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Maxolon (Metoclopramide)

###table###Maxolon(Metoclopramide)
OVEREATERS ANONYMOUS: JOURNEY THROUGH DECEPTION
Before I came through the OA door five years ago, I had done little about my weight problem. I blamed my sluggish metabolism. I complained that other people could eat more than I did without gaining a pound. Life was so unfair!
Years ago I discovered that when I kept busy the weight melted off without any conscious effort on my part. So I started a cycle that alternated between distraction and depression for the next twenty years. While busy, I maintained a low weight of 120 pounds. When the distraction lost its charm, as it inevitably did, I became depressed and immobilized. My weight would skyrocket, rising higher with each slump.
At five feet, three inches, I weighed 178 pounds. I know this only because I visited a diet club where they weighed me. Normally I shunned scales, mirrors and cameras so that I could keep my self-deceptions intact. I went through my fat periods in a state of isolation and suspension, waiting till I could become “real” again with another spate of activity.
Five years ago I was in another slump. This time I could not afford to wait for something to spur me out of it. I was facing possible bankruptcy and had two lawsuits pending. It might be years before these were settled. I had to come to terms with my weight problem now. I had no experience with other diet systems, but the choice was easy: I was broke and OA was free.
From the time of my first meeting I abstained and called my food in daily to the sponsor I chose that night. The food plan I adopted was a new game to me and by playing it I lost 52 pounds in four and a half months. My “tools” were diet pop, artificial sweeteners and nail biting. I went to many meetings, but treated them as living soap operas. I tuned out what I thought of as the “religious” part of the program. I stayed aloof because I did not want to identify with losers, i.e. compulsive overeaters. I was there to lose weight, not to change my personality or get religion. I thought my personality was just fine, and I already believed in a loving God.
When my weight got down to 120 pounds, I left OA with my slim body and my fat head.
I continued to abstain by myself and lost four more pounds. I was filled with complacence: I had the magic formula and I could do it alone! For the next two and a half years I weighed myself daily, kept a log of everything I ate and “passed” as a thin person. Certainly, I never gave any credit to OA.
I did learn three things from that first experience with OA: to follow a food plan; to be aware of what I ate; and never to overeat because of guilt about overeating. I applied the discipline I had learned from abstinence to other areas of my life and was quite successful. My new job was the best I had ever had. I learned sports and tried my hand at new hobbies such as dressmaking. Every relationship in my life bloomed. I never looked or felt better.
But something was missing. Toward the end of this period my weight began to climb until it reached 142 pounds. The new pants I had just made soon would not fit.
Back I came to OA, more desperate, less cocky, more willing. While I had been away I had given up my “tools.” I decided not to take them back. This time I would be forced to work the program instead of transferring my compulsions. This time, if I blew it, I knew it would be with food.
I began by attacking my self-serving deceptions.
I had no metabolism problem. My glands worked just as well at one weight as another.
I couldn’t blame heredity. True, my mother and sisters were compulsive overeaters, but my father always ate moderately and kept his normal weight.
I couldn’t blame my attitudes toward food on my conditioning. My mother had served large portions and insisted that I finish them. But millions of youngsters are given too much to eat and are urged to finish it because “wasting food is a sin,” yet they do not wind up gorging themselves. It was true that it pleased my mother to see me enjoy her cooking. But I rebelled against her authority in other ways constantly and felt no compunction about not pleasing her.
It had not been my parents who told me to devour my lunch on the way to school, to steal candy from neighbors, to take nickels from my mother’s purse for candy bars. They told me candy was junk and stealing was wrong.
I could not blame lack of parental love either. I assumed guilt by association when my mother told me that my birth coincided with her goiter operation, which left an ugly scar. I believed myself rejected when my father said that before my birth he was fearful about the Depression and really didn’t want another child. I took up martyrdom because my parents gave me approval only when I was polite and obedient, and they seemed unable to accept my feelings.
But I came to realize that most people are raised with conditional love; that nearly everyone is sometimes made to feel inferior by his parents; that many men and women lack self-worth. But they do not become overeaters. While I cleared my head of these old tapes, I had to abstain.
I could not blame my compulsion on the burdens I had grown up with. I was born with some physical abnormalities. My mother and sister were psychotic. My brother was mentally retarded. My father deserted his family when I was twelve, and we were destitute. We lived in a slum where violence was commonplace. Food was my bit of sweetness in such misery.
But I have learned to live with each of these facts and I have grown stronger because of them. Others have just as much to contend with and they do not choose to eat over it. Living in the past, bemoaning my fate is just a way to justify my eating.
I have learned to see myself as one of God’s children, neither the best nor the worst. I know I have talent, intelligence and ability, and I have had many fine accomplishments. But my self-worth is not validated by any of these. I can love and accept my weaknesses as well as my strengths because they are part of me. I make many mistakes as I reach toward growth, but I no longer expect perfection from myself or anyone else.
Despite this acceptance, I am still tempted at times to kill myself by overeating. My loving self has to work a very tough program to prevent my destroying self from taking over.
I have learned to value more of the simple things, such as the sheer joy of being alive. My happiness depends on my attitude, not on circumstances. Whether I am a compulsive overeater or not, life presents daily problems; how happy I want to be while dealing with them is up to me.
I know now that my immature personality was the root of my problem and that growing up was the solution. I learned to accept my feelings and to take responsibility for channeling them constructively. I went through the steps. I became more patient, compassionate and honest. The changes in me brought loving responses from those around me. My weight dropped to 105 pounds.
But I had more to learn. It was painful to realize that my feelings were not the cause of my eating. I had gone through temper tantrums, guilt, loneliness, resentment, fear — many negative emotions — all my life. I overate not because of the feelings, but because I was food-obsessed and I gave myself license to overeat by producing the negative emotions. In other words, I made myself upset so that I had an excuse to overeat.
I may never be emotionally mature. This is an endless journey. But while I travel on it, I cannot use my lack of maturity to justify my eating. Emotional and physical binges are no longer substitutes for action.
I see now that the alternative to abstinence, for me, is suicide. I am no longer able to tell myself lies to excuse binges. In order to abstain, I keep these things in mind: 1.1 believe, for today, that I must compensate for my lack of food brakes by maintaining those disciplines that enable me to be moderate. 2. For me, one bite of certain carbohydrates is suicide, fast or slow, because I lack psychosomatic immunity to them. 3.1 cannot indulge in negativity, because it blocks out my program awareness. Self-pity is a luxury I cannot afford because it causes amnesia, and I revert to old habits. 4. My primary responsibility is to abstain. All roles — wife, mother, friend, employee — come second. If abstinence is not first, I will lose it. Everything that interferes with it must go. 5.1 never have it made. My compulsion never goes away; it waits for me to become careless or cocky. 6. The OA program at its toughest is better than binging. Life at its dreariest or scariest is better than death by overeating.
I am continuing to discard more lies. I have the love of OA friends and my family in making this painful, joyous journey. I am grateful because I know that getting rid of deceptions makes me freer to see the ones that still blind me, still bind me.
*16/245/2*

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