Cookies at Recovery

Cookies at Recovery

Who knew cookies could be ironic? I walked into my church recovery group tonight and there were red velvet cookies on the food table as well as other delectable temptations. I had gone back even though I tried to quit more than a month ago and every week I have sat there miserable. I have lost hope and faith. Hope that I could be healed and faith in the “Freedom Sessions” program.

Cookies speak to me louder than the pastor doing the teaching of the twelve step program. I hear them over the drone of his voice trying to convict me not to “use” anymore. His reasoning is lost amid the thoughts of cream cheese icing on cupcakes. The cakes and doughnuts and cheese and crackers and chips and dips have a stronger pull on my soul than the enticement to be “sober”. They are there week after week, waiting for me. The drug addicts, alcoholics, sex addicts and abuse victims seem immune to them. I however am captivated by their obvious charms. Blinded by them, dazzled, hypnotized. Their allure knows no end.

For me, they were the final straw. Cookies at recovery for bulimia? Ironic but deadly.

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6 thoughts on “Cookies at Recovery

  1. haridasgowra says:

    wow wat a cookie…..so tasty..wat a color thick red want to try this……..#wordpress!

  2. littlevoicetalks says:

    Was there gin and tonic to drink and a plate of powder laid out too?? And what about some female and male prostitutes for the sex addicts. I bet that was torture. Hope your are keeping well under the circumstances. Love love x

  3. That is ironic. I am not sure non-bulimics really understand how overwhelming the power of food is for a bulimic. Keep your head up – their ignorance (however innocent it is) doesn’t need to hold you back πŸ™‚

  4. That sounds so dreadful. I am sorry. People who do not struggle with eating disorders just do not think about such things usually.

  5. I have so been there.
    Also, on Monday am starting an intensive outpatient program and I have to eat there and I am FREAKING OUT about it. If they even try to make me eat desert, I might just punch someone.

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