Compulsive Eaters, A Question

I have a question.

Through AA, I've sponsored many alcoholics, taking them through the process of the Twelve Steps but haven't really attended OA meetings or gotten into food abstinence.

An OA member, Jean, recently asked me to help her through the Twelve Steps, and she does practice abstinence, refraining from sugar, white flour, etc.

I'm kind of on the fence about the "allergy" to these foods. Yes, there were times in my life where one bagel lead to 12, a slice of pizza became a pie and there wasn't any amount of cake that would or could ever satisfy me. Yet, that's not the case now. I can eat moderate amounts of whatever I want and what I want these days is a lot healthier then i ever craved in the days of compulsive eating, anorexia and bulimia.

As I go through the Twelve Steps with Jean, I honor the path she's chosen (she commits her food/abstinence plan to a Food Sponsor), but i wonder if i truly get behind the concept.

Jean misses the foods she denies herself, and has ended up binging on them after a solid period of not indulging. In my own life, deprivation ALWAYS lead to binging.

What do you guys think?

Lonely

I’m not sure what happened, but I’m feeling just so alone. And lonely.

I’m someone who exquisitely enjoys spending time by myself – reading books, browsing bookstores, readingin the bath tub, reading newspapers (see a pattern?) I CHERISH this time and never feel complete if I don’t have enough space to myself.

But lately, I find I’m spending big chunks of time on my own and feeling sad. I live in New Jersey - my best friends live in Manhattan and Queens and my family’s in Pittsburgh. Everyone seems married or paired off or busy with kids.

I signed up for a class, but it was canceled. I know I need to get out and be around people. Sometimes, I go to bars and hang-out because that’s what I used to do. But now I’m 48 and by myself, and it just seems sorta – pathetic.

I’m looking for a part-time job and therein lies another problem – money’s an issue and with too much time on my hands and by myself, I worry, worry, worry.
It’s not that I’m truly miserable or in a terrible space. Mostly, there’s confusion. I used to have friends and make them easily. I haven’t changed – I’m still friendly and love to laugh.

This all sounds gloomy, and it’s not all that bad. I see where I’m so lucky – to have a job and best friends, even if they live a bit away. I’m no longer anorexic and bulimic, nor do I drink or do drugs.

Now, I need to learn how to fly