A Story of Recovery:

Family Drama


When I came into FA in Feb 2007, I was 205 pounds. I didn’t have any “family drama” because I had moved far away from my family. What I didn’t realize was that the drama still existed in my mind and in my heart. Until I could make peace with my family members and accept them for what they were, I would continue to eat.

I grew up in a house where I was told all sorts of things about my weight and appearance. I was told that I was big-boned and curvy, and that I had fat people on both sides of the family. I was told that I was always going to have to watch every single thing I put into my mouth, that our family doesn’t have fast metabolisms, and that I would never look like one of those skinny toothpick girls.

I was the oldest of four children, and my father died when I was ten. My childhood was soon over, and I began what would be a long career of caretaking. My mother began to get heavier and heavier over the years as the burden of raising four children on her own got her more and more depressed.

I do not have any memories of feeling cherished as a child. I didn’t even know people wanted to have children on purpose until I was 23 years old! I had always felt like an unwanted burden. For this reason, I never wanted to have a child because I thought for sure I’d ruin him or her.

Although I moved away from my mother and siblings when I was 23, my life was far from perfect. I married a wonderful man and had everything my heart desired, but I still ate addictively. I was 150 pounds on my wedding day; five years later I weighed 188.

When I got pregnant, I ballooned up to 239 pounds with the first child, and 243 with the second. I was so miserable and overwhelmed, caring for two babies. Little did I know that I was an emotional eater. After baby #2, I knew I just could not get below 200 pounds on my own. A friend brought me into FA, and to this day I am grateful to her. The weight melted off in eight months, and my life began to change.

Now I see that God had a plan. After I lost the weight (I was down to 132 pounds), I moved back to within driving distance of my family of origin. I could now drive my children to visit their grandmother. It was difficult, but having a program allowed me to “suit up and show up.” I realized I wanted my kids to have a relationship with their grandma, and that it wasn’t all about me. My baggage with my mom had nothing to do with my kids. Thank goodness we went to visit her often, because she passed away a year after we moved back.

I will always be grateful to my sponsor, my program, and my Higher Power for allowing me to pursue a relationship with my mother for the sake of my children. Now I have cherished photos and videos of her with my kids that will help them remember their grandma and how much she loved them. And boy, did she love them!

If I had still been in the food, I would not have been able to accept my mom on her terms and realize that she was just a sick person who was not in recovery. When she lay dying in the hospital, I was able to show up. I had peace because I had the precious gift of abstinence. Abstinence gave me the clarity to be present.

Because I was abstinent, I was able to convince my sister not to have the funeral on the afternoon of Halloween (!) and to hold it the next Saturday morning when more people could attend and the traffic wouldn’t be so bad. Because I was abstinent, I am able to remember the funeral and all the wonderful people who came to show support for my family. Because I am abstinent, I can now help my granddad through a difficult financial situation.

When I was in the food, I knew it all and didn’t need anyone’s help. My answer for dealing with difficult people was to cut them out of my life and eat more than my share. This program gives me the strength I need to show up for people in my life.  My abstinence allows me to act with integrity during difficult situations. I am able to ask for help when I need it. I am open to advice. Abstinence does not make my family of origin any better behaved, but it does allow me to show love and compassion and to be okay with loving them.

 

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.