A Story of Recovery:
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 overweight; people referred to me as “sturdy.”
I dieted all through Jr. High school, and when walking down the street after school one day, I overheard a boy I had a crush on call me “thunder thighs.” I was convinced that my fate was sealed. When I went away to college, I always felt “less-than,” both socially and academically. I was sure that if I just had the right clothes and looked “just so,” I would be accepted.
After two years of college, at 19 years old, I met the man I would marry. We had only known each other for seven months. I loved him, and I was sure this would be my opportunity, my one chance at love.
When I became pregnant three years later, I was delighted, and used it as an excuse to eat everything I wanted!” I gained 60 pounds. The happiest moment of my life was when my beautiful son was born. When I got on the scale before leaving the hospital, I was horrified to discover that I only had lost exactly 6 pounds 5 ounces of baby! I left wearing my maternity dress and continued to wear maternity clothes for months after. I ate a lot of carbohydrates and sugar.
I struggled with that 60 pounds for years. I tried every diet I could find and would stick with it for no more than a month before I was eating again, only to gain a few more pounds in the process. Over the years, I spent lots of money on clothes, convincing myself that maybe no one would notice my size if I “looked good.”
The more I tried to diet, the more I failed, and the more I hated myself. What was wrong with me? Why did I keep eating? The years passed, and I was divorced and had several other relationships. I discovered alcohol and found that it took the edge off. For years I was convinced that I could have one glass on a Saturday night because, after all, I wasn’t an alcoholic. My “ah-ha” moment came when I realized that although I did not really have a problem with alcohol, every time I drank, I would eat. It was the sugar!
After I hit 200 pounds I stopped weighing myself. I could barely climb the stairs. I had knee surgery because of arthritis, which the orthopedic surgeon stated was likely from all the weight I was carrying on my 5’ 3” frame. In desperation, I asked a friend at work how she was losing weight, and she told me about FA. Two nights later, I attended my first meeting. I got a sponsor that night,
My journey has not been a smooth one. I jumped into FA with lots of desperation and lost 85 pounds the first year. The physical recovery was easy for me. I went to my meetings, called my sponsor, made my calls, wrote down my food, and took my quiet time. God was my Higher Power, but I continued to think I was in control.
Summer arrived, and I was wearing smaller clothes. I was getting restless, thinking that I could certainly do this myself. I kept the weight off for about two years, drifting in and out of FA, still believing that I was in control. Each time I left, I would gain some weight. I prayed, I bargained, I made daily promises to my Higher Power to not eat. At the end of each day, I went to bed disgusted, discouraged, and feeling sick, but never surrendering, never letting go of my will. I thought I was different from the rest of FA people, because after all, I thought, I didn’t go through the drive-ins for fast food. I went to Whole Foods.
I was visiting my son, daughter-in-law, and my sweet 4-year old granddaughter. She is the love of my life and calls me Aba. We were playing on her bed, and she looked at me and suddenly exclaimed, “Aba, you’re fat! Your bum is fat, your arms are fat (she poked them with her little fingers), and your tummy is fat!” I would have crawled under the bed if I had fit. I hung my head in shame, but at that moment felt some gentle hands on my shoulders and the awareness that it was time for me to surrender to my disease and my Higher Power. This was my wake-up call. I called my former sponsor the next day and am grateful that she had time to take me back.
Something has changed in me. I have finally accepted the fact that after 60-plus years of struggling with my food and weight, I cannot do this alone. I have always had God in my life, but today I know that He is in charge. I came to FA to lose weight, but as my journey continues, I understand that this disease really is three-fold: physical, emotional, and spiritual. I used to believe that freedom meant eating anything I wanted; now I know that freedom for me means having structure and gentle discipline around my food. Today I put my food on the scale and report it to my sponsor, but recovery is so much more than just food. Every day, I turn my life and my stubborn will over to my Higher Power and ask for the willingness to remain abstinent for just that day. If I use my tools, peace and serenity are mine, and I am comfortable in my own skin.
I now have two beautiful grandchildren and am grateful that I can not only get down on the floor and play with them, but I can get back up! I am looking forward to beginning an AWOL soon, to study the Twelve Steps. I am part of a fellowship of men and women who understand what I do. I am grateful to know that there is a name for what I am: A food addict.