Before finding my way to FA, my life was more than just unmanageable; it was complete chaos. Unfortunately, I was the only person at fault for that chaos, but I would have never admitted that at the time. I firmly credit six years of daily abstinence to the clear vision I have of my past and my future. I spent nearly all of my spare time in adolescence and early adulthood obsessing about my body image and the food I was consuming. I was so desperate to be thin and happy—I truly believed that I could not have one without the other. If I could only achieve being thin, than the happiness would be a guaranteed result. So why couldn’t I just put the fork down? I spent hundreds of dollars and countless hours on this obsession. One minute I was “on the wagon” and dieting with the best of... Continue Reading
I was in FA over two years before I attended my first Foods Addicts in Recovery (FA) annual business convention in Boston. In the first year, I was too foggy to even know what an FA convention is for. I already belonged to many 12-Step programs and this additional FA service stuff was not for me! In the second year, I was abstinent for about a year but still struggling with many things, fighting on different fronts. I had not saved the money to attend convention and had other financial priorities that I was obsessing over. As my sponsor was not keen on me going, the second convention also came and went. In my third year in program, FA became my only program; my honesty, commitment, and focus became much more single-tracked and I started speaking to my sponsor about the need to prepare for going to the next convention.... Continue Reading
After 90 days of abstinence, I felt generally neutral around the food. It only called to me when I was hungry (more than six hours between meals), angry (resentful), lonely (needing to make phone calls and connect with FA members), or tired (needing to rest). H.A.L.T.—Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. One day I found myself in the frozen food aisle of the supermarket. I began noticing new flavors and new concoctions of desserts. It was an uncomfortable feeling. My higher power influenced me to grab my cell phone and call an FA friend. The friend said, “Remember, that flour and sugar are poison.” I asked her what she meant by that. She answered, “That particular food is poison and will kill you eventually. Get away from it.” I did leave the aisle and did get over it. I never heard the food called poison, but later in the week, when reading... Continue Reading
I could hear myself lumber across the room. I felt huge! I did not like the idea that when I went to my clothes closet, chances were that nothing would fit. Slacks wouldn’t zip and tops were, shall we say, “snug?” No, make that tight. My arms were floppy and my eyes were nearly disappearing into my fleshy face. I want to remember what it was like so that I can come back to it again and again if need be, to put me back on track. I was 59 years old and 5’ 3.” I was my heaviest weight ever at 175 pounds. I was probably a size 14, but I still kept squeezing into my 10s, barely. I am a food addict. I had been thin-ish till I was about eight years old, when the extra weight seemed to appear. I remember my mom taking me to the... Continue Reading
I depended on my thumb for comfort until I was in fourth grade. My mother says I was a picky eater, always needing special textures, and that I favored only certain foods. The vision when I looked into the mirror was that I was heavy and cumbersome. If I sat down on a chair and my skin folded a certain way, I would get angry and anxious. I was a self-declared “fatso” at five. I was an active, athletic child, so although my physical body was a normal size, my perception was deeply skewed. I wore big sweatshirts and baggy pants. I bought dresses that were three sizes larger than I was, and I wore men‘s T-shirts to cover up my body when I wore swimsuits. I would go to sleep and check to see where my bones were and how far they stuck out, and unless they were protruding... Continue Reading
