My earliest memories are those of constant turmoil. My mother was always screaming and nagging my dad and he would blow up and throw things. One time my dad got upset (probably from my mother’s nagging and screaming) and threw a bowl of cereal at her. Although I’ve blamed a lot on my mother over the years, I realize that my father shares the blame as well. His temper was horrible. I could hear him rattle off a chain of profanities from down in the basement. One time he got upset because our boat’s engine stalled, so he punched it and broke his hand. I figured his behavior was justified because he had to deal with my mother. My mother would take her frustrations out on me, yelling and getting more and more frustrated and angry when I wouldn’t answer…but I couldn’t answer. I had learned to shut down. I... Continue Reading
I recently had my first mammogram after having had a lumpectomy nine months ago. Needless to say, I was anxious. I brought my Kindle with me to read a sample of a few pages of a book that a friend recommended before I went to the library to borrow it. Although I prefer reading on my Kindle, I didn’t want to spend $12.99 to download the whole book when I could read the library copy for free. The mammography technician did the procedure (never pleasant!) and went to consult with the radiologist. She came back and said they had to take more “views” (euphemism for more torture) since the Dr. thought he saw something on the other side. Oh no! She took more pictures and went again to consult with the radiologist. While she was gone, I thought, “If this news is bad, I don’t care what anybody says, I’m... Continue Reading
I came into FA while I was in college. By that time, I had a long history of not having used my mind for anything but concentrating on looking good and deciding on the next meal to concoct. I was constantly obsessed with where to get food, how to make it, and how to get the most checked-out. One time I was so desperate to get food unstuck from the vending machine at school that I tried to tip it over from the top. I was so embarrassed! In my beginning years of college, I was intoxicated with sugar, flour, fat, fear, doubt, and insecurity. The only conversations I was interested in having with people were about the state of my body—how it was either growing or shrinking. I would talk about the latest diet I was on and how it was or wasn’t working. It was always all about... Continue Reading
Before I came into FA I weighed 230 pounds and was suffering from a daily feeling of depression, anxiety, and despondency. Every morning I woke up with a feeling of desperation and the desire to escape from life. I ate from the time the alarm went off in the morning until I crashed into bed, with hands still sticky from the snack on the bedside stand and my teeth not brushed. I couldn’t get from home to work without a snack, and I couldn’t get from work to home without unbuttoning my pants because I was squeezed so tightly into my size 16s and 18s. I ate when I was bored, busy, anxious, or happy. I thought that food was my cure-all, but it only made my problems worse. Eating addictively made me ill and zapped the life out of me, but I couldn’t stop. I always had a way to disconnect from my feelings.... Continue Reading
This was my eleventh Christmas in recovery and the first Christmas without my mom. Not that we had been terribly close, but over the last four years, she had become a bright spot in my life. Then one day she was found dead in her garden, and all I have now are memories. Our last phone conversation was full of love, mutual caring, and tolerance. We were really listening to each other. The last couple of times I had seen her, I had pocketed my pride and my childhood pain so I could show her the love and affection I had found through FA recovery. I made my amends to her, and whenever I visited, I stayed in close touch with FA, via my outreach calls. My mom became loving and caring and did not control me at all. What had happened? That was not the kind of dragon I... Continue Reading
