When I weighed 212 pounds (about 96 kilograms) at age 17-18 years of age, I told myself I would never weigh that much ever again and that I would do anything to get that weight off. I began a diet in which I ate small amounts of protein every other day and I lived on sugarless snacks. I also bit my nails down to the quick until they bled and were infected and painful, but I couldn’t stop. I had to have something in my mouth all the time! My weight came down and I was starving. My dad did the cooking in our family of eight, and he would make big pressure-cooker-size meals. The food would be simmering when I came home from school or work and I just couldn’t resist trying some. But I wouldn’t take just a taste. I remember one day when I ate three or... Continue Reading
I learned about depression from my mother. I thought it was normal for all mothers to be in bed when their children came home from school. I substituted the companionship of my mother with the contents of the refrigerator. The trusted appliance was the first thing I ran to when I came home from school. No wonder I became depressed when food stopped working. I had lost a trusted “friend” of 40 years. I was not looking for FA, or even for a diet. I quietly wanted to slip away from the earth. I had such huge apathy toward life. I had decided that if my eating habits led to a heart attack, it would be a welcome way to leave the planet. I felt I had no connection to any part of my life or to the people around me. I also was extremely mad at food, my friend... Continue Reading
I have struggled with food for 50-plus years. I wasn’t a fat kid, but I thought I was. I compared myself to other girls continually, and when I was older, compared myself to other women. I can’t remember when I didn’t have thoughts about food and weight. Is my butt smaller or larger than hers? Are my thighs that big? I would starve myself, but not for long, because I really liked to eat. Then I would cry because I didn’t have the willpower not to eat. I put alcohol down in 1994 and have been in several Twelve-Step programs, but I never made it to the ninth step. I was in a very bleak pit of despair in early December on year and was wondering if I would be like that for the rest of my life. I’d sit in my easy chair, watch TV, eat, go to bed,... Continue Reading
There is a secret that lives within me: my addiction to food; the uncontrollable desire to overeat. The foods that I am addicted to are salty snacks and sugar. When shopping, I know exactly what to do to avoid those things: circle the store and stay in the outer aisle, where the healthiest foods are. I stock my basket with the healthy stuff. But I am ambushed while waiting on the check-out line. Sugary items are stacked to my left and my favorite salty, crunchy, “you can’t eat just one” items are stocked to my right. It is impossible to not reach for these items, especially when they are on sale. “Buy one get one free.” I am even happier. This has all changed now, as a result of going to FA and making a commitment to myself, my sponsor and the God within and my family. I resist the temptation... Continue Reading
On a recent crisp fall Sunday afternoon, I sat outside a coffee shop, having just finished my weighed-and-measured meal. I turned 39 this year, am in my ninth year of recovery, and have recently become much more “surrendered,” as we say in FA. Experiencing a sense of peace from my Higher Power and the peace that comes from giving up the fight in a new way surpasses any temporary shock of aging. Enjoying this new sense of serenity, I invited my brother, James, and my mom to join me for a chat in the autumn California sunshine. We talked, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. I basked in the glow of letting go and leaning into God, my sponsor’s guidance, and feeling safe deep within my soul, tucked securely into my recovery. So much peace! All of a sudden, my dear mother looked at me and said, “You look different.... Continue Reading
