A Story of Recovery:

Planting a Seed

My father-in-law has six siblings. He and another sibling are in AA, and the rest are active alcoholics. He has a sister who is morbidly obese. His sister hasn’t left the house all summer, since she’s becoming more and more immobile and her panic attacks are increasing daily.

During our visit, the siblings had a meeting to discuss and plan an intervention for the sister. They weren’t planning an addiction intervention (since the active addicts don’t believe in addiction), but a medical intervention that would involve a rehab.

I happened to be in the room when the actual intervention was taking place with some of the family. But, since I knew that the siblings don’t recognize food addiction, I was reluctant to open my mouth because I’ve only been part of the family for five years and I didn’t want to overstep my bounds.

My heart broke, seeing my wife’s aunt in a sofa chair, huge and hopeless. I saw myself in her. She kept refusing all offers that were thrown at her as far as getting medical help. I just kept praying: “God if you want me to say something, please show me.” I waited and waited and then it occurred to me that I could not stay quiet. How could I hold on to information that could save her life as it did mine?

So in front of everyone, I shared with her how hopeless and desperate I once was, that I too suffered from depression and panic and anxiety attacks, and that I stopped having the desire to show up for life. I also shared that I was completely owned by food, thought about it morning, noon, and night, and that no matter how hard I tried to stop eating, I simply couldn’t.

She listened intently as I talked, and I knew she could relate the way one food addict can relate to another. I don’t know if she’ll come into FA, but a seed was planted. The rest is up to God.

The AA Big Book talks about us being “uniquely useful” to other addicts, and boy did I feel useful that weekend. I also felt vulnerable and exposed around my family for the rest of the weekend from sharing so openly in front of them. But one of the many gifts I’ve received from joining FA is that I’ve learned that it’s not all about me. So what if I feel a bit raw? If I can help another person not suffer a day at a time from this horrible disease of food addiction, then it’s worth being uncomfortable. I’m sure when I was eating addictively, I kept people at bay, not allowing them to really get to know me.  No wonder I felt so lonely!