Two months into my new job, my boss sent out an email. He was organizing a dinner as part of the upcoming staff retreat and wanted suggestions from our department for good places to eat. At some point in the flurry of reply emails, I realized that the date in question, still months away, fell on a Tuesday night.
Tuesday night is my AWOL (A Way of Life), and this meeting, where we study the Twelve Steps, is a serious commitment for me. I realized it was time to talk with my boss about being in FA. I had already spoken with my sponsor about this issue, as my boss sometimes invites our team to go out and eat lunch together, and I have at times declined.
On one of these occasions, when I indicated that I couldn’t eat at a particular restaurant, my boss asked, “What will happen? Will you turn into a pumpkin?” I didn’t really answer his question. It didn’t seem appropriate to say what I was like before FA or what happens when I eat outside of my food plan. My weight used to fluctuate up and down repeatedly as a result of my binge eating. I have weighed 170 pounds, which is 40-45 pounds over my current weight. I turn into an insane person. I throw food into the garbage and later go back, take it out, and eat it. I eat far beyond what is normal, unable to stop, even when I am in pain from stuffing myself with food. My skin breaks out in an allergic reaction to the sugar and flour, and also from the stress I put on my body by forcing it to absorb abnormal quantities of food.
Overall, my boss is very supportive. He gives me a lot of encouragement and openly praises my work. My sponsor agreed that it made sense to tell him about FA, but I hadn’t found an opportune moment to do so. Well, here was that moment. I walked into my boss’s office, briefly talked to him about a couple of work-related items, and then walked out. In less than a minute, I had the sensation that my Higher Power was literally reaching out and turning me around. I returned to my boss’s office, sat down in the extra chair, and waited for him to give me his attention. He was working on the computer. After a moment, he turned to me.
“What do you know about alcoholism?” I asked him.
“Quite a bit,” he said.
From there we proceeded to have a discussion about addiction. He had lost a very good employee to heroin addiction. He also had a daughter who, in her teenage years, had been exposed to addiction.
I explained that in the same way that some people are addicted to alcohol and drugs, I am addicted to food. I told him that I work a rigorous Twelve-Step program that helps me with my problem, and that I attend three meetings a week. I told him the number of years I have been “clean and sober,” which is the term I generally use for people outside of FA, as they understand it better than the word “abstinent.”
He mentioned bulimia and anorexia, and I explained that I have a condition medically known as binge-eating disorder. I mentioned a government statistic. The National Institute of Health website states that about 3% of adults have binge-eating disorder. His face registered surprise. I don’t think he was aware of the commonness of the problem.
He asked me why I was telling him this. I mentioned that I have a meeting on Tuesday nights and the dinner he was planning fell on a Tuesday night. “Can we change it to another night?” I asked.
He shook his head and said that Tuesday was the night he was given by the conference organizers. Since hundreds of people are attending the staff retreat, I recognized that the date could not be adjusted.
“Where is your meeting?” my boss asked. I think he was trying to figure out a way for me to attend part of the Tuesday event.
“Marin” I said, which is a 45-60 minute drive from our office in downtown Oakland, California. For the second time, my boss’s face registered surprise. “Yup,” I said, “I drive that distance to Marin every Tuesday night.”
I sat quietly for a moment, not knowing what else to say.
My boss cocked his head and smiled at me. “Looks like you’re going to your meeting.”
I nodded. A part of me regretted not being able to attend the work event, which sounded like fun. At the same time, I knew that going to my committed meeting was exactly the right action to take. Without FA, I know that the pressures of my new job, which is filled with deadlines and expectations of high-level output, would send me straight to the vending machines or the corner store to get a sugar and flour fix. I want to keep my job. Therefore, I put my program, including committed meetings, ahead of work.
I walked away from my boss’s office feeling very supported in my abstinence. This incident was the latest in a long line of experiences when, in spite of my fear, I have revealed my addiction and the FA solution. Time after time, I have been met with kindness and support. Repeatedly, I am shown that as long as I maintain my integrity, am humble about the fact that I am a food addict, and consult my sponsor about discussions of this type, my Higher Power takes care of me. I am learning to trust that Higher Power, and the experience with my new boss reinforces that trust.