A Story of Recovery:

Cookbooks

I came into FA in January 2004 at age 58. By that time, I had made several efforts to control my crazy eating, having been overweight, underweight and bulimic throughout much of my life.

One of the very distinct ways I could trace the path of my journey was by simply looking at my bookshelf. I had an array of cookbooks that ranged from the basic Good Housekeeping to Basic Macrobiotic Cooking, vegetarian cookbooks, vegan recipes and on into the final trip I took with the Raw Foods Bible, all representing the many side trips I had taken in an effort to rein in my eating.

With each of these phases I embarked on, I was convinced that this one was “it.” This was the magic formula I could use for the rest of my life. Macrobiotics was healthy; it would balance my body and moods. All the books told me so. When that got way too complicated, I decided that being vegetarian was the best path to follow. It was good for the environment, good for my body and for sure would stabilize my weight. Those were the promises. When that was not enough, I took it one step further and cut out all animal products, claiming to myself, and anyone else who would listen, that veganism was the cleanest and kindest one yet. I justified all of these side trips with my political beliefs, not without a certain degree of superiority. In truth, it was all in an effort to control my weight. These may well work for others, but not for me, not how I used them.

The last of my attempts just before coming into FA was raw foods. I bought the books that included the recipes and all the rationale. Thus I could quote chapter and verse as to why this was the ultimate winner. At one point during this particular phase, my husband stood in the door of the kitchen and watched me making some concoction. I can picture him to this day, standing there, hands in his pockets, shaking his head, then turning around and walking out. He was through trying to keep up with or wrap his head around anything I was doing with food.

It was shortly after that when a high school friend came to visit. She had found FA and was singing its praises, and saying she thought it would help me. I didn’t think I needed help. I was 15 pounds underweight and thought I was just fine. It didn’t take long, however, for me to look at my collection of cookbooks and realize this was all a little nuts.

The cookbooks were the tip of the iceberg. So much of what constitutes the disease of food addiction was underneath the surface and yet to be revealed. Fourteen years later it is still being revealed.

After a month or so in FA, it was suggested that I get rid of the cookbooks. Although I knew I would no longer need them, to surrender and let them go took a little more time, as did most of the things I have had to surrender in this program. Eventually, I packed them up in a box and drove to the thrift store in the next town. The person I handed them to was delighted, saying they had several books but were low on cookbooks.

As I drove away, I felt enormous joy and freedom. The thrift store got what it needed and hopefully someone out there is enjoying what had become, for me, a symptom of the disease of food addiction. I got what I consider the greatest gift of all, which was another layer of the peace that only freedom from addictive eating can give.

Early in this program, I was told that every surrender brings you closer to God. When I first heard that, I was so hoping there might be an easier, softer way to get closer to God. While I am sure there are many ways to increase my closeness to God, surrender is clearly one of the most powerful. I think of surrender as a process, not an event. Each day in FA offers the opportunity for me to let go of something else; there is always more. In the process, I have found that, indeed, every surrender does bring me closer to God.