The title of an Emily Dickinson poem, “Tell it Slant,” is an apt description of what led to my break—I told the truth, but I told it slant. After being in FA for over 10 years, I had a break. When asked by fellows what happened or how it started, I had to swallow my pride and say, “it started five years ago” (at least). It was five years ago that I had an incident that was “slippery” with food. When I told my sponsor about it, which I did promptly, I told her the truth, but I told it slant. I put a twist on what had happened to make it seem palatable and not a break. I quickly got back on track and went on my way abstinently until once again an incident with food surfaced where I told the truth, but told it slant, to make it... Continue Reading
In my young life, I was the one who was seen as the problem. If I was uncomfortable, I spoke up. My family did not want to hear it. I turned to the food for the comfort and nurturing that was absent at home. If I was afraid of getting my share, I complained, and did so loudly. When I wanted more, I spoke up. If I didn’t get what I wanted by asking, I found another way to get it. One time, as a teenager, my family overheard me talking in my sleep, saying “I want extra!” At the time, it was a big joke to them, but a humiliation to me. Now I know that I was a food addict then, just as much as I am now. I had no idea when enough was enough. This was true with the food, but also with anything else that... Continue Reading
This disease, gosh! I have been abstinent just over four years now and I was completely caught off guard and truly humbled by the most powerful flare up of my disease I have had to date. I came into program at the age of 22 having spent about 10 years fighting my weight, dieting and gaining the same 10-15 pounds over and over. I could never figure out what was wrong with me that I couldn’t just put food on my plate and “eat it like a normal person”. I always wanted to eat the way we do in FA, but I was terrified it would make me fat, since I wasn’t used to eating normal quantities of healthy food at a time. Instead, I would restrict my food all week, binge on the weekends when no one was looking use laxatives, abuse colonics, drink copious amounts of diet soda... Continue Reading
The hardest thing about the first 90 days in FA was every single part of it – the readings, the phone calls, the agonizing stretch of time between breakfast and lunch. I would have never suffered through those indignities had it not been a matter of life and death for me. It was. The week before I came into FA, I was prepared to end my life by jumping off a bridge onto a 4-lane highway. I figured if the fall didn’t kill me, the fast moving traffic would take care of the rest. Every day while commuting over the bridge, I pictured the scenario in my mind. I imagined climbing over the railing, feeling the wind shake my balance, summoning the courage to lean forward and let go. I felt a rush of relief each time I ran through the fantasy. I never once considered the damage a 130-pound falling body... Continue Reading
My FA journey started when I was living in a small fly-in Inuit community in Nunavut called Arctic Bay, which is located on the most northerly tip of Baffin Island. I had just returned back from my home in Edmonton, Alberta, where I had met with my family doctor. I told her I thought that I had arthritis in my knees, because I could not raise myself from the floor to a chair without pushing myself up on a chair. She told me, “You don’t have arthritis. You are too fat.” At 5’6” tall, I weighed 221 pounds (about 100 kilos). She also told me, “You can either lose weight or go on insulin for the rest of your life. What do you want to do?” Then she told me about FA saying, “It’s hard, but it works.” I went to my first meeting that night and found a temporary... Continue Reading
