Posts about Recovery

Being Willing to Go to Any Lengths

I was living in Australia, abstinent in FA for six months and had started attending my first live AWOL (A Way of Life, a closed study of the Twelve Steps) when I travelled to Brazil with my husband to visit family. I had taken my sponsor’s suggestion and planned the trip for just ten days so that I would not miss two sessions in a row and as the AWOL was going to close the day after I was due back from the trip. Arriving at the airport in Brazil on the day of my return, I realized I had the departure time wrong. My flight was taking off in 20 minutes! The gate had already closed and there was nothing they could do: I had missed my flight.  It was bad enough that I would have to buy another ticket, but worse than that, there was no flight available... Continue Reading

 


 

Running The Gauntlet

My partner had an operation; it was routine. The last time he had surgery was over 30 years ago, before I came to program. It was for cancer and the chance of him living 5 years was 20%. My reaction to that time was to use food to numb myself. I gained over 25 pounds in the ten weeks he was recovering. Fast forward to today and the surgery was successful, however, the recovery was not. Fours days post-surgery he was rushed by ambulance back to the Emergency Department. He spent 13 hours in the ED before being admitted back into the hospital. Fear, doubt, and insecurity entered my thinking and the urge to eat was whispering, but I was focused on helping my partner. At 10:30 p.m. he was finally settling into a hospital bed and I left for home, alone. I was tired, emotionally drained, and stressed; the... Continue Reading

 


 

The Power Behind Us

I was in Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) for two years when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. Thankfully, I was six months abstinent at the time. When the doctor said the words no one ever wants to hear, I was able to be strong and think clearly. I was able to hear the doctor’s directions about the next steps my husband would need to take. My husband told me later that he had shut down the minute the doctor told him he had cancer. Because I didn’t have flour and sugar in my system, I was able to take mental and physical notes about what the doctor said. My husband broke down, but my Higher Power gave me the ability to be the strong one. Later, I called my sponsor to talk about the bad news we had just received. I broke down crying to her and asked... Continue Reading

 


 

Living My Right Life

I am a girl who spent the majority of my life putting wrappers in my bed, bags, car and even my own underpants to sneak food past my parents every night. I am also a girl who got my 90 days in FA this past Tuesday. I am a nineteen-year old college student who was, until mid-November, a tortured food addict. In FA we say that food addiction is a progressive disease; it certainly is with me; I gained over 100 pounds in under two years. This obviously took a great toll on my body; as I was nearing 250 pounds I felt the muscles in my back spasm and clench walking to the mailbox. Sweat constantly dripped down my back, legs and face, which I found mortifying. Perhaps the worst pain was that of my parents watching me physically and emotionally deteriorate before their eyes. I couldn’t fit into any of... Continue Reading

 


 

Last Throw of the Dice

I lay strapped down on the operating table and looked up at the bright lamps and masked faces above me. In preparation for the major surgery I would undergo, I had been given no food for several days to clean out my gastro-intestinal system, and I was pumped full of antibiotics and sedatives. I was trembling uncontrollably and kept hearing my parents’ voices when they phoned me the night before. “Don’t do it!” they begged. “There must be some other way for you to lose weight.” But nothing would stop me now! I was finally going to have the weight-loss surgery for which I had waited so long. My last thought as the anesthetic sent me spiraling down into a whirlpool of darkness was, “I don’t care if I die. I can’t go on living like this.” I was 33 years old, with a husband and three small children, and... Continue Reading