A Story of Recovery:

Grieving Without Food

I gained 29 pounds in the five weeks before my dad passed away four years ago. I stuffed away my feelings with food. I binged and purged day in and day out to make myself numb to the world around me. I was not willing to feel the emotions I was having, and I was a mess.

I recently lost my mom, and I am so grateful to say that, as of today, I am abstinent. Because I am in Program, going through my mom’s long illness and death has been so different from the experience I had with my father. This time I had tools to use. I put my recovery first and was able to feel my feelings and not turn to food for comfort. I was at my mom’s bedside all night when she died. The first person I talked to after she passed was my sponsor. After things were settled at the care center where she died, I knew I needed to call my sponsor, commit my breakfast, and go home and eat an abstinent meal.

During my mom’s illness, death, and the grieving process, I have kept my program intact. I go to my committed meetings and my AWOL and weigh and measure all my food. People in Program brought me food that was weighed and measured, which helped me keep abstinent. If I was late getting home from my mom’s appointments, I knew I had an abstinent meal waiting for me. I prayed and kept telling my Higher Power how grateful I was that I was abstinent. I knew I needed to be vigilant about my program to keep me sane during a very emotional time. I realize that I need the discipline I find from Program to keep my life manageable.

I received an outpouring of support from my fellowship. They called and left messages, and most of these messages ended with the saying, “No matter what don’t eat, don’t eat no matter what.” When I found myself not able to make calls, I was able to go to my phone and listen to these messages and not reach for food.

This is not an easy time for me. I am sad and miss my mom tremendously. I am not used to feeling my feelings, but I’m not stuffing them down with food like I did when my dad passed away. But I still can fall into old habits.  On a recent meeting night, I was overwhelmed with my fellow FA members’ concerns. I was overcome by people asking how I’m doing, telling me what an inspiration I am for handling my mom’s death so well, or just reaching out to hug me. I couldn’t take it anymore, so during the break, I left the meeting. Part of me wanted to cry, and part of me was angry and wanted to rage at someone.

I left the meeting, ready to eat, but as I drove away, this voice kept saying to me, “No matter what don’t eat, don’t eat no matter what.” I was not eating, binging, and purging, but I started my old pattern of building up walls to keep people out. I kept telling people that I was fine, but I was not. I had no idea how to deal with the feelings I was having. I also didn’t know how to talk to people, even to my sponsor, about this. For my whole life, I had stuffed the feelings down and never expressed them.

So I decided to make my calls and tell people how I was feeling. I hadn’t wanted to seem down and full of “woe is me.” My sponsor was able to walk me through it and remind me that FA is a program of honesty. I realized that I needed to be honest with my fellowship without having to stay in the feelings and eat over them.

I thought about what I could have done if I had been willing to really reach out to my program when I had become overwhelmed at the meeting break. I could have asked someone to step out of the room and talk to me. Instead, I had chosen to isolate myself from my fellowship.

I get sad, I cry, but I don’t eat, no matter what. My mom is at peace and in no more pain. Because of FA, my relationship with my mom, which had been full of volatility and anger before I came into FA, was the best it had been in years. My sponsor had me pray every day for compassion and patience towards my mom. Because of this simple daily act, I was able to find the compassion and patience. The night my mom passed there was a peace and serenity in the room, and I know it was my Higher Power filling that room with His presence. Her passing was beautiful, and I am grateful I was able to be present for it.