That time I went to a meeting for food addicts.

On my unhealthy relationship with food, especially during prolonged depressive episodes.

“Food Addicts Anonymous? Like AA? “

Yep.

A couple of years before the pandemic, I went to my first meeting. After the group introductions and readings from scripture-based pamphlets, I was convinced that I did not need to be there. I was also shocked at the amount of thin-bodied people in attendance. My preconceived notions about what a meeting with people who struggled with food like I do would look like had me convinced that I’d see a room full of larger bodies—not thinking about the many ways disordered eating can present itself just like any other illness.

A picture I captured in August before I binged cake and ice cream all evening to cope with being turned down for a position after six rounds of interviews that included about four hours of assignment work as well.

It was not long before I felt uncomfortable, disengaged, and like I was being initiated into a cult, resulting in me wanting to leave about ten minutes in. Especially because they kept mentioning God. At that time I was angry with who I believed God to be. Bitter and jaded because all my life I was taught He would never forsake me and there I was feeling very much so forsaken and not sure if I had any faith left in Him remembering me and my growing grocery list of struggles, no pun intended. But, my eating had gotten out of control; I packed on both happy-new-relationship weight and also I-just-binged-enough-to-feed-a-small-village-because-I’m-sad-af weight and I could not lie to myself any longer and pretend that I could fix my unhealthy relationship with food on my own this time.