A Year to Remember (35 page)
I laughed. “I wish it were that simple. You know how in the Warren Beatty remake of
An Affair to Remember
they make plans to meet on top of the Empire State Building in six months after they’ve situated their lives?”
She nodded.
“Well, Adam and I agreed if we could make certain changes in our own lives, we would meet at Seth’s Halloween party,” I said wistfully.
“I didn’t know that,” Hannah stated.
I filled them in on what had happened at the airport, finishing with Adam saying goodbye.
My friends had gone completely silent. Missy tapped her fingers on the table.
“Maybe the girl was his sister,” Missy offered helpfully.
“He doesn’t have a sister, but nice try. You don’t have to solve it for me. If it were innocent, he would have called me back. No, he played me. Some things never change.”
Even as she said the words, a part of her clung to the hope it was all one big misunderstanding. She didn’t know for a fact he cheated on her. Maybe there was another explanation.
But why hadn’t he called once he learned she hadn’t gotten engaged? Surely, Seth told him.
Then again, they did agree to give each other three months.
“Are you going to Seth’s party?” Lori asked, interrupting my contemplation.
“Yes. I always go, and this year won’t be any different. I’ve done everything I promised. I’m not going to spend any time wondering if he’ll show or not. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t love me, or at least, he didn’t love me enough.”
All of them sighed, as if thinking about the idea of a happy ever after.
I’d never be so gullible again.
OCTOBER 19, 2012
DETROIT, MICHIGAN
STATUS: SINGLE
Missy and I slowly rediscovered our friendship over the following weeks. I never would have believed we’d feel awkward with each other, but we did. In the six months we’d been apart, we had both undergone significant changes that had altered the way we viewed the world.
She started dating Hannah, and it seemed they were heading toward a serious relationship. Hannah brought out a playfulness in Missy she hadn’t seen in a long time. Sometimes they would join Alison, Lori, and I at the movies or dancing and other times, they chose to go on an official date by themselves.
I began to learn how to be friends with Missy without relying on her for all my decisions. At first I worried about discussing any of my problems with Missy for fear we’d resume our former dysfunctional relationship. Alison taught me that if I had a problem, I could talk about it with Missy without Missy having to solve the problem for me and Missy had learned how to just listen.
I also gave my second to last interview with the
Morning
show. I told Bethany I honestly didn’t expect to make my birthday deadline. Bethany kindly reminded me I had a free wedding if I did manage to snag someone by February 25. Viewers recommended wedding gowns and sites just in case I got lucky. Most of the time, I didn’t even think about the approaching deadline.
The time came for my ninety-day coin and I volunteered to tell my story at a meeting. I had twenty minutes to divulge to my new network of supportive friends what I was like before I became abstinent, what it’s like now, and how I got here. It sounded really easy until the day arrived and I broke out into hives along with one of my full-blown panic attacks.
Alison gave me a pep talk, but it wouldn’t calm the rising anxiety threatening to consume me. She told me my Higher Power would work through me to reach those that needed His guidance. I prayed for the strength to make it through my talk without saying anything stupid, like at my brother’s wedding.
It’s ironic that I have a fear of public speaking since I’d performed in several plays in my youth and rarely had stage fright. As a psychologist, I had to talk to strangers all the time.
The people in the room with me today weren’t strangers. They were my friends, and each one of them could relate to my story. They welcomed me with open arms into their community and to them I’ll forever be grateful. It was my time to give back.
“My first memory is of me standing on a chair in a hospital, staring out the window and eating an orange Creamsicle. I was two and my mother had had emergency surgery after almost dying when her appendix burst. In those days, patients stayed in the hospital to recover for several days. My grandmother helped to care for me and taught me cookies could temporarily dull the pain of my mother’s absence.
“I was a skinny kid and I didn’t eat a lot, so no one worried about giving me an extra sweet or two. When I got to grade school, my tummy grew bigger and my appetite larger. I ate like a grown adult, plus I constantly craved sweets. I also had ADHD and my parents limited my sugar, claiming it would help lessen my hyperactivity. Instead, I learned how to sneak and hide food.
“I went on my first diet at eight years old. I knew I didn’t look like the other girls with their flat stomachs and palpable ribcage. I found it more difficult to run and climb and eventually I grew to dislike any physical activity. When I lost the weight, I thought the other kids would be nice to me, but nothing changed. I still got teased and picked on and called fat. I wanted to eat a Twinkie for dessert like all the other kids, but my mother packed me fruit. Losing weight didn’t make me any happier. I had one close friend, Missy, and that was it. The other girls reluctantly invited me to their birthday parties, but I always felt like the odd one out, never part of the crowd. As a child, I couldn’t identify my feelings, much less describe them to an adult.
“By my teenage years, I had a full-blown eating disorder. I wavered between starvation and binges, made easier by the cases of chocolate candy bars stored in my bedroom closet that were intended to raise money for my youth group. I sold all the candy bars, but most of them to myself. I had to babysit extra hours to pay for them, just so I didn’t have to admit to my parents I had consumed about six candy bars a day for a month.
“My parents did everything they could to help me. They paid for diets and shrinks, ignored the problem, confronted the problem, restricted my food or allowed me to eat whatever I wanted. My weight was blamed on both my lack of willpower and their failure as my parents.
“At one point, I weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds. My doctor placed me on medications to control my blood pressure, cholesterol, and sugars. I knew if I maintained my patterns of eating, I’d die from a heart attack or a stroke before I turned forty.
“More importantly, I believed at that weight, I’d never find anyone who would want to marry me and raise kids with me. I joined a diet program through a hospital, which allowed me to lose weight extremely quickly by drinking five shakes a day and eliminating food.
“I lost a lot of weight and quit the diet before maintenance. I got to a comfortable weight. I wasn’t thin by any means, but I got off all the medications my doctor had prescribed for the conditions caused by my obesity.
“Still, I wasn’t happy. I couldn’t stop from feeling like a fraud. Here I counseled young women on self-esteem and no one had lower self-esteem than me. I wasn’t honest with myself or with others, pretending I didn’t spend Saturday night’s bingeing and watching television, passing out like an alcoholic and hungover from the binge the following day. Because my weight had stabilized over the last couple of years, I convinced myself I had everything under control, while at the same time, the guilt and shame I carried overwhelmed me. I couldn’t bury my unhappiness anymore.
“Some of you may know last February, my younger brother got married. I got drunk and admitted to a room full of people I was jealous of him. For the first time, I was honest. Before I could stop myself, I vowed to get married within the year. Then the media got wind of the story and I agreed to let them chronicle my journey. I put this huge pressure on myself because I couldn’t deal with the fact my brother got married before me. It seems silly now, but when I was in the food, it seemed like the right thing to do.
“Although I didn’t know it at the time, my Higher Power had a plan for me. I’m still not sure exactly what it was, but it sent me to Israel to find true love and back again to lose it, leading to an epiphany. I had hit rock bottom and I had no idea how to dig my way out. I needed help. I needed OA.
“These last few months have taught me I can’t do it alone. That when it comes to food, I have no willpower, and that’s okay. Because now, I have placed myself in the hands of my Higher Power, and my compulsion to overeat has been lifted.
“Am I happy? I wish I could say I am, but I refuse to be dishonest. I’m not happy, and that’s all right. My unhappiness won’t kill me, but my overeating to deal with my unhappiness would have killed me eventually. I’ve learned to live with my unhappiness. You know what? It’s not that bad. I’m content with my life. I believe that, someday, I will be happy.
“For the first time in my life, I love myself. I don’t need anyone else to love me or to validate me. I might never get married and if that’s my Higher Power’s wish, then I accept it. I’m not going to worry about it anymore. Now, I live in the present. I don’t look back, and I don’t anticipate the future. I take it one day at a time. For now, I’m where I need to be. Thank you.”
Everyone clapped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized it, but I never peeked at my notes once during the entire time of my talk. Alison had said my Higher Power would talk through me and that’s exactly how it felt.
After the meeting, everyone gave me a hug. For the first time, I felt like I belonged. I was no longer an outsider looking in. I was connected to these people and people all over the world through our OA community. I would never be alone again.
“Now that you have ninety days under your belt, you’re ready to begin Step Nine. It’s time to make amends,” Alison informed me.
“I haven’t finished Step Six yet. Shouldn’t I take the Steps in order?” I asked nervously.
The Ninth Step required me to make amends to those I’ve harmed. My list of those I’ve hurt might not be that long, but it required me to speak to those I’ve worked very hard to avoid. Like Caleb.
“Most people aren’t working on a deadline like you are, Sara,” Alison said, smirking while she filed her nails. She had the longest nails of anyone I knew and she constantly shaped them with a nail file. My guess is she needed to keep her hands busy.
“Deadline. What deadline?”
“Let’s see now ... In two weeks you’ll be going to your brother’s party where you might face Adam. Or you won’t. Either way, you’ll have to deal with it and I want you prepared. You need to talk to Missy and Caleb. I’m giving you twelve days to do it. Then if Adam is at the party, you’ll have put the past behind you and you’ll be ready to move on. If he’s not at the party, I want you to call him and make your amends.”
Oh, crap.
OCTOBER 20, 2012
DETROIT, MICHIGAN
“What did you need to speak to me about?” Missy asked as we waited for our drinks at our coffee shop.
I contemplated what I needed to say to her and I hoped she’d still want to be friends with me after. My goal was to make amends without hurting her in the process. After writing it on paper several different ways, I decided I couldn’t prepare for what I had to say.
“I’ve been working the Twelve Steps through Overeaters Anonymous. Are you familiar with it?”
We got our drinks and sat at the same table I had sat with Adam all those months ago when he gave me legal advice on my contract with the
Morning
show. He never did bill me for it.
“It’s like Alcoholics Anonymous only for food addicts, right? There’s a show on TV where the characters met at one of the meetings.”
