A Story of Recovery:

Ending the Wild Ride

I went to high school in the early 70s, when beauty was defined by how blonde and long your hair was, how deep your tan was, and how thin you were in your little bikini. It was a time when the dieting industry had not taken off yet, so there were not too many options for diets. I just remember being on a diet of a boiled white oval protein and large yellow fruit. I remember those little white pills that were really “speed,” that were all over campus. So I did what was, to me, the most successful diet: “The Don’t Eat Diet.” I felt really successful when I could go for long periods without eating. My best effort was five days with no food! I was so proud of myself for having all that control. In those early years, I didn’t see the harm I was doing to myself, and how I was setting myself up for future difficulties.

I went through my teens and twenties with little understanding of nutrition and a great deal of strength withholding food. The diet industry started to blossom, and some pretty strange diets became moneymaking, short-term fads that proved unsuccessful for me.

Then a major life-changing event occurred. I walked in front of a car that was going 35 miles an hour and broke my legs. I am fortunate today that I was not crippled by it. Thank goodness for modern technology and steel rods. I went from being very active to being sedentary. It took three operations to put me back together. Just learning to walk again was a challenge.

That first year after the accident, I gained 40 pounds. And so began the incessant rollercoaster of doing some special diet, losing weight, going off the diet, and gaining back the weight. I did this over and over again and had big swings in my weight. Every new effort became more expensive and risky, until I finally hit 350 pounds. I saw no way out except the last hope—surgery. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I qualified as “morbidly obese,” and my health insurance paid for it. I thought, what a relief…finally, the solution! It did get me out of the danger zone, for a while. I got down to 200, but no lower. Then I started picking up weight all over again, because I had not learned how to eat properly, and I still ate for emotional reasons. I got to 250 and then went, as could be expected, to another diet program. I lost 50 pounds, but still could not get under 200. Then, as always, my weight started going up again. I couldn’t even stick perfectly to a packaged-food plan. I went back up to 225.

Then another major life event took me down. I lost a huge project at work. I felt horrible and responsible, even though it was not my fault. It was disturbing enough to get me to a therapist for the first time in my life, at age 53. In my second meeting with her, I revealed my life story concerning my weight. She told me I had a problem, and that there was a program that could help. She said she worked with many people with eating disorders, and that FA was the only program she knew of that worked.

I went to a meeting without knowing what I was I getting myself into, but it didn’t matter what it was, because I was desperate. A very sweet women sitting behind me was available to help me get started. She was a gift, because I was such a mess, emotionally and physically. I started out following the plan perfectly (as I always had in weight-loss attempts), but then started slipping and sliding, developing the “Me program,” a variation on FA.  I always ate the food we eat in Program, but too much of it.

I never stopped going to FA meetings while I struggled, but I couldn’t be honest with my sponsor because I wanted to be a “good” sponsee. I also was shy and couldn’t raise my hand at meetings, because I didn’t want to bring attention to myself.  My sweet sponsor tried to gently encourage me and say, “When you are ready.” Then she moved to another state and had to drop me. I was heartbroken, because I was relying on her to show me the way.

As I worked FA for a while, I began to know more about recovery, and I came to understand more about the importance of a strong sponsor. I had to pray on this, because timing was everything. More newcomers were coming to meetings, fewer sponsors were available, and the good ones were going fast. Again I got lucky, and the right sponsor became available…but she was different. My higher power gave me what I needed, and I was given a sponsor with a strong program. The concept of  “when you are ready” flew out the door, and in came, “get your hand up.” I now needed to take action.

So away went the “Me program” and in came the strong tools and structure I needed to help me work the program in the way it was intended. I know and feel the difference. I am much more present and aware now. I no longer worry about what the future will bring, because I don’t know what the future looks like. I have replaced my fear with faith that things will turn out just as they are supposed to. I take quiet time often to still my mind and be at peace. For me, happiness is just a byproduct of having peace.

I have softened judgment on myself and on others, and I can see things more clearly. I keep to the positive and stay away from people or situations that are toxic. I take it all one day at a time. I take action on life as I turn it over to God, and I have taken a closer look at what I define as my higher power, which I choose to call God.

I am grateful not to be in control of everything, because my way didn’t work. I now know I am not leaving FA. I have been on both ends of this disease, from a low weight in my teens and twenties of 135 (at 5’10”), to my weight in my 30s and 40s, which climbed up and down a hundred pounds several times, only to hit my top weight of 350 in my late 40s.  I pray to never know what 350 pounds or 135 pounds feels like, ever again. I pray each day for abstinence. I am done with my old way of living. It is over.