One year and 140 pounds ago, at age 36, I entered the rooms of FA. For 24 years, I had racked my brain for every conceivable “plan” to lose weight. Generally, plans were hashed out during what I swore would be my final binge. In the beginning of recovery, and out of the food fog, I realized that all my prior plans were “output” focused—based on how much time, money, and effort I would give to be a normal-size person. It never occurred to me that “input” was the solution. For years, I budgeted $11 a week for a well-known diet program, but failed to realize that the additional $10 for the fast food run after each meeting was undermining my efforts. I diligently scheduled an hour of exercising, only to come home and choose four hours of snacking and television instead. I bought a $100 treadmill that quickly became... Continue Reading
My first Food Addicts in Recovery meetings were a rude awakening for me. There was so much to do! How was I going to be able to follow the program and live my life, too? There were so many suggestions: plan meals in advance, don’t eat between meals, go to meetings, make daily phone calls, spend time daily with my Higher Power, etc. Like most food addicts, I was used to making my own rules. I knew what worked for me. I didn’t need someone telling me what to do. So I questioned everything. Looking back to my first 90 days, I recognize that my so-called need to be in charge of myself was an illusion. If I was so in control of myself, why was I so fat? I knew how to lose weight—I had done it many times over the years! What FA brought to the table was... Continue Reading
I was out of control! I binged to soothe my hurt feelings and I binged to celebrate the good stuff. Nothing ever completely satisfied me, so even my celebrations ended in frustration. I came into Program when I was 42 years old. I weighed 271 pounds and had tantrums. I would keep my cool as best as I could in public and in my job. But, the ones I loved the most—my husband and my three precious boys, were the ones who heard the screaming fits, and saw the emotional, all-over-the place tantrums. Now four years later, I hope they are seeing and experiencing a different wife and a different mother, one who wears the weight of the world like a loose garment and not one who melts down like a two-year old. I hope they see what I feel—someone who is in recovery, on a beautiful journey with... Continue Reading
When I was a kid, Halloween was one of the greatest opportunities for a binge. My mother always got Halloween treats, to hand out to children in the neighborhood, that nobody in my family particularly liked so that my sisters and I would not binge on our own stash. Every year, she put the candy in the same huge brown wooden salad bowl (I can still picture it). And every year, I remember eating all of the candy I collected in a pillowcase after walking around the neighborhood for hours on end. Immediately upon arriving home, I would start with my favorites, and then eventually resort to the things I did not like but couldn’t help eating. After that, I always headed for the treats that were left over in the bottom of the salad bowl. I still remember the nauseated, stuffed feeling I had every year, and the bafflement... Continue Reading
I have always enjoyed being active. I played softball in my 20s and soccer in my 30s, but as my weight increased, my physical exercise was reduced to bike riding, and then walking. I enjoyed walking with my friend every morning at 5:15 a.m., rain or shine, sleet or snow, until one day it stopped! She and her family moved out of the city and built a home in the country. Every morning I told myself I would wake up tomorrow and walk or do something, but I just couldn’t do it by myself. I was 44 years old with a husband and two daughters. I’m grateful to have worked in the same company for 31 years, where I enjoyed the freedom in sales to leave the office as needed. But one day that stopped too. The slow economy had taken its toll in our town, and our company was... Continue Reading
