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.

Finally Right-Sized

Eleven years ago, I was on the phone with a customer service representative of a plus-size women’s clothing line trying to order black palazzo pants in size 3XL and 4XL. The representative asked why I was ordering the same pants in two different sizes, because they have a very simple return policy. I explained to her that I had no idea what size I was and I was in desperately in need of an outfit for my best friend’s wedding, which was happening in less than a week. I had completely put off buying an outfit because I could not mentally deal with trying on clothes. There were no plus-size clothing stores within 50 miles of my home, and I ran out of time to buy an outfit in a store. I had even contemplated not going to my best friend’s wedding to avoid the whole situation. I had been... Continue Reading

 


 

Fear’s Fancies

When I came into FA, I was on Social Security disability because I am bipolar. I had a doctor who signed a letter saying that I would never work again because I was so mentally ill. I was bingeing and purging, and trying to not go back to using meth because I knew I would lose my disability and my housing. I had seen too many addicts throw everything away in the chase for the drug. I intuitively knew that every binge led to drinking, which led to meth, which led to jail, etc. But there was still no way on earth that I could quit bingeing and throwing up. I was desperate when I came into FA, and I fell in love with the program, even though I kicked, balked, and screamed at virtually every sponsor suggestion. By working with a strong, committed sponsor and taking all of her... Continue Reading

 


 

Fears of Real Life

When people used to ask me what my greatest fear was, I wouldn’t say spiders or heights, I would say that I will fall in love with the man of my dreams, get married and be blissfully in love, and then a little while down the road he will wake up and realize that he doesn’t love me and that marrying me was the biggest mistake of his life. I had always been afraid that I wouldn’t feel confident with the decision to marry. I thought that I would be thinking, on my wedding day, that this guy who I was committing my life to was a pretty good guy, good looking, and someone I respected and enjoyed, but that I wouldn’t feel passionate about him. I thought I would have doubts or feel that I was just settling, because I would think he was the best I could get.... Continue Reading

 


 

Knocking at My Door

I got abstinent in a college town, where every other door was a food outfit. Many of the doors were very familiar, as this was the town where I had gone to college and had frequented many of the local eateries. As I walked down the street, the soundtrack in my head went something like this, Maybe I’ll have a …, no. Maybe I’ll go to …, no. Maybe I’ll get a…, no, not today.  The food thoughts came fast and furious. On one particular day, as I heard the barrage of thoughts flying through my head, I thought, Man! I wasn’t this obsessed with food before I got abstinent! Almost the instant I had that thought, I realized that the reality was that before I got abstinent, every time I thought about food, I ate food. I never had to sit with the thought in my head and ride... Continue Reading

 


 

Castles Made of Sand

When I was a kid, my favorite summer activity was to go down to the beach and build a sandcastle. Not a little one either. We’re talking a massive endeavor with several layers of fortifications. It generally required the concerted efforts of three or four siblings and cousins to excavate and construct the sand behemoth, and the bigger it got, the more effort it took to maintain it. We’d build it close to the waves and with every added ring of walls, our construction would come perilously closer to the water. Nothing beat the thrill of trying to keep a layer of wet sand from collapsing under the onslaught of a vicious, uncaring wave. The satisfaction when a monster wave came along and almost, but not quite, annihilated the outer fort was unmatched by any other pleasure I could experience as a ten-year-old boy—except, of course, for the joy this... Continue Reading