A Story of Recovery:
The Strength To Grow
My insanity around food began at an early age. The flour and sugar products were my specialty, and since my family owned a bakery where I spent many hours of my young life, I didn’t have to work very hard to get my favorite sweets. My metabolism ran high, and I was always running, skating, swimming or climbing trees, so the fat didn’t stick and I couldn’t understand why my obese mother and brother couldn’t just stop eating so much and slim down. Being judgmental began at an early age indeed.
As I became a teenager, my attraction to the quantities and sweets grew along with me. However, being short made it even harder because only a few pounds made me feel really huge. Those 5 or 10 pounds weighed heavily on my ego. That feeling of “less than” was pervasive in every area of my life. If I was successful at something in school or in my extra curricular activities, I tended to rest on my laurels rather than continue to build and strengthen my skills. If I didn’t get chosen for a role in the play, or first-string cheerleader, or exchange student, I just gave up and asked myself, “Why bother trying anymore?” Negativity often won out over any positive thinking I might have had.
Nothing was enough. I was not popular enough, pretty enough, smart enough, interesting enough, and the food was always there to soothe my feelings of inadequacy. Even the bakery products my family produced at our shop weren’t enough to keep me happy. If I had an extra quarter in my pocket, I’d be up the street to Andy’s Variety buying the cheapest junk food in cellophane he had to offer and feeling guilty as I scarfed it down before returning to our store.
From my teen years through my forties I explored every diet, weight loss program and pill out there. I kept losing the same pounds over and over, only to gain them back plus lots more. In my mid forties I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure and rising cholesterol numbers. I struggled through my forties and fifties, getting sicker and taking more pills every year. By the time I was 59 I was downing 8 pills a day for the diabetes, blood pressure and cholesterol and they were all still out of control. I weighed in at close to 200 pounds. Everything hurt and I was having trouble going up and down stairs and turning over in bed. I’d given up all the healthy foods and was living on processed junk most of the time. Nothing even tasted good to me. That elusive “hit” wasn’t happening.
I found FA in late November. It took me 6 months to actually be willing to find a local meeting because the therapist who told me about FA also told me that no flour or sugar was allowed. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how I could live without the two food groups that I had been so in love with for decades.
From the very first meeting I attended, I jumped into program with both feet, knowing I had found the answer to my prayers. Within a few weeks I was willing to put aside my fears and look for a long-distance sponsor. From where I live in Maine, it’s a two-and-a-half-hour trip to the Boston area, so I certainly balked when this total stranger asked me if I was willing to make that drive to meet her at a Saturday morning. Going against all sense of reason, I found myself saying yes, just once, to meet her and check out this huge FA meeting. On the way to the meeting, I got lost, but my Higher Power was with me. In my state of panic, I managed to pull over and call my son back in Maine (there was no GPS yet). He guided me via cell phone, asking the name of the streets I was near, and said, “Mom, you are only 1 mile from the hospital”. Using his computer and mapping skills, he helped to guide me, and I arrived at the meeting on time.
It was a shock to walk into that meeting and feast my eyes on well over 100 FA fellows happily conversing. One tall, slender woman saw my “deer in the headlights” look, sat me down and shared her story and photos with me. That was all it took. For the next 3 1/2 years I drove with others every Saturday morning to that beautiful meeting. The conversations in that car still help me with decisions I make today. Most of those car pool fellows are still working a strong program. How grateful I am that I was willing to get up at 4:30 on a Saturday morning week after week to strengthen my recovery.
It happened that I reached my 90 days on a Saturday morning. My sponsor was pushing me to get up to share. The room was so large that a microphone and podium were needed for sharing. As I made my way to the front of the room my knees shook along with my hands, and my brain felt like mush. My sponsor told me to just ask “God” for help and the words will come. All the way to the front I kept saying those words, “God, please help me say the right words.”
When I got to the mike and looked at the crowd I felt a wave of courage from all those wonderful mentors who had been giving me support during the last 90 days.
“My name is Marina and I am a food addict,” came out very clearly with no wobbles, “and this is my 90th day.” There was a collective sigh from the fellows in those seats. That sigh was full of love, support and hope. All the fear and nervousness left my body and I was able to tell the story of my first 3 months honestly, clearly and without fear.
The years have passed, 80 pounds (36.3 kilos) have stayed off my body, my health has been renewed and the lessons I learned at that meeting, in my car pool, on phone conversations and at all my other meetings continue to help me grow in recovery. I get to pass on the lessons I learned in my first 90 days every time I pick up the phone, talk to a sponsee, share from the front of the room or take on a new service position, which always makes my knees shake and my hands tremble at first.
If I had allowed fear to keep me from making that trip to Boston all those years ago, I don’t know if I would have gained the experience, strength and hope that I continue to enjoy 13 years later. Our meetings here in the frozen north have continued to grow and strengthen, so I no longer make that weekly trip to MA, but when I go to an EAI function or a Convention and I see those same fellows looking so happy and healthy, and remember how they unselfishly guided me to find the courage and strength to grow, I know that I made the right choice to get out of my comfort zone and head into an unknown situation. That courage saved my life.