In FA we often say, “Less is more,” referring to the fact that letting go of food gives us more peace of mind. Sometimes in my house, the less response I get from my family, the more I see the degree to which I am not quite like others when it comes to food. My son, who doesn’t appear to be a food addict, had baked himself something for breakfast that was topped with sugar. I came along a couple of hours later to find my husband and son working on a project in the dining room. The dirty baking pan was on the stovetop. I grabbed a spatula and asked my son if he was done with the pan, and he said he was. I prepared to scrape the pan’s contents into the trash and said, “There’s a bunch of sugary stuff left.” My son and husband just glanced... Continue Reading
A few years before coming into FA, I had the honor of being the maid of honor to my sweet younger cousin. My dress fit tightly and was at risk of not zipping. The real “food addict” performance came during the reception. I proceeded to drink heavily and became intoxicated, walking around the reception barefoot with a bottle in each hand. I made inappropriate advances on other guests. Finally, lo and behold, the wedding dessert was served. Bingo! My eyeballs popped out of my head. As everyone was having a good time on the dance floor, I grabbed a friend’s hand and ran over to all the unattended servings at every table. I ate many portions of other people’s dessert from the tables. Eventually, a relative had to come and get me and tell me to stop. I ended up throwing up from all the sugar and alcohol I consumed.... Continue Reading
The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous promises us we will “be able to handle situations that used to baffle us” and yesterday I had the opportunity to see how: My parents and I went to the call-up (a Jewish marriage ceremony) of a family friend. Because I no longer live in the same state, I hadn’t seen many of the people there for a year or so. Before FA I attended many of these synagogue and luncheon events. However, instead of focusing on the people and celebrations, I would duck out to look at the spread the caterers had prepared. When the wait staff would go back to the kitchen I would quickly sneak something off the table and eat it before anyone could see – I always felt so ashamed and embarrassed, but I couldn’t help it. The food was there and I had to have it! Once the... Continue Reading
A disagreement with my husband and a daughter who didn’t want to talk decimated my serenity one morning–poor me! Negative babbling clattered through my brain. I’m incapable of having a good relationship, I heard. I’ll never learn how to talk to people. I’m just too stupid. Then my cell phone signaled arrival of a text. I frowned at the sender—my sister. My stomach clenched. Our last communication happened over three years ago. What could she want? I gingerly read her message. What became of our mother’s pearl necklace and opal ring? How about the other jewelry you promised we would disburse after mother died? Mother had been gone nearly sixteen years. Why the sudden interest in her jewelry? Was my sister accusing me of selling valuable jewelry? Maybe she thought I’d kept it for myself? I fired off an indignant text denying any knowledge of such items. A series of... Continue Reading
My sponsor asked me, “What does it really mean to be a food addict?” I gritted my teeth and felt a wave of irritation. If my sponsor knew what it meant to be a food addict, then why didn’t she tell me! I hate when people ask me a question when they know the answer. I felt a sense of failure and hopelessness. Why wasn’t I getting it? I had been in FA for a few months, and the program seemed demanding and difficult. All I ever seemed to do was chop up vegetables, weigh my food, and go to meetings. I had no time for anything else. My relationship with my sponsor was also awkward and painful. I felt all of my insecurities and fears rising up. I already thought that I wasn’t good enough, and suddenly there was this question again: “What does it mean to be a... Continue Reading
