Twelve-Step Submission

In Episode 18 of DISIRabilityALT, we are talking about Twelve-step recovery and submission in a power exchange dynamic. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that these two separate worlds of mine, 12 step programs and M/s were really not all that different. They both have helped me to become a better person. They both helped me to become, not necessarily religious but spiritual. They both teach me about humility, obedience and service. They both teach me about power and powerlessness. My Higher Power that I chose today, is a nurturing, Loving God, not a punishing, judgement God. My Sir is a loving, nurturing Master. As I humble myself in service, to my Higher Power, and to my Sir, my anxiety and fears are removed on a daily basis.

Episode Cover Description [DISIRability logo in green with a wheelchair symbol in place of the letter b. “ALT” written in black underneath. In a yellow background, there is the following text ”12-Step Submission, with Angela Car (she/her) 18+). On the right, there is a stock photo of a staircase with yellow steps and wooden railing.]

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©DISIRability, Angela Car 2020

A Queer, Disabled Compulsive Overeater

My name is Angela and I am a compulsive overeater and food addict. I recently shared this speech at the Overeaters Anonymous Unity Day Workshop. Overeaters Anonymous is a twelve-step program similar to AA or NA. The only difference is the substance we are addicted to is food. According to Tradition 3, OA welcomes anyone who has the desire to stop eating compulsively. No matter how different we may be in other ways, we all identify as compulsive overeaters. Whenever I hear someone share their story in OA, no matter who they are or what they look like, I can always relate.

As tradition 3 states, we welcome everyone. No matter your race or ethnicity. No matter your sexuality. No matter your gender; and no matter your ability (or disability).  Now I personally cannot speak on the topic of race. I can only listen to people of color who share their story.

I can share on two other identities that I have. I identify as queer and I identify as disabled. Now, you may ask, what does that have to do with my compulsive overeating? I spent a lot of time wearing different masks in my life. I was this person at work, this person with my family, this person with strangers. I hid who I really was, and I couldn’t stop eating. It took many years in program, time in and out of relapse, to finally come to accept who I am and share who I am with the world.

Before program, I wore the mask of a heterosexual woman. I was actually a closeted bisexual.  I was married to a man by the time I realized that I was bisexual and I was struggling because I was finding myself attracted to women. I carried a lot of shame around this. My husband and I went to couples counseling and I started individual counseling as well. We stayed married until he passed away about 20 years later. At an OA retreat 10 years ago, I was in a workshop on sexuality. At this retreat, I finally felt comfortable enough to “come out” and share who I was.   This room full of OA’ers showed me love and acceptance. I want to continue to share that love with newcomers coming into program today.      

Now even today, I appear as a cishet or straight woman and I recognize there is some privilege in that. I was biological born female and I identify as female. I am also in a relationship with a man. So, people will assume I am cishet and because of that, I am not bullied or harassed walking down the street because of my Queer identity as many other people are. Also, some people will assume that its ok to make anti-gay jokes or comments around me. Since I have come out and since I have found recovery, I am more likely to try to educate people that those comments are offensive rather than keeping silent. When I came out to my family, they didn’t quite understand my identity and some of them still don’t, but for me it was important that they saw this part of my identity and understand that just because I am with a male partner, doesn’t mean that I am no longer Queer. When I educate, I like to tell people not to make any assumptions about what someone’s gender or sexual orientation is, but instead to use gender neutral language and to ask someone what their pronouns are.

Even for me, it takes some time and practice using gender neutral terms. I am in my mid-40s, and I feel like people in their 20s and 30s are much more comfortable with some newer language and pronouns than I am. I have accidentally misgendered people out of 40 years of habit. But I am willing to listen and willing to learn. If I do make a mistake and misgender someone, I apologize, and I work on correcting my language.

Now, in terms of my disability, in the past I wore the mask of a sweet helpless little girl. The reality was, I was carrying a lot of anger. This was not anger about my disability. I was never angry at God because I couldn’t run or because I needed crutches. I was born with a disability, so this has always been my reality. Having a disability is just part of who I am. It is not a misfortune. It is my identity. For me, it is just like having brown hair or needing glasses.  

What I was angry about was how people treated me differently because of my disability. My family and close friends never treated me different. It is usually strangers and acquaintances who don’t know me well. I recognize many people aren’t used to being around someone like me who using crutches, (or seeing someone using a wheelchair out and about), so they may feel uncomfortable. They often talk to me as if I am a child. I can’t tell you how many times I have been patted on the head or how many times I have been prayed for by strangers. Complete strangers who see me walking slowly with my crutches and praying for me has actually harmed my spiritual life. I always knew I had a disability that wasn’t ever going to go away, and I had symptoms that would get worse over time with age, and I have accepted that. I didn’t want to be around people who were going to be “praying for” me for some type of miracle. Those messages made me angry. I also don’t like hearing that I am “inspirational” or “so brave”, just for getting out of bed in the morning and living my life. Now, if you want to tell me I wrote a great article, go ahead. That would be awesome. But just for going outside? No. Saying things like that is very patronizing.

What did I do with that anger? I never showed people that I was angry. I kept a fake smile on my face while my blood was boiling, and then I went home to my refrigerator. I took that anger out on myself by eating compulsively. I couldn’t take it out on person who said it because they didn’t know any better. They didn’t know that their behavior was offensive.  In the past, when people would overstep my boundaries, I would say to myself, “well, they mean well” and I let them overstep.

Today, I am in recovery. While I still will not outwardly express my angry at someone when they say something inappropriate, I am learning to be more assertive. I will ask for help when I need it. If someone offers to help me, and I don’t need the help. I will say “no thank you” and I will continue doing what I am doing independently. It is actually very important for me to continue to be as independent as possible.

I know that my OA recovery has saved my life. I also know that there are many more people like me who need OA. The opinions I express here are my own. I cannot speak for all LGBTQ+ folks, all people with disabilities, or all compulsive overeaters. I can only share my own perspective and share my personal truth. Thank you for reading and allowing me to share.


Addiction is hell. No matter the substance

Editing Note 2019: I wrote this piece when I was active in my addiction. In reviewing step one, I need to “keep it green” by remembering where I was in my relapse just over a year ago. I apologize for the language in advance, it is ugly, but it is honest. I am grateful I am no longer in this dark place. Today I have found freedom in working the steps. Just for today!

Being in my addiction is hell.

I get frustrated and my mind tells me I need it.

I am happy and want to use it to celebrate.

I don’t want to feel anything so I use it to numb myself.

I don’t want to freak out, so I pick up instead. It calms me down.

I am afraid to stop because I will miss it.

It is my friend or so it fools me into thinking it is. It is what I have always used to cope with life.

I focus on the differences between my addiction and others. I tell myself I won’t kill anyone in my addiction. I can drive without my judgement being impaired. So I tell myself I am ok. I tell myself my addiction is not as serious as others…that I can handle it. Just one more and I will stop tomorrow.

It is all a lie. I am no better than anyone. Tomorrow keeps getting pushed back and it never comes.

I know I will kill myself one day if I stay in my addiction. This addiction is already slowly killing me one day at a time.

It starts by killing my spirit, leaving me in depression, leaving me sneaking around and lying to those I love. It leads me to spending money and ending up in financial ruin. It leads me to anger and resentment when well-meaning friends ask me about it. It leads me to thoughts of suicide.

It kills my motivation. It leaves me too tired to care for myself or to care for my house. It takes too much energy to take a shower and to get dressed. It leaves me denying the reality that soon I may not be able to get dressed independently. It leaves me living in a mess…dirty clothes on the floor and dishes in the sink. It leaves me feeling apathetic.

It increases my health problems and adds on more. Sleep apnea. Weight gain. Back pain. Inability to exercise or even to walk some days. Feeling tired every day from doing nothing. I lose my ability to dance. I will soon lose my ability to walk. Yet the denial creeps back in telling me that I am just fine. Other addicts know what F.I.N.E. stands for. Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional.

Addiction sucks no matter the substance. If I am not working on my recovery, then I am sliding back into my addiction. Your substance may be heroin, alcohol, sex, gambling. My substance is food. It may sound funny but it is no joke. I need to fight it before it kills me.

I have been battling this disease for years with the help of my support groups and my therapist. I can never forget where I started. I need to remember the hell rather than slip back into denial. The best way to do that is to share it. I am a fighter and I am in the fight of my life.

To follow my blogs and posts, follow the hashtag #DISirABILITY

My professional background

I am Angela Car, a sexual health educator and advocate for people with disabilities. I am 44 years old and I was born with Spina Bifida. I have a M.A. degree in Criminal Justice and a B.A. degree in Psychology.

In graduate school, I became interested in working with people with disabilities who were either victims of crimes or alleged offenders. I worked as a graduate assistant doing research and I found there was a huge need to support people with disabilities involved in the criminal justice system.

Although there was a huge need, I could not find full time employment specifically in criminal justice and disability. So over the past 15 years I gained experience in a few different areas; from providing substance abuse prevention education for people with disabilities, advocating for access to housing and education, to counseling incarcerated women with mental health issues and addictions.

I became a Pure Romance consultant and received additional training in sex education. I realized that while I am not a great salesperson, I have a passion for educating people. So I no longer sell products. I am grateful for my experience as a Pure Romance consultant because it reminded me of what I am passionate about and gave me confidence to go after my goals.

My focus now is on education, advocacy and sharing my story to help other people. I created #DISIRability to start this important discussion of sexual health and sex positivity for people with disabilities. As people with disabilities, we have the same basic needs as everyone else. We desire intimacy and connection. We are desirable.

I have now been providing sexual health education and sharing my personal story for the past two years at local disability agencies and sexual health forums online and in person. I hope you will take the time to read my blogs. Most of them are about sexual health and disabilities. Others are on different topics I share about my life, such as family relationships and addictions. I look forward to connecting with you.