A Story of Recovery:
Enjoying Life, Not Just Food
I walked into the Renaissance Faire and took a deep breath. Mingled with the cool, autumn air and earthy smell of leaves was the aroma of festival food.
Before I came into recovery that scent was something I looked forward to every year—the fried foods, the food on sticks, the sugary desserts. I had been going every year since I was a kid and the thing I remembered most, rather than the shows, the games, or the elaborate costumes, was the food. I liked it so much I got a job there and for two years in college my Septembers and Octobers were punctuated by weekends of bingeing on festival treats, so much so that the majority of my meager paycheck went right back into the pockets of the vendors selling the items I liked best. On Sunday nights, knowing that I would have to go another five days without that food, I would stock up, wrap my food in tinfoil and take it home to tide me over until the next weekend.
I was in college and I was over 200 pounds. I hated my body and I hated the way I looked, but I loved the food and I loved that at the Renaissance Faire I could eat with abandon and just enjoy being in a fantasy world that was disconnected from reality. The problem was that my reality was miserable. I was wracked with fear, doubt and insecurity and this caused me to isolate in my dorm room with TV and snacks from the dining hall. I didn’t meet anyone and I felt terribly left out and lonely. So every weekend, it was a relief to put on a costume, pretend I was someone else and soothe my pain with deep-fried flour and sugar.
Even after I stopped working there I still eagerly anticipated September when I could escape back into Renaissance England and get reacquainted with my favorite festival foods. For eight more years I continued to measure the months of my life by the foods I ate—September was the Renaissance Festival, October was Halloween, November was Thanksgiving, and so on. It wasn’t until I found FA at 27 that I learned that life is about more than eating. It was summer when I came into program and I grudgingly surrendered flour and sugar in order to lose weight. I wasn’t sure I was a food addict, but something kept me coming back and weighing and measuring my food. I know now it was my higher power.
When September rolled around just two months into recovery I went back to the Renaissance Festival, toting my abstinent lunch in Tupperware. I wish I could say that it was easy and that I had a wonderful time without the food, but that wasn’t my experience that first time. In fact, it felt like torture. I was exhausted and upset and all I could think about was the foods I wasn’t “allowed” to have. It was probably a mistake to immerse myself in the smells and food nostalgia so soon after getting into recovery and I have since learned that I need to do things differently if I want to have peace of mind around the food.
That doesn’t mean that I have to avoid going to festivals and experiencing all of the joys of the seasons; in fact, I still go back to the Renaissance Festival at least once a year and I love it. Learning to do things differently just meant that I have to take care of myself and my recovery by keeping spiritually fit and focusing on the people and activities rather than on the food. I ask god for help before going in and I don’t let my eyes, nose or thoughts linger on the booths selling food. I watch the shows, marvel at the intricate and often hilarious costumes and enjoy the company of my friends.
In the nine years since coming into FA I have lost 75 pounds and my life has changed completely. I no longer feel miserable and insecure, I don’t hate my body or my life and I don’t have to put on a costume to escape from reality. It’s occasionally fun to go back and pretend I’m in the 1500s for an afternoon, but after a full day of jousts, revels, and games, it’s actually a relief to head home and return to a life that is richer and fuller than I could have possibly imagined.