A Story of Recovery:

From Cheerleader-Dating-the-Quarterback to Drinking and Smoking and Eating

Since age 14, I’ve gained and lost 20 to 25 pounds many times, always having a closet of clothes ranging in size from skinny jeans to fat pants. My love of sweets and junk food began early, but I was an active kid and ate those things in moderation. Our pantry and freezer looked like a convenience store, with packaged goodies lining the shelf at all times. We grew up eating three square meals made by my mom, and we always had dessert.

My parents got divorced when I was in junior high school, and in one semester, my grades plummeted, my weight shot up 20 pounds, I went from cheerleader-dating-the-quarterback to drinking and smoking and eating. Thus began my pattern of dealing with life by overeating and engaging in other self-destructive behaviors. If I had a dollar for the number of times family and friends, over the years, heard me in the kitchen and said, “What are you eating now?” I’d have a better car.

I got married, had a beautiful preschool-aged son, a home, a dog, and a loving, growing relationship with God, my Higher Power. My food, my weight, and my body image, however, were an area of constant mental torture.

I ended my doubling my usual 20-pound weight gain and was eating for any reason:  over the slightest offense or uncomfortable feeling, out of boredom or loneliness, and for any celebration. I would go to several fast food places per week. I was hiding food throughout the house so my husband wouldn’t know how much I was eating or spending on it. I would tell him I was going to throw away junk food if he didn’t eat it soon, and I would eat it when he was at work. I ate food that I knew he was saving for himself, even though I’d already had my portion. When I was at a friend’s house, I would tell her I was taking a plate home for my husband, and he’d never see it. I would get a take-out snack or dessert and eat it before I got home, then throw the bag in the outside trashcan. I knew I was going to do some diet, so I guess I was trying to get in the most junk I could. One month I added up how much money I’d spent on my addiction, and I wasn’t surprised. I couldn’t even blame it on my three-year-old!  I was a new stay-at-home-mom and it was the first time in a long time that I didn’t have to work at hiding the quantities I was eating.

We took a family vacation in the summer of 2010. When we got together about a week later to look at our photos of the trip, I was disgusted! I sat in amazement at how in the world I’d let myself go. “That’s not me! How did this happen?”  I knew I was eating too much. I knew I was wearing my big clothes all the time, trying to pretend I was okay with that, but even my big clothes were getting tight. In my head, I wondered if outsiders saw me with my husband and thought what’s he doing with her?

Over the next several months, I couldn’t get that photograph out of my mind. I continued to eat the same way, feeling trapped by my behaviors, but never doing anything about it. By Christmas I’d gained 10 more pounds. The day I saw 174 on my scale at home, I walked downstairs truly concerned about what was going on with me. I’d never let my weight get this out of control. Normally the sight of those numbers on the scale would’ve made me run to the gym and clean out my pantry. This was the most weight I’d carried, but what scared me to the core was the apathy I felt. What scared me was that it didn’t scare me. I knew then that my weight was on its way up even higher if I didn’t act fast. I wasn’t putting together that it really represented how out of control I was, and not just with my weight. I’d been justifying my overeating for five years straight, so I was immune to the shame and steeped in denial.

Next thing I knew I was in Weight Watchers for the first time in my life. Whatever weight I’d ever gained I’d always been able to lose, so I had never sought outside help. I had always been able to do it on my own. For the first time, I had to seek help. I’d planned on asking for a Weight Watcher membership as a Christmas present. My dad happily obliged. But what was missing from Weight Watchers for me was accountability and support between meetings.

A few weeks before Christmas, I stopped by a local church in my area to drop off a donation. My eyes caught a small, typed sign on the door listing various recovery meetings offered at their church during the week. One of them was FA. That little sign jumped out at me as if it could talk.

I never went back to Weight Watchers. I told my dad he’d be saving himself some gift money on me because I’d joined FA. I’m grateful to God that He showed me the way I needed to go. I’ve been in Program for seven months. I floundered the first three months, not wanting to surrender fully. But thanks to God, I’ve been abstinent for the last four months. I’m in an AWOL (A Way of Life, a study of the Twelve Steps), have a great sponsor, and have lost all 40 pounds. I have gained peace and serenity, my house is well managed, and I have the energy to make the bed and dress nicely even if I’m not going anywhere. I have tools to turn to when I feel overwhelmed, and real, live people to call when I feel like the only food addict in my circle of friends and family. Because of the structure, support, and spiritual foundation of this program, those old, destructive behaviors have been replaced by a disciplined way of living and, I can’t believe I’m saying this…I like it.