A Story of Recovery:

Moment of Clarity

I was born to working parents and I had one brother, six years my senior. As a child, I stayed with my grandfather during the day while my parents worked. To my delight, my grandparents lived on a farm with several cows, chickens, pigs, cats, dogs, and a pony.

My grandmother had a lovely vegetable garden. Life was good and food was plentiful. My mother and grandmother were great cooks and bakers and were more than eager to teach me. I learned well and enjoyed the instant gratification that came with smelling the aromas emanating from the kitchen. Thus began my love affair with food.

My weight problem started when I would eat breakfast with my parents and again with my grandfather. Then I would go across the street to my aunt’s house for another breakfast and also for extra lunches. I think I probably ate so much because I was missing my mother. Food was comfort.

I have been morbidly obese since second grade, when I weighed in at 120 pounds. My father hated having a fat child, so my mother took me to the doctor for a so-called “diet.” Then the yo-yo dieting began, and I became addicted to amphetamines.

From parochial school I went to high school, where my romance with food continued. I was accepted into a three-year nursing program, and I met all the criteria for entrance, except for the weight requirement of 150 pounds or less. I thought, No, this can’t be happening! I knew that in order to achieve my goal of becoming a nurse, I had to go on another diet. I had already lost 100 pounds three times, in addition to spending thousands of dollars on weight-loss programs. I was a yo-yo dieter and had been on many diets and always achieved my goal; the only problem was maintaining my lower weight.

Two years later, I did achieve my goal of 150 pounds and was on my way to becoming a nurse. Funny how we can work so hard at something we really want. Upon graduation and passing my state boards, I began a 45-year career as a registered nurse. Most of my jobs were in hospitals, oncology units, or hospices. I loved nursing, and I quickly gained the respect of doctors, peers, and patients. I loved my life and I loved myself, even though I was at times morbidly obese.

Sometimes we get desperate and need to admit that our lives have become unmanageable and that we are out of control. I had an “ah ha” moment when I could no longer reach vital areas of my body and had to buy extensions so I could wash myself. I became out of breath just going to the bathroom. I was too embarrassed to ask my roommate, who is a nurse, for help. I wanted to maintain my independence and dignity, but I was in total despair and contemplated gastric bypass surgery, even knowing the complications and risk factors involved.

I have been greatly blessed with many friends and support systems. A dear friend of mine, who is an FA member lost 254 pounds and has maintained his weight for 11 years. When we visited him this past spring, he asked if we’d like to attend an FA meeting to see what it was like.

Upon my arrival home from my first FA meeting, I sat on my bed and thought, Why not? I told God that I was powerless over food and that I needed His help to overcome my addiction.

Since coming in to FA I have found a serenity and inner peace that I have never known was possible. I love my abstinent way of life, living one day at a time, with an attitude of gratitude, and I thank God daily, for now there is hope where there was once despair.