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.

Leading by Example

I am a father of four incredible children, now between 3 and 13 years of age. Prior to entering recovery in FA four years ago, I never viewed my children as assets whom I could cherish.  I saw them as a burdens for me, because they never did what I wanted them or needed them to do. They seemed to be in the habit of not listening to my wife or me. I thought of parenting as hard work. If only the children just did what I told them to do and stayed out of my way! After being in recovery for a couple of years, I was well and truly at my healthy body weight (some 45 pounds lighter), when my 8-year-old son gave me one of the most profound experiences in my short life in recovery.It happened to be the Jewish New Year, and at school my son... Continue Reading

 


 

Airport Travel in Recovery

Every time my husband and I have ever gone on vacation, by the time we got to our destination I was so full of resentment and fear that I could barely enjoy the trip.  I would cope with the fear of leaving my kids by stopping in the first gift shop I saw at the airport to buy something full of sugar and fat.  It was usually something I wouldn’t normally allow myself to eat.  I would justify the financial and caloric expense because I was going on vacation.  I never realized I was looking to numb the fear of something tragic happening and the worry that I might never see my children again.  To me, the fear was very real and big; I really thought I might die while I was away from my children.  I would write each one of my children a letter telling them how much... Continue Reading

 


 

Traveling With Faith

I was about to board a flight for my first trip to Europe in 37 years. Two years earlier, I had reconnected with some of my best college friends at a 35th reunion. They lived in Europe and I had spent much of my adult life in South America, so we had lost touch during the childrearing years. For the reunion, I was at my top weight, and it had taken me months of soul-searching to build up the courage to present myself. Fortunately, I overcame my fear and isolation for the event, and we were all excited to pick up where we had left off. After the reunion, I found FA, and now, I was almost at my goal weight, having shed 100 pounds. There was no chafing, no struggling to fit into the plane seats, no gasping for breath. The miracle was real, but I was terrified of... Continue Reading

 


 

Pregnant, Fat, and Miserable

I came into FA at age 34. I was fat and miserable. I was 19 weeks pregnant with my third child, weighed over 170 pounds (at 4’ 11”), on Jenny Craig, and exercising any chance I could get. My weight climbed every month, and by the end of my pregnancy, I had gained over 52 pounds. I hated myself for getting so fat, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not stop eating (mainly flour and sugar). The more I ate, the more I craved. I ate for two, and was a very proud, fat, pregnant woman. I had to wear a brace because my back and hip were so bad. I had horrible indigestion and heartburn and would often have my head over the toilet bowl attempting to alleviate the discomfort. I was induced 10 days early because I was retaining fluid and was in a lot... Continue Reading

 


 

Joy and Sorrow

Over the telephone, the nurse said to me, “Your husband does not want the breathing mask or the feeding tube.” I rushed to the hospital to be by Roger’s side. As we held hands, I asked him if he was at peace with his decision. Roger nodded and whispered, “Yes,” as he had lost his voice. Needing to give my beloved husband peace of mind. I said in a loving voice, “I understand and accept your decision.” His shoulders relaxed. Then I had to ask him where he wanted his ashes to go and if he wanted a funeral. The hardest thing I ever had to do in life. We continued to hold hands as the love of my life whispered, “Kiss.” We had two touching kisses granted by God. Then a peaceful look spread across Roger’s face. The nurse came in and gave him pain and sleep medication. He... Continue Reading