I was in the biggest airport in Europe. After waiting for eight long and uncertain hours, I was taken off the plane, along with all of the other passengers. There were long lines of angry people waiting to talk to airline employees who could only give vague answers and work hard to calm their customers. The board showed a flight schedule of 60 flights, almost all of them marked with an uncanny “cancelled,” due to an unexpected airline strike. There were people, suitcases, announcements, signs, noise, and in the midst of all this, me—a recovering food addict who had missed a connecting flight to the FA convention. My mind was racing. Thank God I had packed dinner, but where was I going to get my abstinent meals for the unexpected 24 hour layover ahead of me? Where was I going to sleep? I had no clue, but I did have... Continue Reading
Probably the first thing I learned from FA was the need to be painfully honest. I couldn’t afford to fool around anymore. I was 57 years old, 297 pounds, 5’2” tall, and on 11 different medications. I had just lost my little sister in January from multiple self-induced co-morbid (deadly) health conditions. She ate herself to 400 pounds. I had let myself get up to 364 pounds at my highest point. I lost 129 pounds through gastric bypass and put 65 pounds back on. I walked into FA absolutely desperate. I’d proved over and over again that my way didn’t work. I arrived at a meeting quietly and sat in the last row, the so called “denial aisle.” It wasn’t my first time in FA, but it was the first time I was really listening. I had decided that I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Who was I fooling? I... Continue Reading
My father and another man had drowned seven months before I was born. My mother was diabetic and frequently hospitalized in a diabetic coma. She took shots daily in order to function. I was a premature baby and somewhat sickly. As a child, I suffered from chickenpox, whooping cough, ear infections, and hives. I have two older sisters and a brother by a different father. No one hugged me as a child. I was to be neither seen nor heard. When mother came home with gifts, I got more books than toys. Being the youngest, I was protected from the world by my siblings, although my brother was a little rough with me at times, calling me names and hitting me. I withdrew into my secret world of books. Raised by a single mother and siblings, I managed. I wish I could say I thrived. But early on, I felt... Continue Reading
Apologies do not always come easy. In FA, I have learned to accept that I am powerless over food, that my life had become unmanageable, and I made a decision to turn my will and my life over to a higher power of my own understanding. I’ve been taught to take a long hard look at what my part is in the situations or conflicts over which I carry resentments and anger. Early in my recovery from food addiction, an FA member told me a story about a time when her husband bullied her and was driving the car in a dangerous manner to scare her. When she told her sponsor about it, the sponsor said, “Apologize for your part.” I gasped when she told me that, and I said out loud. “I don’t know if I am that evolved.” Now I have come to understand, through personal experience, that... Continue Reading
After eight hours and two abstinent meals on the train, I was there. A committed FA member welcomed me with open arms. It was rainy and cold, and I was exhausted. An hour later another member arrived. We shared a room together. We were excited to meet since we had talked a lot on the phone. In two hours time we attended our first meeting of this nationwide FA get-together. Five beaming faces welcomed us, faces I see maybe once a year and voices I have heard a lot on the telephone. It was hilarious, and there were lots of hugs and screams of excitement. This was the first FA meeting I had attended in months, since I live in a place that doesn’t have FA meetings. The topic was, “The first 90 days.” There were 12 of us and eight had more than 90 days. While listening to people’s... Continue Reading
