A Story of Recovery:
Besides Being Fat, I Had Another Problem; I Could Not Live LIfe
At my first FA meeting I saw 50 people in the room who were living life in normal-sized bodies. They were showing up for difficult life situations without running away and hiding in food. I knew I was in the right place, because besides being fat, I had another problem; I could not live life. I wanted life to go away and let me hide. I was 25-years-old and had a very tiny, lonely life. At a size 18 and very naïve, I came into this recovery program and even before losing weight, I became hungry to live life and be a grown up. I lost 40 pounds in three months (five dress sizes) and was at goal weight very quickly.
I then began learning how to live like a real person; it was a long process. I learned how to make conversation at the FA meeting breaks, how to go to the movies with FA fellows, how to be a friend, and how to work through difficult situations, without running to food. I was surrounded by an amazing fellowship of people who had gone before me in this recovery. I watched them, listened, and learned. Always, they modeled growth and an attitude of gratitude. They demonstrated how a person could change by doing service. I never want to go back to the person I used to be, which is what is waiting for me (I have no doubt), if I stop working hard for my recovery.
After several years in recovery and a couple of years of marriage, my family moved to an isolated area, away from the possibility of participating in the in-person intergroup service I was used to. I lived for several years in an area with a tiny FA community. My service had to be done on the meeting level, through phone calls, and by working on committees that met by teleconference and then convened at the annual World Service Business Convention in Boston each June.
The annual trek to the convention has been tough. I have had to leave my small children with my husband or grandparents, hear about sick kids while I was away, miss end-of- year school performances, incur the travel expenses, and patch childcare options together. But the experience has always been extremely rewarding. I have been able to spend two whole days with fellows who are serious about their recovery, who work hard to ensure that this fellowship survives and thrives to help others, and who are excited to give and give. I am a benefactor of all their work. Every year I have come home exhausted, but “fed.” It’s been a dose of medicine that has seen me through the year when times get tough. The experience has been encouraging, hopeful, and fulfilling.
Over the past several years our family has experienced some extra family stress and financial difficulties. It has been a long road of ups and downs, and my serenity has been sorely tried many times. I have attempted, every day and in every situation, to practice the abstinence, gratitude, and service that has always been modeled for me. Those fellows at the business conventions have been my models.
Last year, we finally sold our family business, and my husband accepted a job that required a move to another state. It was a very hopeful time, but it is expensive to move, and when we moved across the country for that job, our financial resources were stretched even tighter.
Right after moving and arrival of Christmas bills, notice came from World Service Office that it was time to sign up for the next annual convention. Yikes! For the first time, I considered not going. After all, I thought, I just moved from a tiny fellowship to a larger one, with a meeting available almost every day. That should give me all the medicine I need, shouldn’t it? And I rationalized that Boston is farther away from us than it used to be. I wasn’t thinking that Texas to Massachusetts is not nearly as far as the trip some FA members make, or that moving is up there on the list of major life stressors, and I might need my annual time with fellows who have known me for years. And, I reasoned, maybe it’s irresponsible to spend the money right now. Aren’t we supposed to be responsible? I thought that last one was the clincher. I didn’t mention this way of thinking to my sponsor, but I pulled it out to use on my husband to get his backing before I consulted with my sponsor.
The rest of the story is very short. I told my husband I thought it was financially too risky and irresponsible to go to the convention this year. My husband looked at me and said, “It’s too risky not to go.” God bless my husband. He was so right on. It was too risky to isolate and not take my medicine. I saw things in the right perspective immediately and was ready to go.
God took care of the finances and the childcare very simply. The kids (who are older now) and their daddy had an awesome time together. And I was able to get my medicine from the spiritual thing that happens when people who love this recovery gather together.