A Story of Recovery:

Opening the Door

Food has always been my best friend. Food was there when no one else cared. Food made everything in my life bearable.

I grew up in active alcoholism with a big religious family. We prayed for years that Daddy would stop drinking. And when it seemed like God had answered our prayers, my dad’s sobriety brought more emotions and feelings than I could understand as a 10-year-old.

Trading addictions

I was the oldest of eight kids, and I took care of all the younger ones while my parents were either arguing or going to meetings. Taking care of everyone else was my responsibility, and I learned quickly that everyone else came first. I wanted to play sports or join after-school activities, but the family had too much going on for me to get anything I wanted. Since I was home with a kitchen full of food and missing out on activities I couldn’t join, I ate. I’d sneak food all the time. My first job was babysitting, and I’d be alone after the kids were sleeping. I’d raid the cupboards, stuffing myself.

After I graduated from high school, I ran from that home and all of my responsibilities. Now I could live it up, and I did. I would drink and stay out all night. I had two or three jobs and would work, hung over, swearing I wouldn’t drink that night, but I always needed to have a couple of drinks to soften the edges of life. Finally I saw the path I was heading down. I stopped drinking, but I dove into the food. I couldn’t believe how much I was eating, and I couldn’t stand how much weight I was gaining.

Six months into sobriety, I decided I wasn’t going allow myself to gain any more weight. I joined a weight-loss group at a local hospital, under a doctor’s supervision. I lost 75 pounds, and life became grand. I was 26, sober, thin, and taking care of myself. I was learning to put myself first. I was learning to be alone and enjoy it. Isolation from everyone and everything seemed comfortable to me. Sleeping, going to the gym, and going to work was pretty much my life for a few years, until I met my husband.

Coping with marriage

I wouldn’t eat much in front of my husband or other people, but when I was home alone I’d sit down by myself with my food. I deserved the food; I worked out all the time.  I was indulging in “healthy” food, so I thought I was safe. I couldn’t hide in my food with someone around. I learned to hide food in my car, or eat snacks at a fast food drive-thru and throw the garbage away before returning home.

Next came pregnancy, and I had my ticket to eat freely. People in the weight-loss group I was still attending told me I’d be fine and that I needed to eat to stay healthy for my baby. I’d been attending classes and support groups for four years, and I thought I had the knowledge to take care of myself. So I ate like I wanted to through my pregnancy, and tried to go back to a heavy workout schedule when the baby arrived. That wasn’t as easy as it was before I took on the responsibilities of being a wife and mother.

They were back—responsibilities. I knew how to take care of responsibilities; they came first, before me and my needs. I turned back to my best friend—food—for love and comfort.

A year after my second daughter was born, my husband finally admitted that he was not happy with my weight gain. At that same time, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and was given a year to live. I was pissed! She was going to die, and my selfish, self-centered husband was adding to my anger. Oh boy, was I mad. I made peace with my mom before she died, but stayed mad at my husband.

I tried to loose some weight, but the 15 or so pounds I’d lose in three months wasn’t inspiring enough to keep up the effort. Besides, he didn’t notice or make any positive comments, so why bother? We could be roommates who traded care of our daughters from day to day.

Four more years of living that way became too much for me. My mind was consumed with work, home, school, and relationships. There was always something to be done, and I never found relief or relaxation. I tried to be as happy, joyous, and free as I could be. But I knew that food ruled my life. I prayed and examined my character defect of compulsive eating, but I could not keep away from food. I knew how to be sober. Don’t pick up the first drink. Simple. Stay away. But how do you stay away from food? Humans have to eat to survive, and once I picked up the food, it was all over. I was eating nonstop.

Finding the solution

I had been sponsoring a girl in AA who suffered from bulimia. She and I would often talk about our problems with food, but I would tell her I knew I couldn’t help her. All I was trying to do was be as happy, joyous, and free as I could be, sober. God knew my needs. He knew what was in my heart, but He wasn’t granting my plea.

She continued to get worse in her bulimia, and went through a treatment center. After treatment, she attended another Twelve-Step program for food, and she did a little better. The obsession was still there for her in our conversations.

I had had enough of my husband’s avoidance of me, and I was ready to look at leaving him. I knew it wasn’t going to fix anything in me, but I was clueless as to what I could do. My bulimic sponsee was coming home to visit for a family event, and she mentioned FA meetings to me. Hmmm? I researched the program online and found a meeting in my area. Did I really want to do this? Yes! I was desperate. I needed a change, either in me or in my marriage. I went to my first meeting and found hope. FA was based on the Twelve Steps that I had been student of for many years. They told me I had an allergy to flour, sugar, and quantities of food. A disease. I understood that, and was ready to start.

The first woman I heard qualify in the meeting was a new mom with two small children at home. She shared the frustrations that moms experience, the same ones I ate over. But she was abstinent. She was not going to eat over anything. A mom that I could relate to…how did God know?

They told me to buy a digital scale on my way home, and my future sponsor told me to call her at 7 a.m. the next morning. Huh? Seven in the morning is when I picked up my first warm sweet drink of sugar to start my day. I guess I’d need to call her instead of drinking that warm sugar. I was given the food plan and instructed on the new tools I’d be using to help me stay abstinent. I shared a little of my despair with my new sponsor, and she said if I was there to lose weight for my husband, then it wasn’t going to work.

I was willing to put the food down and to stop trying to fill that emptiness inside me with food. Once I opened that door of willingness, God stepped in and took care of the rest. He took care of me during that first birthday party when I wanted to celebrate. He was there when I had to work out my food plan for the day, and He was there when I ate each meal. I was satisfied after meals. No need to snack in between, only to experience life and be present in the moment.

The weight seemed to fall off, and baggie clothes were an inspiration to keep following the plan and using the tools. I met a fellowship of people that I could relate to, and they helped me through any trouble I was having. They showed me the way. They called me at times when I didn’t know I needed a hug. They carried me and loved me until I could find my way. My sponsor applauded me for sharing everything with her, for not keeping any secrets, and for getting the garbage out so I wouldn’t go back to the flour and sugar.

Now I’m seven months into this, and I have lost 65 pounds. I’m raising my hand to sponsor and learning how to give this gift away. I’m making mistakes and I’m stumbling, but I am learning, and I am willing to continue showing up and practicing the “how” of this program: Honesty, Openness and Willingness to whatever God reveals to me. Will this abstinence last and stand up to the realities of life? Time will tell, but all I need to worry about is today. That is about all I can handle right now. God brought me this far. I don’t think he plans on dropping me now. I just have to remain willing to go to any lengths for victory over flour, sugar, and quantities.