“This program is portable, and you don’t have to stay home to stay abstinent.” I heard those words early on in FA, and took them to heart. Travel brought me into recovery and has been a constant part of my story. My food addiction set in when I was six years old. I was a shy, introverted, highly sensitive girl. I was afraid of my teacher and of being different from the other students. I remember coming home from school to my mother’s cooking and experiencing a feeling of warmth, refuge, and love. Those food associations became deeply ingrained in me. A boy called me “fatso” for the first time at age six, and I immediately replied, “I’m not fat – I’m big boned.” It was not until I came into FA that my family and I learned that I was not big boned after all. My real body was... Continue Reading
The break started with a memory of a place and a food connected to a moment saturated in grief for my spouse, who had passed seven years earlier. It was our favorite haunt. I had driven passed this food place many times and had learned to say, “This is not my food.” However, late at night three months ago, unhappy with my lonely life, I wished to connect again with my past. I thought that I deserved this one memory, and I indulged in a binge. Afterwards, I was filled with the self-loathing realization of what those mouthfuls would cost me. I then couldn’t qualify or get up in front of the room to tell about my 50-year struggle with food, shame, and compulsion. This break undermined my confidence and sense of usefulness. I couldn’t sponsor, share, or lead a meeting. I was at my goal weight, but couldn’t share... Continue Reading
I spent the majority of the afternoon planning a vacation my mother and I are taking, a process that has been a step in my recovery toward practicing better communication. I haven’t had much practice in this area, as I am single and have lived alone through the majority of my recovery. My present roommate is helping me practice kind communication, but I am a newcomer when it comes to saying what I mean instead of saying things in a mean way. Today my mom and I spent an hour searching the computer and trying to book our vacation. My mom kept telling me what to do, but the computer wasn’t acting fast enough to keep up with her directions. It was a miracle that I was able to calmly state that the technology wasn’t keeping up with our demands. I let her know that if she wanted to, she... Continue Reading
Desperation came calling again. The first time was a week before Thanksgiving when my weight was 326 pounds (148 kilos). My highest weight was 331 pounds (150 kilos). Sadly I was not ready to live in my right-sized body. I started eating within days of reaching my goal weight and left FA shortly thereafter. This first attempt was about being on a “diet.” In my second FA attempt, I had ten months of abstinence and was sponsoring. Being attractive, sexually desired, and in a thin body took me off course.It was Halloween when I broke in round three. Two weeks later, I had gained twelve pounds. I kept telling myself this was ok, since I wasn’t eating flour or sugar. Round four only lasted a few months. I allowed my feelings to get hurt by a sponsor. He didn’t have time for me, so again I left. I continued this pattern... Continue Reading
I’m sitting on the edge of my 13-year-old daughter’s bed just before bedtime. This is a special time and I value these moments when I am alone with my little girl—present, available, and fully focused on her. But this night, unlike others, she announces half-jokingly, “You and your program have ruined my life.” She is the younger of my two daughters and she was one-and-a-half years old when I found FA. At that time, I was working full time, my baby and her five-year-old sister were in day care, and my job was about to be cancelled. I was overwhelmed, overworked, and overweight. I had achieved most of my life goals. I had a loving partner, we had our two gorgeous daughters, and five years earlier we had successfully relocated to Australia from California in order to support my father who had vascular disease. And yet I felt alone, furious... Continue Reading
