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.

Shaping Up and Shipping Out

Two months after finding FA, I went on a Caribbean cruise with some women from an organization to which I belong. The trip had been planned many months before I came into FA. With great trepidation, and a determination to remain abstinent, I walked up the gangplank not really sure that it was possible to cruise and be abstinent. My sponsor had assured me that this was not only possible, but that I’d have a good time. Still, I wasn’t so sure. I was anxious as we entered the ship’s buffet for our first meal on board. I really wanted to protect what I’d found in FA. I did a lot of walking, trying to assess exactly where “my food” was located. I found, with great relief, that appropriate food was everywhere, albeit sprinkled throughout this cavernous room from one end to the other. For one evening meal near the... Continue Reading

 


 

Not Feeding Fear

The clock read 3 a.m. I couldn’t believe it. How was I awake? And why was I arguing with my boyfriend again? Hadn’t we said, just a month ago, that we would get married? But we were having yet another argument about my FA program. This man did not support my recovery! He questioned whether I would always have to go to meetings, and he gave me a hard time about having to stop to eat at meal times. “I just want to hop on a motorcycle and not have to stop for lunch,” he blurted out one day. “Wow,” is all I could say. I was two years into my recovery in FA, but I didn’t feel the calm or peace I had started to enjoy. I was angry, upset, and full of fear. The clock rolled to 3:30 a.m. and I felt famished. I realized I needed G-d’s... Continue Reading

 


 

Sticker Shock

When I came into recovery 14 years ago, one of the first things my sponsor said to me was, “Okay, let’s put first things first; go ahead and give me your food.” A light went on for me at that moment. “First things first” was one of those expressions I’d heard or seen on bumper stickers, but never understood. Suddenly it meant something to me. That was the beginning of my understanding of the word “priority.” My sponsor gave me my new priority list, in order: 1) recovery, 2) family, and 3) job.  That meant that I had to take care of my recovery first and above all else. Because of the way that first conversation had begun, I had a sense of what that might mean and how to accomplish it. If something is at the top of the priority list, it means it has to be done first.... Continue Reading

 


 

At 19 years old I felt as though my life was over.

I started out life as an outwardly happy and healthy little boy. But I now see that by a very early age, I had the personality traits of a potential addict. I had a lot of trouble adjusting to life situations. After my parents’ divorce when I was three years old, I began to isolate and to develop a rageful and explosive personality. School became a continual struggle for me. As early as second grade, I violently rebelled against doing what I was told. In junior high school, my violent behavior toned down; but I became very depressed, withdrawing more and more into a world of drawing, science-fiction books, comics, and weight lifting. I hated being a skinny teenager and was continually frustrated that I couldn’t seem to get more muscular. For a while, my eating was rigid and controlled, but then I began to go to the other extreme,... Continue Reading

 


 

Pressing Pause

At 37 years old, I am going through the FA “change of life.” After a year in Program, I now realize that my Higher Power can do amazing things in just a “mini-pause” before I react. My previous reactions to life brought my weight up to 340 pounds. As appalling as that was, my behavior was even more notorious. I was full of anger at my own weakness and inabilities, and my anger spewed out onto family, friends, and co-workers. The people I cared for the most bore the brunt of my depression and insanity. My reaction to everything was instantaneous and uncontrollable. Instant thoughts of food led to instant eating. Instant realization of unfilled expectations led to instant criticism. Neither the food nor my outbursts were gratifying. I felt completely powerless over my reactions. My actions were instant, but the self-loathing over those reactions lingered and multiplied. Being willing... Continue Reading