking each member to share. I pictured a bunch of overweight, comic-book type characters, all sitting around in a circle, listening to each other talk about stuff that wasn’t going to be useful to me. I also pictured myself as Jack Nicholson, the hero character who was all too wise for the group, realizing he was surrounded by a bunch of fat idiots. I expected to be entertained. I thought, at best, I could walk away with a story that I could share with others about the experience – perhaps to get... Continue Reading
Record-setting rains created large-scale destruction in my area this past spring, as rising rivers overflowed their boundaries and caused massive flooding. As I watched the televised reports, I realized how this principle applies to my own life. Just like a runaway river, out of control eating causes many levels of destruction: added weight, shame and guilt, loathing of my lack of willpower, and spiritual disintegration. I experience sanity and abundant life only when I live within certain prescribed boundaries. Otherwise, my body, soul, and spirit suffer. While I know that I have no power to stop outside circumstances, fear and my desire to control warp my thinking. “Maybe I have no say over life in general,” I think, “but I can control my intake of food.” In my head, control equals no boundaries—nothing off limits, no censure of quantities or types of food. I will eat whatever I want and no one can... Continue Reading
