A Story of Recovery:

The Greatest Gift


Twelve years ago, I had no idea how to eat without bingeing and purging; I didn’t trust food or myself. Staying in a hotel and traveling with others was a nightmare. Sometimes I’d feel trapped, stuck in a binge that I couldn’t stop and unable to purge because the hotel-room toilet was impossible to use without others knowing what I was doing. Desperate, I would make an excuse to go to the lobby and find a more secluded bathroom. I’d also drink excessively and blame alcohol for my vomiting. My solutions always involved multiple lies and incredible shame. Sometimes I’d feel temporary relief and comfort, but I always woke up the next day with fear and a frantic need to stop my obsessive eating.

There were times when I’d gather the “perfect” binge foods and book a hotel room. I’d get the most inexpensive room possible, the only requirement being a functioning toilet. The room was inexpensive, but I put no restrictions on the food. I thought I would feel safe, free, and content. Inevitably, I felt hopeless and full of shame.

The last time I traveled, I didn’t have to lock the door to the bathroom once. I also haven’t had to flush the toilet after a purge, wondering whom I might awaken or disturb. Recovery helps me consider others, be it my roommate who is trying to sleep, or the planet in the middle of a drought.

I followed my mom into FA after watching her carefully for two years. Aside from birth, the greatest gift she has given me has been introducing me to FA.

 

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.