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.

True Freedom

As a child I was needy and insecure. My earliest memories are of being filled with fear, doubt, and insecurities. I was never comfortable in my own skin. Although I was loved and well cared for, something was missing inside me. I simply could not get enough. Food played a big role in my family. My stay-at-home-mother cooked and baked, and many family celebrations included lots of great food. Somewhere along the line, I figured out that food helped me feel better and took the edge off. Some of my earliest memories include sneaking home-baked frozen sugar treats from the freezer in the basement, then rearranging the layers, hoping nobody would notice. I played games that involved sugar snacks, and ate forbidden foods until I felt sick. I look at pictures of me growing up, and while I was always conscious of being bigger than my sisters, I was not... Continue Reading

 


 

Changing My “Diet Mentality”

I had never heard the term “food addict” before. I discovered it on the Internet, along with the website telling me that there were FA meetings in my city. I came into FA beyond miserable, and I decided that this would be my very last attempt before I finally resigned myself to a life of hopelessness. I had contacted a willing sponsor the afternoon after attending my first meeting and assured her I did not want to start my food plan until Monday morning. I always started my new diets on Monday mornings. I was amazed to find that I was still on my new “diet” a week later, but what I had not thought through was the fact that I had a major event coming up the next week: taking my first child to college out of state. Not only did I usually start my new diets on Mondays,... Continue Reading

 


 

Accepting Addiction

I came into FA two years ago. I knew my relationship with food was warped and that I looked at food differently from the way other people did. I had tried several other Twelve-Step programs that dealt with food and I found some recovery, but never really “got it.” I thought of myself as a compulsive overeater, an emotional eater, and a bulimic. I knew I used food to stuff down feelings. I knew I was powerless over my emotions and the people around me, but I never thought of being powerless over food. It was easier to accept the diagnosis of the medical community that I was over-sensitive, bipolar, and that I needed anti-depressants. The medication helped with the mood swings, but they never helped with how I used food. I came into FA weighing around 367 pounds. The minute I walked into my first meeting, I knew that... Continue Reading

 


 

Off the Rails

I have been heavy from a very young age and began dieting at the age of 15. I have been on every kind of diet. I used to win T-shirts and prizes because I had ordered so many diet books off the TV shopping channel. I guess I thought that having the book, even if I didn’t read it, might help me lose weight by osmosis or something. I got married when I was 17. I was fat, but my husband was with me through the thick and thin of all my dieting years. When my daughter, my youngest child, was three, I decided to solve my problem once and for all. I got my stomach stapled. Actually, I got it stapled twice. This solution worked really well for me until the day I discovered that my new stomach could handle junk food much better than “real” food, because junk... Continue Reading

 


 

Big Brother Was Listening!

When my son was three-years-old, he would sometimes get very upset when it was time for me to leave the house to go to one of my committed FA meetings. He would cling to my leg and say, “Mommy, Mommy, please don’t go, please don’t go!” I would hug and kiss him goodbye, tell him I loved him, and go. Even though I knew I was doing the right thing, it was still heartbreaking. One day on the phone, I shared this scenario with another fellow, who also had children. The next time my son got upset when I needed to leave, I tried her suggestion. I knelt down close to him and said, “Do you know why I am going to a meeting?” He shook his head no. I said, “I am going so that I can be a better mommy.”  He wasn’t exactly satisfied. He said, “You’re already... Continue Reading