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
Twelve years ago, when I came into Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous, I lived only for food binges. Food was all that I could think of: how to get it, how to be alone with it, and how to eat as much as I wanted without paying any of the consequences. And the consequences were many. I felt isolated from all of the good things that life had to offer. I was physically and psychologically addicted to flour, sugar, fat, and huge quantities of food. I ate until I was so full that it was difficult for my lungs to expand, and it hurt to breathe. For me, those foods substances and the enormous quantities that I consumed were mood-altering drugs, and they fueled suicidal depression. I felt drugged up and sluggish after overeating and had to sleep it off. Many times after a binge, when my stomach was aching,... Continue Reading
My mother died a few days before her ninety-second birthday, when I was less than six months in FA. Even though my mom had pneumonia for many days and had been immobilized by a fractured pelvis for months, the grief that I felt when I got the phone call was overwhelming and profound. I did my first things first and called my children, and then proceeded to get my plane reservations and start to pack. It was about 11 p.m. While I was on the phone talking to the airline, a feeling of intense hunger crept up my body and started to take hold. I had the urge to go to the cupboards and tear open boxes of food and stuff my mouth with whatever I could find. Then I remembered, “Don’t eat, don’t eat, whatever you do, don’t eat.” I said it over and over again. For added insurance... 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
In my early days of recovery, I heard the saying “suit up and show up.” I didn’t quite understand what it meant. I was extremely capable, hard-working, and compassionate. I always showed up and I was always available to help, always there if you needed a shoulder to cry on, always there if you were short on cash. I was always available to everyone! I prided myself on being a great employee and friend, and I didn’t think I needed to learn anything from this slogan. As I began to emerge from my flour, sugar, and fast-food fog, and the pounds started to drop off my 207-pound body, I started to see things differently. I was showing up alright, if you consider showing up to mean that I was overwhelmed, overworked, overcommitted, distracted, and crazy; then, yes, I showed up. So, I realized that I had a lot to learn... Continue Reading