Front of a Small Basement

¶ … front of a small basement room of a local church, the sign read, "Overeaters Anonymous 8PM." I was in the right place. Understanding the basic premise of the Twelve Step program before attending, I knew that in spite of the location of the meeting, Overeaters Anonymous tried almost desperately to distance itself from denominational religion. However, the group remains decidedly spiritual and some of the members at that night's meeting were overtly Christian and led the opening of the meeting with an optional "Lord's Prayer" after the more customary "Serenity Prayer." One of the members mentioned her being an atheist when she shared. "Sharing" is what the group calls it when one of the members feels like speaking about their personal experiences with food, emotions, or their reaction to the OA meeting. During a specified time during the meeting, the group leader asked any member who felt like it to share.

This meeting consisted of a fairly regimented format and was scheduled to last 90 minutes. During this time, the group leader (apparently chosen in advance) commenced the meeting with a reading from what can best be called the Overeaters Anonymous text book. The burgundy-colored book is similar to the "Blue Book" of Alcoholics Anonymous fame, only focused on the problem of eating disorders. I also believe that the OA meeting and its core text are lighter in tone than most AA meetings I have visited. As a counselor, I find it fascinating to watch the meetings unfold, to hear the stories that members share and also to note the differences between veteran and new members. Veteran members usually, though not always, exude confidence. They use the group's jargon as if it is their primary mode of discourse. I wonder if they say phrases like "It works if you work it" when they are outside "these rooms" as veteran members refer to OA meeting spaces.

The OA meeting space is established with the express purpose of creating a safe environment. Safety means complete anonymity as the Overeaters Anonymous moniker suggests. Members are discouraged from sharing too much about their personal lives, as well as being discouraged from sharing anything but their first name with other members. Yet as I looked around after the meeting closed, I wondered how many of the members did not socialize outside of the group. It seemed as if many of the members knew each other quite well and had formed strong friendships with each other beyond the boundaries of the church meeting hall.

Veteran members have more clout in the meeting, in terms of making a final decision on logistics issues or being in charge of contacting a venue director for a new meeting time or place. When sharing personal stories, I get the sense also that veteran members offer stock stories that they feel inspire newcomers. I don't think this is always the case, and I also do not believe that their stock stories are necessarily stilted. The stories they share remain real, and sharing them must help the veteran OA member to relive the pain of the days when addiction gripped their psyche. Moreover, being a veteran member naturally does mean they understand what new members need to hear, and what helps new members "keep coming back."

The jargon can be a bit unsettling to new ears. As a counselor who has studied sociology as well as psychology, the jargon struck me at first as being quite creepy. I won't go so far as to say that the meeting felt cultish and yet, the first time I ever attended a Twelve Step group meeting I did use the word cult to describe it. Sitting on this last OA meeting I think the jargon accomplishes several objectives. For one, using the slogans serves the same function as mantra. Repeating a phrase over and over also tends to solidify the semantics. "Keep coming back" echoes inside a person's head so that instead of blowing off an OA meeting, the person is likely to head over to the church straight from dinner. Then newcomer is especially likely to latch onto the phrases and associate health and healing with those words. After a while, the phrases become a way to solidify the relationship between the individual member and the group. Like the Twelve Steps themselves, the group jargon helps create the structured environment that makes the meeting place safe. Structure may be exactly what an addict, overeater, or anorexic person needs.

Bulimics and anorexics are well represented at this meeting. From my understanding, Overeaters Anonymous embraces those with any type of eating disorder. I appreciate the willingness of group members to understand that it is the addictive, compulsive nature of the behavior that is the problem and not the specific manifestation. Along this line of thought, one member of the group noted his addiction to drugs as well as to food. Crossover addictions are extraordinarily common. One member indicated being a former anorexic who starved herself regularly; that was ten years ago and now she can be considered overweight. Whether or not there is a proven "addictive personality," certainly there are people for whom any pattern of behavior can become a potential problem.

From a clinician's perspective, I appreciate the formula the Twelve Steps offer. The group provides a social network. This may be the most important function of the Twelve Step group; certainly it is one of the most important. Members come here and find they are not alone in their suffering. This knowledge alleviates the pain considerably. Sharing means caring. The newcomer to an Overeaters Anonymous meeting is told that when they are ready to commit to the program they shall also find a sponsor. The sponsor is a mentor, a more senior member (although not necessarily a veteran) who can guide a newcomer through the Twelve Steps. The sponsee is expected to phone the sponsor when trouble arises, such as the urge to binge eat.

Newcomers seem tentative at the meeting. They share but they ramble, not yet understanding the connection between their eating disorder, their emotions, and the Twelve Steps. Indeed, one of the hardest things to grasp about the Twelve Steps is their unabashed abstraction. They are steps, but they are not concentrate ones. Rather, they are psychological -- although many group members would say "spiritual" -- steps. The person first "admits powerlessness." Essentially, the first step is admitting one has a problem. By the time the person is willing to do something about the problem, the next major psychological hurdle is the spiritual one in Step Three.

The spiritual nature of the Twelve Step group is one that clinicians struggle with, as it raises ethical and practical issues with clients. How is a counselor supposed to encourage an atheist to attend a group meeting that is so overtly about spiritual matters? Thankfully, meetings like the one I attended temper the spiritual content of the Twelve Step group with language that secular humanists understand. Surrendering to a "higher power" is a psychological step. It marks a major shift in consciousness. No matter what a person believes about the creation of the universe, anyone suffering from an eating disorder knows pain and suffering first hand and can at the very least allow the emotional catharsis that comes from surrender. The group actually urges skeptical newcomers to "make the group your higher power." I appreciated this. This showed that the group was not a cult after all, but a genuine outlet for those who need help.