A Story of Recovery:

Ins and Outs

I realized I had a problem with food when one bite was never enough. Even though I was not hungry, I could not stop eating. My head was in a fog; I was always in a bad mood. I stopped counting servings as I went back for more again and again. Through the years, my weight fluctuated up and down. “Your face looks rather full,” friends would comment. Or when I lost 20 pounds they would say, “You look terrific! Have you lost weight?” I wish that I could have taken some strength from those compliments, but I lost control over and over.

I tried various ways to manage my love of sweets. I baked for others and took just one piece for myself. Well, that never worked. One piece led to another and another until I had to bake the treat for “others” all over again. I can’t say that I was ever hungry, but neither can say I ever felt full. I remember one time visiting my niece and her family. We were in a restaurant and I was just shoveling food into my mouth. All of a sudden, I had to run to the ladies room. Automatic purge. I went back to the table and ate dessert. While recounting this memory to my niece recently, she said, “Yes, and when we got home, you spent most of the afternoon in the bathroom doing the same thing.” I don’t remember that at all. I wonder how many other instances I don’t remember. It occurs to me now that this is what a food blackout must be like.

I couldn’t make friendships. Food, and lots of it, my drug of choice, so readily available, made me very fearful, wary and distrusting. I became critical and judgmental of everyone except myself. In fact, I would act as if I were better than everyone, pointing out that everything they did was wrong, in order to make myself look better. Like the eating, I had no idea that this was turning people away from me. Even as a teenager, when food did not seem to be a problem, I would be the life of the party for six months and the other six months I would isolate. All I could do was go to school. My grades suffered. I went from being first in the class in my early years to last in my high school graduating class. Still, I was not fat, so I never made the connection that sugar was causing my mood swings.

I know now that I used people – men mostly. They were easiest to manipulate. I would get them to a place where they were vulnerable and then laugh in their faces, making them feel like fools. I got high from that. I almost got fired from a good job because I did not want to be told the same thing twice. “I know,” I would say, “you don’t have to tell me again.”  I got the reputation of being obstinate and not able to take direction. My father later taught me that when someone tells me something I already know, instead I should say- thank you. I do that to this day when I am not in the food. The food makes me act like Jekyll and Hyde.

One day, I walked into Weight Watchers. I did not want to join. I didn’t think I needed to. I just wanted to weigh myself. The woman was kind enough to let me. After I saw what I weighed, probably 20 more pounds than I thought. I took a chair and stayed for the session. I never went back. I still could not believe that I needed to control my weight. When I was twelve, I was crying to my father that I was too skinny. All the girls my age were developing and I wasn’t. His advice was, “Eat until you are full and then eat a little more. You’ll gain weight.” It never occurred to me in my adult years as well that this method would work to the point of my becoming obese.

I drifted through life feeling like I was in a dark tunnel without a light at the end. I dreamt of ending my life numerous times. Still, something was keeping me alive.

My first introduction to FA was running into a friend I hadn’t seen in months. She was always heavy and depressed and here she was thin and HAPPY. I did not care so much about thin as I did happy. She told me about FA and I had five desserts that day.

I drove 30 miles to a meeting the next morning. It was a qualifying meeting. I sat in the back of the room and sobbed. That was my story the speaker was telling – the dieting, fasting, different programs, lying about food, hiding food, going through the garbage to recover food thrown out, being disgusted with myself and not being able to stop. So I got a sponsor, went to three meetings a week and never got beyond step three in an AWOL (an in-depth study of the 12 steps).  I wanted so badly to be “a good little girl, to do everything right”. I kept having mindless breaks and hating my sponsors for making me start all over again. I wanted to get up there and tell MY story. However, I never made calls, wrote in my journal, read the 24-hour book or the Big Book. Get on my knees? You have to be kidding. I spent all my childhood on my knees, I was raised Catholic, you know. Quiet time? Nope. I lost 40 pounds in two years but never got serenity. I found a religion that had the same guidelines. I really thought that I could do it with the church. The most important thing was missing, the FA fellowship.

I recently came back into the program after eight years. I had grown from a size 6 to a very tight 12. But what drew me back was the need for sanity. I knew that I would lose the weight, but I could not mentally go on the way I had been for over 60 years. I couldn’t stand myself anymore. Everything physical, mental, or emotional was such an effort. FA is my last chance.

I am totally committed. I’m not perfect, but trying the best that I can. The neutrality around food is getting easier. I am working the program, giving my will to God on my knees morning and night, making my calls, reaching out, taking quiet time, reading, writing, and sharing the 24 hour book every morning with an FA friend, doing service, and getting on my knees and asking for help not only for myself but others.  I know now what ‘half measures’ means. I am humbled about my progress. I am doing my 1%. God is taking care of the rest. I know that one bite would fling me into the abyss and I don’t know if I could come back again. When the food tempts me, I say the serenity prayer asking God for strength and courage. I just got 90 days of abstinence and look forward to being more involved doing service to help other food addicts like myself. For me, honesty and integrity are key to keeping me safe and abstinent one day at a time.