"I Almost Lost it all Because of Banana boats"


I only ate a banana boat because my friend pressured me to, but it soon turned into an obsession---the only way I could deal with stress and insecurity. My family and friends often told me I needed help, but all I wanted were more banana boats……


The Beginning

I was a good camper in elementary and junior high camps, the kind of kid counselors could count on to make the new girl feel welcome or hop in the morning.

I never thought I would have an addiction. I had never tried drugs, alcohol, or tobacco products and knew the hazards of becoming attached to a substance.

I didn’t even want to try a banana boat in the first place. They looked disgusting, and I don’t even like bananas. I was perfectly satisfied eating a cookie instead when we had banana boats for our evening snack around the campfire.

Things changed when I went to senior high camp for the first time. My friend Katelyn* always teased me when I refused banana boats. She’d call me a mini-camper or a baby and said that if I was a true camp bum I’d eat banana boats. At first I smiled and shrugged it off, joking with her, but by Wednesday I was feeling bad.

So I tried one. What could be wrong with having one little banana boat, I thought. I didn’t know the danger involved or how serious it was.

It was awful, the entire time I choked it down. I thought it was my first and last banana boat ever. I couldn’t believe that some people were addicted to them. They were so gross and bad for you.

Then we went on an all camp sleep out at the beach. Katelyn and I hung out with some guys, and someone got out the banana boat stuff. I shuddered at the sound of tin foil covering the banana filled with marshmallows and chocolate pieces. They passed it around and it finally got to me. I didn’t want to have any, but I wanted to impress the guys, so I ate one.

I found it easier and easier to just wrap up a banana and throw it in the fire pit during every snack time. Pretty soon, I was eating them as much as Katelyn and the guys.

When I went home I thought I would be fine. I was glad because there wouldn’t be any pressure to eat banana boats there. I thought I would be okay.

More Trouble

I was okay for a while. Then, when I started having camp withdrawal, my cravings for banana boats came back. I felt I needed one just to make myself stop missing camp. I thought about how it would be a whole year before I’d go to camp and have campfire snacks again, and that scared me a lot.

One day I was looking for a garbage bag for a school project in my mom’s drawer under the sink and I found some tin foil. I knew we had some chocolate in the junk food cabinet and bananas in the fridge. We didn’t have any marshmallows though, so I dismissed the thought of maybe having a quick banana boat.

Then my brother had his eighth birthday party, and my mom got marshmallows for snacks. I found them on the table, and knew what I had to do. I sliced a banana, put the chocolate and marshmallows in, and wrapped it with tin foil. I threw it in the microwave.

I felt calm and relaxed after eating the banana boat, like I could deal with anything.

Soon it became a regular part of my day to come home from school and pop a banana boat in the microwave.

But soon I needed more. The banana boats I made in the microwave were okay, but not like the ones roasted in the fire. I began to fantasize about having a real banana boat. It consumed my mind all the time.

I stopped paying attention in school and lost interest in the basketball team I played on. All that mattered to me was having a real banana boat roasted over a campfire.

Then one day my parents went to a conference for work, and left me home alone in charge of my little brother. He went next door to his friend’s house, so I was by myself. I was depressed over my D in math and wanted a banana boat. I called Katelyn, even though it was long distance, and I’m not allowed to call long distance numbers without asking my mom first.

Katelyn told me that if I started a fire I could have a real banana boat. Any fire would do as long as it was roaring. I gathered some sticks together and put them in a pile in my backyard. Then I got my dad’s cigarette lighter and started one of the sticks on fire. I got a fire going pretty well and got the stuff for my banana boat. I threw it in the fire and felt really good. I thought that if I could only have one banana boat I would be okay.

After I ate my snack, everything was okay. For a while. About a week later, I started craving them again. In the middle of English class I asked to be excused to go to the bathroom. Instead, I went outside and started a fire and made a banana boat. The principal caught me and called my parents. I ended up getting suspended for three days.

My mom was mad. She said she couldn’t believe that I would do something like that. I just wanted more banana boats.

Getting Help

My parents brought me to a support group called BBA, Banana Boats Anonymous. I thought the group was for crazy people with big problems. I didn’t think I had a problem. I thought I could quit whenever I wanted.

Banana Boats Anonymous taught me that I was wrong. I indeed did have a problem with banana boats, and I had to confront that.

My sponsor was a guy named Eric*. He had been a counselor ten years ago and ended up a banana boat addict himself. He hadn’t had a banana boat for six years and four months. It was quite an accomplishment for him. I felt like I would never get to that point. It seemed too far off. But Eric assured me that I could do it if I wanted to. Gradually, I began to give up banana boats.

My first big challenge came when I got to camp the next summer. I hadn’t had a banana boat for three months, and I was at a critical stage. I knew that it would be very easy to have one and that I would have to be very firm in my decision to stay clean from them.

I made it until Friday, the last day. Everyone was sad because we were going home the next day. Katelyn and I sat crying on a bench together, and she suggested having a banana boat. I said yes.

When I got home I tried to pretend that it hadn’t happened. I told everyone at BBA that I had stayed clean the whole week. But about a month later, I admitted to Eric that I had slipped. He said that it was okay, and that I could start over. I still felt very ashamed of myself and angry.

I tried very hard to stay away from banana boats after that. With help from Eric and my family I stopped. I haven’t had a banana boat for almost two years now, and I don’t plan to. I go to BBA every Monday night, and that helps a lot.

It’s hard going to camp, because banana boats are very tempting, and I know I can slip up at any moment. But I am trying hard.

If you have a problem with banana boats, you need help. You can go to your local BBA or call this number: 1-800-BBA-HELP.

I know it seems hard now, but when you kick the habit you will thank yourself.

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