I felt abandoned and frightened when my brother was born. When I was growing up, plotting ways to hurt him fueled my whole being. After all, he took mother’s attention away from me. I would start fights with him, and my mother would intervene and give out flour and sugar products to calm us down. This pattern set up many unconscious coping behaviors in my mind. What does this have to do with my current relationship with food? Everything!
During one of my AWOLs (a way we study and live the Twelve Steps in recovery), I found out that my overeating and mental obsession with food had deep roots in the feelings of resentment toward being abandoned emotionally by my mother. I unknowingly took it out on my brother for years.
When I was little, I knew where mother kept the junk food for herself and the babysitters. I would get a chair and find the bags, open them, eat from them, and look for my brother so I could pull his hair or pinch the back of his upper arm. He would cry, and mother would say, “Be quiet, can’t you see how I am trying to clean the house? Now what did you do to hurt your brother?” My resentment was fueled further as I called myself “bad girl” and “bad person” for hurting my brother. Biting my nails, I watched as mother soothed him.
Growing up, he became bigger than me, so my anger channeled into sarcasm.
Glaring looks and cutting words replaced physical abuse. Mother would still yell at me, but I would feel relief that she paid attention to me, even though it was negative attention. I hated them both, but I hated myself most of all.
One of my main behaviors in relationships was to shut down and numb out by eating flour and sugar throughout the day. I ate sugar to make me happy, and flour to allow me to slow down. They were my gas and brake pedals in life. I ate myself up to 60 pounds more than my frame was meant to handle.
When I came into FA four-and-a-half years ago, I began to change my thinking and actions as I learned and studied the Twelve Steps. Slowly I experienced a personality change. I found my Higher Power, who taught me how to heal. The coaching and support from my sponsor, kindness from my fellow FA members, and the calm in meetings added to my progress. As I tapped into this Power greater than myself, the wounds of abandonment started to close. I added to this healing by choosing abstinence, one meal at a time, day after day.
As I was recovering from my hateful habits, I had a chance to practice the Ninth Step, and make amends to my brother. My mother recently became very sick with pneumonia, and at 83 years old, it took a big toll on her body. My brother and I took turns at the hospital sitting and talking with her. We brought in her personal items and kept her apartment clean during her hospitalization. We did all these actions with strained tolerance, and with our usual six-foot distance from each other. I practiced kindness and calmness during this stressful event. When my brother took mother to the bathroom, I told him how I appreciated his help and presence.
We brought her back to her home and I began to wash her dishes. I sensed someone very near to me. I turned to see my brother with tears streaming down his face as he held the palms of his hands to the temples of his head. My heart became even softer, and I asked if I could give him a hug. He nodded, and I felt my brother release into my arms.
Later my brother told my mother that he had never seen this kind side of me. He felt safe to cry and was surprised by my actions. My mother was pleased that we were now getting along.
My Higher Power, FA, and the Twelve Steps have healed some of those deep wounds of hate. Putting food in its proper place, one day at a time, gave me back relationships with my brother, my mother, and myself.