Stories of Recovery


These stories were originally published in the Connection, FA's monthly magazine written by food addicts, for food addicts. Each post shares a different author's perspective. Visit this page often to read more experience, strength, and hope about recovery in FA. To get the newest issue of Connection Magazine sent directly to your mailbox or inbox, click here to subscribe to the Connection.

Surrendering to Simplicity

My life was on overload when I began attending FA meetings. I took on more and more assignments at work to overcome my feelings of inadequacy. I never knew how much was enough and how much was too much. My mother had recently passed away. She had been in hospice and I spent time with her regularly while not always balancing her needs with what was best for myself and my family. I took frequent trips to see my daughter who attended college out of state. I attended meetings for another 12-step program. I taught Sunday School at church. We had a dog. Life was full. My loving husband rolled with my chaos. I had no idea that eating was an addiction. I kept thinking, if I could just find the right diet or combination of food, I will be OK. More and more frequently I failed. I had strong preferences... Continue Reading

 


 

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

During an extended stay in a hotel for work I needed to do a load of laundry in the communal laundry room. When I returned to collect my laundry, an older gentleman was loading the dryer with his clothes and had placed my clothes on the folding table. In response to my apology for not returning on time to remove them myself he related that he remembered what it was like raising young kids and needing to get their swimsuit dried for the hotel pool. As I put my clothes in my bag, my mind was quickly trying to solve his strange riddle. I had no idea what he was talking about. My child is 21 years old and after letting my hair return to its natural salt-and-pepper color, I know I do not look like a woman who would still have young children. Then it dawned on me –... Continue Reading

 


 

Choosing Recovery

I am a food addict. Although this is at the core of who I am, as the years in recovery have passed, my Higher Power has created additional roles for me that bring great joy and can only be sustained with the strength that comes from being abstinent and connected. One of my favorite new roles is that of “student,” and I am so grateful for the endless flow of miracles that made this possible. For example, the school that I am currently enrolled in wasn’t even on my radar until one of my dear FA friends mentioned it as we were talking on a phone call one day. After her review of the school, I examined the idea with my sponsor, submitted reference letters written for me by FA fellows, and applied. I am now almost finished with my degree. In order for me to graduate, I must complete... Continue Reading

 


 

The Solution

I came into Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) a little over seven years ago. When I entered that first meeting I was warmly received, but also surprised that there were only three others present. Other 12-Step meetings I had attended were many times larger. I quickly realized that this was the solution for me. I listened and related to the things that were shared, though I did find some elements of the meeting strange and disconcerting, such as the rigid meeting structure and practice of sitting in rows. I went back to that meeting because it was the only meeting for miles around, compared to my other 12-Step meetings, which were held daily in my region. I saw FA as the solution to my eating addiction, which had held me captive since childhood. Yet, everything in me resisted the meeting format, the quiet time, and the phone calls. Actually,... Continue Reading

 


 

Caregiving in Recovery

Two years before I found FA, I was about 180 pounds, taking care of everyone but myself and then losing myself in the food at the end of each day. No matter how hard I tried to control my eating, I couldn’t resist the need to reward myself with more, or self-soothe my anger with sweets. Then I discovered that my estranged mom was a victim of abuse and neglect at the hands of her so-called “friends.” She needed family support as well as complex care for her longtime alcoholism and untreated bipolar illness, so my siblings and I arranged to move her out to the West Coast and I reluctantly became her primary caregiver. She frequently sought time together or showed love by asking to go out to eat, and I would oblige, even though it was often rife with conflict, especially when she ordered a drink or two.... Continue Reading