This speaker has been recorded at an online meeting of Addictive Eaters Anonymous.
You can email us at contact@aeainfo.org
Good evening everyone, my name is Karen, I am an addictive eater
and thank you for the meeting, it's lovely to see you all.
I've learned such a lot in the last 12 months since coming into AEA and what I
do recognize is that I was definitely born with this illness, this disease.
When I was probably about four months old, my parents always told the story
about how they took me to the doctors because I never seemed to sleep.
I was always lying in my cot or my crib with my eyes open.
And the GP said “No, no, no she will be sleeping. It's just her brain trying to take everything in.”
And that's very much set the benchmark for the next 60 years,
my brain overworking, overthinking, over-analyzing, trying to take everything in.
I recognized from the age of four or five that I had an issue with food;
that I didn't act normally - whatever normal is - around food. I can vividly recall birthday parties
where I would hang around the great big trestle table full of all the goodies, cake and crisps and and egg sandwiches, which was my favorite, which was a bonus because none of my peers liked the egg
sandwiches so I could just gleefully stand there stuffing the lot, while my friends were saying
"come and find, you know, pass the parcel" or play the party games. So I distinctly remember that.
There was no reason for me to have to consume as much food as I did.
I came from a comfortable family;
I have a younger brother, both parents, my mother didn't work, my father did. There was always
adequate food in the house, there was always enough. We were always free to help ourselves,
but I don't recall there ever being that many treats in the house. My mother often baked cakes.
And we had to leave the table, we had to ask to leave the table, get permission to leave the
table, but that was when our plate was empty. But both my parents were children of the war years.
But it was my grandparents across the road, my mum's mum, who worked in a little tobacconist
and used to bring home sweets; big, big Kit Kats, full-size Bounties,
bars of chocolate... and every night we were sent over, my brother and I,
were sent over to my grandma's to get out of the way from my mum and our grandma,
my grandma used to let us take at least two sometimes three of these bars of chocolate
home with us. One for after our dinner, one to take to school and perhaps one to share with a friend. That never happened with me. I would eat one straight after dinner, I scurried the two, other two, up in my room and they both would have been eaten by that night before I went to bed.
I’ve shared before I suspect my brother took his to school and sold them, he's, he's very
yeah... but I’m not, not me, I used to eat them. I was always the chubby, chubby kid in class...
I don't ever recall being bullied, never recall that, but I was quite quick-witted with my
tongue... but what I can remember is - and I’ve still got that phobia of it now - I
could never, ever get up the rope. Anyone who was born in the 60s,
PE teachers or primary school teachers were obsessed with making children climb up ropes.
I could never ever do that. And that put me off exercise right from the start. So my teenage
years were quite turbulent; slowly piling on the weight, losing a little bit, piling on some more.
Buying clothes for me wasn't easy; I'm only short, so everything was far too long.
But more importantly for me what I can recall, really from probably the age of seven or eight is,
I wasn't like my friends, there was something different and I couldn't figure out what.
I didn't have the best relationship with my mum and her, her answer to everything
was just 'go to your room' and in the end, I kind of liked being in
my room. I’d have obviously my bar of chocolate my grandma's given me,
a book, I’d have my little radio and I’d happily sit there for hours, just in my own company.
I was really lucky, I had lots of friends. I never could seem to really keep anyone that close to me,
perhaps one or two, but not that close. And then when I got to about 15, alcohol...(haha) alcohol
started creeping in. It makes me laugh because I used to lie about my age to get into pubs
to say I was older, and now I lie about my age to say I’m younger! How crazy is that! Yeah so...
Not, it wasn't frowned upon by my parents uh, funnily enough, my father's family have
alcohol issues and it was kind of accepted that that's just what you do when you're 15,
16, 17... you're trying things out.
I started work when I was 17 in London and I’ve shared before that I distinctly
remember leaving that interview telling myself that this was going to stop.
I was going to get a grip with my eating and be normal around food. And it didn't happen.
I met my first husband when I was 17 and made the decision that any
attention was better than no attention, and I was married six days after my 20th birthday.
Struggled to get a wedding dress to fit me, but I had the white wedding.
And it was, deep down, and I’ve made amends for this, I knew it was the wrong match.
I was using it as an excuse to fill that void - to try to make myself happy;
thinking if I was with someone who loved me and we set up a home things would be better.
And things got a lot worse. A lot worse.
And subsequently, I turned to food.
I moved out of the area where I grew up and moved away from friends.
And had very little contact with other people, so my little social circle which was quite small, to start with,
just started to shrink more and more. Needless to say, that marriage didn't last and I had a period in my
late 20s, early 30s where I was out clubbing it, drinking it and having a jolly good time.
But I wasn't happy. Outside I was like a swan, giving the impression
that all was well, but underneath I was panicking, I was clinging on to something,
couldn't find what I needed, knew there was something but couldn't quite put my finger on it.
Then I met my second husband and within, within six weeks decided that I was going to move, I was living in Kent at the time, I was going to move up Stoke-On-Trent because this was going to be the answer to all my problems. This person
was going to change my life and all will be well. And for a time it was. For a time it really was.
I was really fortunate enough to have my daughter. And all the while I was pregnant,
I was really mindful of ticking all the boxes and being seen to do the right thing. But as
soon as she was born the fear and the panic came back. And so did the food.
And I found myself really, really isolated. Because the few friends that I did have were
150 miles away down in Kent and I had no one in Stoke. My mother-in-law was working full-time, all his extended family were working, my mother who I still didn't have a close relationship, didn't come up and see my daughter till she was six weeks old and I struggled.
I struggled with the isolation and the fear
and the resentments that this baby was mine, just mine to look after,
and all the craziness and the madness in my head that I felt I was being judged by other people.
So my daily little treat was to finally get her washed, dressed, clothed, fed, in the pram,
nip into the co-op for a pack of perhaps six-pack of wagon wheels and the local paper,
and go and sit in the crematorium with the dead, because they can't hurt you or answer you back,
and sit there for an hour just eating the wagon wheels and reading the paper.
Disposing of the wrapper on the way so no one knew my guilty secret, secret and coming home again.
And even then I was slightly manic. I couldn't sit still, everything had to be perfect,
everything had to look good, everything had to be in its place.
And you can't sustain that forever.
And that was very much the next 20 odd years.
Sometimes I clawed it back. Sometimes I felt better, but I distinctly remember saying to my,
my husband at one point, we had a beautiful home, very much what it says in the Big Book, I always
smile when I read that, we had a beautiful home, four bedrooms, four bathrooms, double garage,
huge garden, everything... but still there was a hole in my soul, still I was restless,
I was discontent, I was irritable.... and I distinctly remember saying to him, because he
couldn't work out why that 'I’d be happy sleeping in a cardboard box in a doorway if I was happy.'
So that marriage failed.
And that was a difficult time, difficult time and I turned to food again.
And lived on my own for a couple of years. Again very few friends, and then made the
decision to move back to London. I come to live in London. And for a time that kind of worked.
Yeah, it kind of worked, but still, I had moments of, depression, where life was very low. I felt
very lonely, very tearful. I felt... as if no one understood me, I felt as if I didn't deserve to
be loved. I certainly didn't feel, deserve to be happy, let alone content. And I actually reached
out, probably four years ago now, to empathetic GP that I had that, that I had issues around food.
Which was very tearful and she got me in contact with the mental health team here in Southwark.
And a lovely woman rang and we had a triage phone call and she said she would give me some help.
And then I waited 18 months for that help.
And in that time I’d been Slimming World lost three stone,
by the time they called, put two stone of that back on again
and when the reception receptionist said "Oh well I'll tell them now you're okay"
I actually said to her "No, no I’m not okay, I’m just trying to figure it out myself."
So life took me on this crazy journey of living in London and doing all the mad things London
gives you. And then we came to lockdown last year. And I was sharing with who I thought was a friend,
flatmate... and the whole relationship between me and the two people imploded
and I found myself in June 2020 ...in 2020, having to find somewhere to live in London on
my own and I was terrified. If any of you know London, rents are absolutely extortionate.
I’ve always worked for charities, I’m working for the NHS at the moment - so not working
for google! Not earning thousands!! - but I knew that I had to figure it out.
And I even knew then that I’d figured out things before... I didn't realize then as
I do now it's my Higher Power doing it for me! But I had no choice. I was totally out
of control then with the food and the thinking. I was ordering food on amazon,
amazon prime, that was coming the next day. Squirreling it into my room. Thinking all
day about the box of goodies that were hiding in the wardrobe. Sitting every night eating them,
and then disposing of the rubbish again in the bin when everybody was out of the flat.
And I knew, if I didn't do something about this,
I was just going to kill myself. Either through overeating
or take my own life because life was really, really miserable and terribly, terribly grim.
So as I’ve worked in the charitable sector all these years, I’ve been very good at telling other
people what they could do, but not telling myself. So I knew about BEAT, the charity,
and I looked on there and found AEA and picked up the phone and made that phone call.
And come along to the meetings. And the first two meetings I sat here and cried my eyes out. Because
for the first time in my life, there was other people! I wasn't the only one. I honestly thought
I was the only one that had this, this disease, this illness, this overeating, this madness...
this restlessness! But there was all these beautiful faces
sharing their stories, that resonated with me and they looked calm and they looked serene
and they had something that I wanted. So I’ve always been curious and I kept coming back.
And very much what I hear now from new members, I was really reluctant to pick up
the phone and ring people... because that seemed to be intruding on them. But I was determined that
if, I was told that if I was prepared to go to any lengths, there is a solution.
And I went to those lengths. I asked someone to be my sponsor
and I didn't always like what I was being asked to do, but I did it.
I kept showing up. And worked through, through the 12 steps which was quite painful at times.
But nothing felt better than making those amends to those people that I realized
my part in, in that experience, that I had to do.
So I don't call myself in recovery, I always say that I’m in discovery. Because even at this
ripe old age, I actually surrendered, I think it was nine days before my 60th birthday, so I know
I’ve been living with that disease for 60 years... and the last 12 years is totally - it sounds
very cheesy now - but being reborn, that has given me a new life, a second life.
With the love and guidance of my sponsor and the other people in the fellowship, I know that
there's people there for me. But more importantly, I’m growing stronger with my spiritual journey,
and the love that's been shown with me from my Higher Power.
I’ve always believed in something; again couldn't quite figure out what it was. But
now I know that the Higher Power, the Universe, is doing for me what I was unable to do myself.
So you'll hear this word bandied about a bit, but it truly is a miracle.
It truly is a miracle. I sometimes have to pinch myself. Every morning, I get up, I say
'Good morning' to my Higher Power. I say I’m an addictive eater, that's never ever going to way, go,
go, go away... I know I’m not going to graduate from this program and I don't want to,
I don't want to. I’m trying to cram as much in every day that I can now.
It'd be great if the Universe gave me another 60 years of this new life to live - I suspect
He won't, I suspect I’m asking too much for that, you never know He might have better
plans for me - but I am just truly grateful for this new way of living.
For me, it's not a program, it's a way of life. And I need to show up every day, accept,
be willing, help as many people as I can, make those calls, read that book, show up at meetings.
And it's because I want to, not because I have to. I truly want to be here. So thank you for
listening to me. Lovely to see you all and I’m going to finish it there. Thanks a lot, thank you.