Most of my life, I’ve not been athletic. The only reason I exercised was to lose weight or to counteract my most recent binge. It was all about burning calories or toning, and I didn’t really enjoy the effort or experience. When I came into FA I was 52 years old, 200 pounds, depressed, and beginning what I thought was to be a lifetime of worsening arthritis. My joints and the high arches of my feet were hurting, and I resigned myself to a steady decline. I didn’t think there was another choice until I was lead, by the grace of God, to FA. I lost my weight in 11 months and settled on 123 lbs on my 5’4″ frame. It was nothing short of a miracle that all my arthritis pain disappeared completely. I was at my goal weight for a few months when an older, overweight co-worker asked... Continue Reading
On my drive home from college after graduation, I felt full of self-loathing, disappointment, and despair. The drive took longer than usual because I had to pull over a few times to get my sobbing under control. My despair was overwhelming and the only thing that could relieve it was food, so I stopped several times at fast food drive-thrus. I couldn’t really connect that food might be the cause of my despair. I read in the Big Book recently something that sums up my attitude at the time: “To my way of thinking, booze (and in my case, food) had been the answer to my problems – not the problem itself.” I had thought a college degree would transform me into the happy person I so desperately wanted to be, and there I was, feeling the same old misery and disappointment in myself that I had carried for as... Continue Reading
I walked into my first FA meeting ten years ago and saw five people in the room. There was no back row where I could hide, with my stuffed stomach and agonized nerves. I had just had a several day out-of-control-binge. The women spoke about the fact that they loved this program and enjoyed being in healthy, normal-sized bodies. They had that glow in their eyes. I had a normal-sized body, too, but boy did I hate it. I still can’t recall why I came back to those small meetings that you hardly could call a group. I knew lots of larger Twelve-Step groups and thought that something must be wrong with this program, when so few people attended a meeting. On the other hand, I felt that I needed help with my suicidal food intake. I also can’t recall what made me, after five meetings, shyly ask a member... Continue Reading
When I was 29 years old, I made the mistake of experimenting with freebase cocaine and experienced a brush with death after having inhaled some vomit as a result. I was in a coma for eight days; on two occasions, I was told, I had flat-lined brain waves. I should have died; but God had other plans for me. When I came out of the coma, I wrestled with three bouts of pneumonia. My weight dropped from 185 pounds to 143 pounds, and at 6 foot 3 inches I was now skinny and weak. The doctors removed the feeding tubes, and taught me how to eat again without choking on the food, because at that point I had lost all my motor muscle skills as a result of the anoxia. The nurses began feeding me double entrées and triple desserts in an effort to put the weight back on. It... Continue Reading
I remember the day like it was yesterday instead of almost 15 years ago, when one of my greatest fears about being a morbidly obese middle-aged woman came to pass. I had been living in constant fear of falling and not being able to get up, with nobody around to help me. It happened at the office restroom. I stood up and was unable to walk or even move. The pain in my knee was unbearable. I was stuck in the stall. All the years of being obese had worn away the cartilage in my knees. I used a cane to walk, but I left my cane back in my office on the other side of the floor. It was mid-morning, and co-workers were in meetings. I waited for someone to come into the restroom. I finally had to shout for help. It was so embarrassing. Everyone was rushing around... Continue Reading
