I began life outside the womb in an incubator, March of 1940. Within my first few years, I was diagnosed with asthma and then with a myriad of food allergies, some of which I still have today. Some of those foods were exactly the ones I wanted because they were the favorites of most kids and thus became my “forbidden fruits.” So what did I do when I was denied what I wanted? I learned to be sneaky—to hide food, eat in the cellar, steal change (and later dollar bills) from my mother’s purse to get my stashes of food. I ate from the leftover dishes in the living room the morning after a party and raided the refrigerator while my parents slept. My mother couldn’t figure out why I was getting sick so much, but it was because I’d eat until I couldn’t breathe. My body changed from a... Continue Reading
As the new year approaches, I am sitting here thinking about this occasion in years past. I always had resolutions, always. Looking back, I now see that they were pretty typical addict resolutions: I was going to quit smoking, I was going to stop drinking (for real this time!), and, of course, this was going to be the year that I was going to eat in a healthy way for the rest of my life—no junk, no sugar (wasn’t so convicted about the flour), and no caffeine. And, I was going to stop throwing up once and for all. When making all these resolutions, I had the best of intentions. I believed that this time it would be different. I would try this, that, or the other approach that I had not tried before, and this time it would work. No thought was given to the fact that it never... Continue Reading
My son was born almost three years after I came into Program. I had been bulimic for about 12 years prior to FA. Before I got pregnant, I had some concerns about the impending weight gain and body changes, but I actually loved being pregnant and felt really healthy. The extra weight came off easily after my son was born, and I learned how to adapt my new schedule and responsibilities to fit with the tools and disciplines that supported my recovery. But I had a break in my abstinence when my son was two. I was still using my tools, but not with the same vigor as I had before. I was having a hard time being a parent. I had unrealistic expectations for myself and for my son, as well. I slipped into negativity quite frequently and started isolating, even though I was going to meetings and making... Continue Reading
Two months into my new job, my boss sent out an email. He was organizing a dinner as part of the upcoming staff retreat and wanted suggestions from our department for good places to eat. At some point in the flurry of reply emails, I realized that the date in question, still months away, fell on a Tuesday night. Tuesday night is my AWOL (A Way of Life), and this meeting, where we study the Twelve Steps, is a serious commitment for me. I realized it was time to talk with my boss about being in FA. I had already spoken with my sponsor about this issue, as my boss sometimes invites our team to go out and eat lunch together, and I have at times declined. On one of these occasions, when I indicated that I couldn’t eat at a particular restaurant, my boss asked, “What will happen? Will... Continue Reading
My earliest memories are those of constant turmoil. My mother was always screaming and nagging my dad and he would blow up and throw things. One time my dad got upset (probably from my mother’s nagging and screaming) and threw a bowl of cereal at her. Although I’ve blamed a lot on my mother over the years, I realize that my father shares the blame as well. His temper was horrible. I could hear him rattle off a chain of profanities from down in the basement. One time he got upset because our boat’s engine stalled, so he punched it and broke his hand. I figured his behavior was justified because he had to deal with my mother. My mother would take her frustrations out on me, yelling and getting more and more frustrated and angry when I wouldn’t answer…but I couldn’t answer. I had learned to shut down. I... Continue Reading
