A Story of Recovery:

Toppling the Tyrant

I heard of FA from a friend, who did not have anything good to say about it. It didn’t even matter what she said about FA, because it was of no interest to me. I had come to the profound and somewhat freeing revelation that I would be fat for the rest of my life. The revelation came when I was looking at a family photo. The men, women, and children were all big in the same way.

Every time I attempted to control my eating, it went crazy. When I decided to stop dieting, I told myself that not trying to change was good for me. I wondered what was so wrong with me anyway. I was a nice person. I held down a job and did lots of charity work. I had friends and family who loved me, so what was the problem, really? Sure I hated myself and constantly sabotaged my relationships because I knew, for a fact, that no one would ever love me. But I thought there were some things I was just going to have to live with.

I am not sure what caused me to go to an FA meeting. I guess I figured I had nothing to lose. Now that I was going to be fat forever, I thought there was no harm in checking it out.

At the meeting, a man talked about how he had almost caused a car accident because he was trying to pick up a sweet that had fallen on the floor. I realized that I had done that! Once I almost killed my two sleeping friends because I was trying to hide my food from them while I was driving. Addiction! This was the piece of the puzzle I had never heard in all my years of struggle. One is too many and a thousand not enough. It was true; when I have a little, my brain will not leave me alone until I eat more and more. It turns out that it has not been a moral failing of mine that I could not stop eating; I just could not stop eating. I suddenly saw the light of my higher power leading the way. I saw that I am powerless over my eating, and the more I try to control it, the worse my whole life becomes.

At that first meeting I got a sponsor. I also got a food plan, and, by the grace of God, the willingness to follow it. I left the meeting in a fog, and I called the friend who had complained to me about FA. I called her after every meeting I went to for the first three months. I shared with her (complained about!) my struggles with how hard it was to stay on the plan, how devastating it was when my first sponsor fired me after four days, and about all those calls we had to make every day.

It was not easy, but I held on and did not give in to my tyrant addiction when it chattered in my ear that “this feeling will never change,” that I had better “do something,” or that I “deserved to eat.” I got through each day, one hour at a time, without eating flour or sugar. There was sanity to be found, and all I had to do was follow the plan, make my calls, go to meetings, tell the truth, and work the Steps. I found myself on the broad highway of recovery, with many fellow travelers.

It is funny how others see the change in us before we do. My anti-FA friend was watching me closely and saw me transform. She saw not just the weight loss, but she noticed the inside work, too. She watched me take responsibility for my life and she found that attractive. Turns out that all those calls to her were part of my Twelve-Step work! Now my friend is abstinent and is enjoying recovery. Who knew that God could even put complaining to good use!