A Story of Recovery:

Running from the Problem


When I first joined FA, I could not relate to anything I heard. I wasn’t an addict, I wasn’t 300 pounds, and I didn’t eat everything in sight. And, I was embarrassed that I had to go to a support group for fat people! However, the more I sat in the FA meetings and heard people share, the more I began to learn about the many manifestations of this disease we call food addiction.

The first way my disease showed up was in my family. I was born to a family of food addicts. Food was love; it was everywhere. Weight was a daily topic of conversation, and I was taught that I’d never be able to eat everything I wanted. My mom routinely told me that if she ever came back in another life, her only wish would be to eat whatever she wanted to eat and stay thin.

When I was about 13, I learned the benefits of exercise. I was the only female in my family who wasn’t obese, and I was determined to keep it that way. I began doing workout upon workout, taping the 20-Minute Workout three times in a row on a 60-minute tape so I could do all three sessions. As an addict, one is never enough, whether it is exercise or food.

When I was 18, I started on what my mother would call a “health kick.” I found out that my cholesterol was high, and since my dad had died when I was ten, I figured it was genetic. At the doctor’s advice, I stopped eating proteins that had cholesterol. I flirted with being a vegetarian and took every opportunity I could to preach to my family about their unhealthy eating habits. I continued exercising, taking aerobics classes, and running. I was very interested in any new fitness exercise programs that came on TV.

I continued to exercise and make healthy food choices. During high school, I used bulimia to make sure my binges didn’t show up on my body and Dexatrim pills to control my appetite. But I must have been doing an awful lot of “healthy eating,” because my weight was climbing, slowly but steadily.

When I married at age 25, I was 150 pounds. I was no longer exercising or eating healthy simply for a healthy lifestyle. I began to abuse it. I wanted to eat flour/sugar items, and my husband and I had two incomes and no kids. We went out to eat a lot, and I got sloppy with my eating. I began to eat more and more. The weight really started showing up. By 1999, I was 175 pounds.

Then I got to almost 200 pounds, but I never stopped exercising. I also never stopped my addictive eating. It is staggering to think of all the calories I must have been consuming in order to keep my weight upwards of 180 pounds, when I did at least an hour of aerobic activity a day.

Eating For Two

When I became pregnant at age 33, my food addiction reached new heights. I now had a license to eat. Everyone around me told me I was eating for two. In reality, I was eating for many more than two. I ballooned from 180 to 239 in nine short months. But I still didn’t think I had a problem. I was just pregnant. While I was pregnant, I never stopped exercising, contrary to my doctor’s advice. It was all about me. In one year, I got back down to 180. (I am only 5’4” tall). I was sure I didn’t have a problem. After all, I had lost weight.

With my second baby, I ballooned up to 243 pounds in an even shorter amount of time. When this baby was seven months old, I had only been able to get down to 200 pounds. I was really feeling desperate and depressed. But I was still abusing my heavy body with very strenuous exercise. Finally my body couldn’t take it anymore and a ligament in my knee snapped like a rubber band.

That was my G.O.D. (gift of desperation), and the end of my eating career.  It took my not being able to walk to get me in the door of my first meeting. It took grave measures to show me that I was powerless. It was clear I could no longer use exercise to control my eating, since I could no longer walk.

I gave away 75 pounds in eight months. I have been living in a 132-pound body for two-and-a-half years. The benefits of my recovery go much farther than the physical, however.

Eight months after coming into program, I was able to move across the country with two small children and a cat—abstinently. Then my sponsor helped me deal with my mother, who was a very difficult person for me. She was always an addict of sorts, and it hurt me to watch her destroying herself. But Program allowed me to show up. My sponsor helped me draw boundaries so I could take my children to visit their grandma at least once a month. Lucky I did, because she passed away only one year after I moved within driving distance of her house. I was able to visit her in the hospital four out of the seven days she was there before she made her transition. I showed up at her funeral—abstinently.

I have been able to care for my two young children a week or two a month as a single parent while my husband travels for his work—abstinently.

As I write this, I am in Africa where, guess what? I’m eating abstinently.

Ultimately, this program has taught me to take care of myself by being kind. After almost a year of physical therapy, I will never be able to run in a race again. I take a yoga class once a week. I do not punish myself with exercise and starvation. I nourish myself with three weighed and measured meals a day. I am very grateful to the FA program, fellowship, and my HP for allowing me to evolve spiritually, which is all I’ve ever wanted.

I look forward to continuing my rewarding and exciting journey in FA and I wish you the blessings of abstinence.

 

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.