Stories of Recovery


These stories were originally published in the Connection, FA's monthly magazine written by food addicts, for food addicts. Each post shares a different author's perspective. Visit this page often to read more experience, strength, and hope about recovery in FA. To get the newest issue of Connection Magazine sent directly to your mailbox or inbox, click here to subscribe to the Connection.

Chipping Off the Old Block

I was sitting at home having an internal argument with myself about whether to attend the Diabetes Expo in my city, yet again. I had been diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes a few years earlier and had attended the expo a few times in the past.  I never really felt that I got much out of it, other than a few freebies and samples. For some reason (I now say it was God whispering in my ear), I decided to go. As usual, I didn’t feel I got a whole lot out of it until I happened upon a table with some banners behind that said, “Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous.”  It immediately piqued my curiosity, because my sisters and I had just been having a conversation about being addicted to sugar. We were having this discussion while we consumed large quantities of flour and sugar items. I saw that... Continue Reading

 


 

I became bulimic at age 13. At 20, I felt as though my life was over.

As a child, I was chubby and suffered from extreme fear, doubt, and insecurity. I have a history of sexual abuse by my father, but that isn’t why I ate the way I did. What I have learned is that no one is to blame for my food addiction. I have a disease that is physical, mental, and spiritual; and it led me down a path of self destruction. Adolescence was hard for me. I lived in books and films and spent a lot of time eating at the movies and in front of the television set. I just wanted to drift away and feel good all the time. I “became” characters from the books I read and the movies I saw; my biggest obsession was Marilyn Monroe. I always felt fat and “less than”, except when I was caught up in a role. I became bulimic at age 13.... Continue Reading

 


 

Humbling Hike

I have come to like hiking in the mountains. It is no longer an obsessed struggle against my body weight in a search for a better body feeling, or a desire for a “legal” intake of food in order to reward an excess amount of exercise. In abstinence, hiking for me is getting into a rhythm of breathing and slow, rhythmic walking. It is almost meditative. On this particular day in early September, it had been snowing for the first time in the mountains, where I spent my vacation. I decided to do a medium-sized hiking tour to a mountain peak, which can be reached over a long, stretched trail on a crest, providing a gorgeous view over the alps. I had packed my weighed and measured lunch and planned to eat it upon arrival in the lobby of a restaurant on top of the mountain. I walked slowly, enjoying... Continue Reading

 


 

The Fall “Trifecta” of Food

September I always loved school. I loved learning, and shopping for all the new school clothes. But I hated having to buy clothes in sizes that were bigger than last year. When I became a teacher, it was very depressing trying to find anything to wear because I continued to get bigger and bigger. It was the perfect month to “start a new diet”—a fresh school year, and a fresh start at my attempt to lose weight. October Halloween is the first of the year’s events that I think of as the food addict’s “Trifecta,” a term used in horseracing in which a bettor wins by selecting the first three finishers of a race in the correct order of finish. Halloween has always been a favorite holiday for me, not only because of the sweets. I love disguises and costumes, but I could never fit into any of the good-looking costumes... Continue Reading

 


 

Now the Living is Easy

Summer. Season of fun, right? At a little over 5’3″ tall and at least 170 pounds, summer fun was not as simple as all that. There was always the question of what to wear, for instance. In New England, summers are hot and sticky. If I decided to dress appropriately for the weather, I had to endure the pain of my thighs rubbing together, or walk like a penguin to keep them apart. If I couldn’t face the pain or the penguin walk, I had to decide between my black jeans, my dark blue jeans, or my dark green jeans. No matter what I chose to wear from the waist down, I always wore the same huge, black, tattered T-shirt that made me feel thin as it billowed around me. Swimming was its own story, of course. To wear a bathing suit or not? I lived in an area where... Continue Reading