A Story of Recovery:

Settling into an Abstinent Life


I came into FA at 27 years old, 197 pounds (about 90 kilos), and was living with my boyfriend at the time. We had met in Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) about one and a-half years prior, moved in together after six months, and had labeled ourselves as the young AA power couple. We both went to lots of meetings and were known in the AA community. We were in the “in” crowd and life was good, except my food addiction was progressing at rapid speeds. I was in OA (Overeaters Anonymous) prior to coming into FA, and though I was nowhere near what we call abstinent, I wasn’t blackout bingeing daily. At my top weight I was around 250 pounds (about 113 kilos) but for most of my disease, I yo-yoed between 180-200 pounds (about 82-91 kilos).

After we had begun living together my disease took off again, as it always did after brief periods of temporary relief. At Christmas dinner at my boyfriend’s family’s house, I was bingeing on appetizers that had been out for so long they had crusted over. His mom had commented to him about my eating because it was so unnatural. I remember thinking, “Just get a plate of food, heat it up, and bring it to the table.” But no, my disease demanded that I stand hunched over, awkwardly in the corner, stuffing my face, and peering over my shoulder to see if people were watching; and they were. I couldn’t hide it anymore. Other times I would leave the house randomly to go out for a binge and come home feeling so sick. I’d try to pretend I was fine so he wouldn’t know, but he knew. It was hell, for both of us

I found FA through a friend and once I got abstinent everything changed. I began driving over an hour to my three meetings per week, getting up early to do quiet time and talk to my sponsor. Weight started melting off my body, and I reached my right size of 160 pounds (about 73 kilos). I was exhausted all the time and wasn’t the most positive person to be around. I was cranky and hungry and didn’t want to be bothered. I’d go to work, come home, watch three to four hours of a show on Netflix, and be in bed by 8:30 each night. As I stayed abstinent and worked the tools and AWOL (A Way of Life, a study of the Twelve Steps), it became clear that my relationship with my boyfriend wasn’t going to work, so I broke up with him and moved out with 90 days of abstinence. 

It hurt a lot. This was the first real relationship I had ever had. He wrote me love poems and songs. We went on real dates, traveled and I grew close to his family. He called me beautiful and told me that he loved me. For this former 250-pound (about 113 kilos) girl, that was all I ever wanted. FA and my sponsor supported me through this heartbreak. I was on the phone multiple times per day with my sponsor for a few days immediately following the break-up.

Once we broke up I stayed single for a year per a gentle suggestion from my sponsor. I am not one of those food addicts that fought this. I had no idea how to date, plus, who would want to date me? My relationship history was prolonged one-night stands with men I met drunk in bars and my ex-boyfriend. I had never dated before and I was 29 years old. 

With almost two and a-half years of abstinence, my sponsor asked me what I wanted. Did I want to be married? Did I want children? I answered, “Well, yes, of course,” so she explained that I’m going to have to start taking some action. So I did what young people do these days and downloaded some dating apps. What an ego boost! I put the best pictures I could find, crafted a witty bio, and I was off to meet my man. This was going to be a cinch, I thought. So I began chatting away with dozens of guys.

I might interject here and say that I did not talk about this with my sponsor as in-depth as I now do. And it wasn’t blatant dishonesty, I really thought I was fine and knew what I was doing. Let the record show that I went on a date with a guy who I knew was moving across the country in a week. I even dated a guy who said he wasn’t looking for a relationship. I dated a guy for two months who said rude things and practically handed me red flags, but he was good looking and at least semi-interested in me. Wasn’t that enough?

I have really seen my fear, doubt, and insecurity blossom as I begin this chapter of my life. I heard someone with long term recovery say the first year of abstinence is getting the food in place and the second year is getting through the nuances of abstinence. Well, I’m now between the second and third year and the description that’s coming to me is settling into an abstinent life. My FA program feels solid most days. I work the tools, stay abstinent, and do service. I travel to conventions and service-support weekends. I have just completed my second AWOL and I get on my knees in the morning and at night. All this is great. However, I see now more than ever how much I need God in my life. 

I’m at that stage where everyone around me is getting married and having babies. My social media news feeds are bombarded. At first, I shrugged it off, but if I’m being honest, it’s not easy. I’m six months into a new, very intense, difficult job which has revealed its own set of fear, doubt, and insecurity. I finally feel like a grown up and I want to retreat to my room, shut the door, and cry. But I know if I let this fester, it will turn into retreating to my room, shutting the door, and crying, while shoveling my face with heinous concoctions of food as my mouth burns and stings, but I just shovel faster. This disease had me by the throat when I got abstinent. I could not stop eating. 

Thankfully, this program has given me a slew of women who got abstinent young and are now married with children. I’m so glad they’re willing to share their experience with me. However, until this point I’ve taken that attitude of “well that’s been your experience, mine will probably be different.” Guess what? It’s nearly identical. Shocker of the century, I know. As my sponsor gently reminds me, I had to learn it for myself. 

The truth is that there’s a large piece of me that still feels so broken and unlovable. That no man is ever going to want me enough to honestly pursue me, so I should take what I can get and be satisfied. This feeling has resulted in crying when I share at meetings, deep feelings of loneliness, and wanting to withdraw. I’ve also realized that even if everyone under the sun called me beautiful inside and out, it wouldn’t matter until I soften my heart and let God in. I’m grateful for the single girlfriends I have in FA. If only they lived where I do! But I am reminded that are just a phone call away. I know with the love of God and my fellows, that I will eventually love myself enough to let another person in. And it will be in God’s time not mine. I just ask to be ready for whatever He has in store. 

 

This story was originally published in the Connection Magazine. Subscribe to the Connection Magazine for more stories of recovery. Or submit your own story of recovery.