Privilege of Recovery

I came to FA nearly 20 years ago, at age 47, weighing 218 pounds. I weighed more than many football players. I was miserable, angry, and hopeless. I felt like a white flag was billowing over my head that everyone could interpret as “I give up.”

I desperately wanted to lose weight, but I just couldn’t do it. I was powerless when it came to food. Every day I would start by promising myself that I would not eat that day, but I couldn’t even leave the house without overeating. At the breakfast table, I would have one flour product with a cup of coffee and end up eating everything on the table before I even left for work. I had at least one box of hard candy in my car “just in case” and a few boxes at my desk at work. My work area always had food around it. My coworkers were always bringing food and edible goodies into the office for special events. I wanted to be supportive and help them celebrate, so I ate. Usually, when I offered to clean up after these social affairs, any leftovers would end up on my desk. 

After work, I had to make dinner for the family. I was very conscientious about being a good cook. I felt the need to sample and taste everything as I prepared the meal. One day at dinner time, I was talking to a friend on the phone. During that conversation, I finished cooking an entire dish for four. While still chatting, I ate the family’s meal, washed the pot, and began to cook it all over again. Of course, when dinner time came, I sat down with the family and ate again.

As a good housewife, I would offer to clean up after every meal, which meant that I could eat all the food that my children or husband left on their plates. After dinner, we would watch TV. There was no point in watching TV without snacks, which for me could easily mean eating a pound of crunchy food and washing it down with diet soda. When I had guests or went to social events I was hyper-focused on food; what to make, how to bake it, what to bring, and how to provide huge quantities. It was all about food and more food.

Food was the reason I would get out of bed in the morning, especially if there were any delicious items left in the refrigerator from the previous day. Once I started eating, I couldn’t stop. I had eating buddies I would meet for coffee and a chat, preferably in a buffet-style restaurant. I would eat until I was physically sick. My story included binge eating and purging. I was filled with shame and self-loathing after I did both of these activities, but it never stopped me. 

On some level, I started realizing that something was wrong. I needed to stop eating so much and stop bingeing and purging, but I could not stop. 

I visited my doctor with a story that my thyroid was probably not working even though my lab test levels were normal. I asked him to prescribe thyroid hormones as I thought my metabolism must be sluggish. The real insanity of this request is that, as a nurse, I knew better. I knew what I was asking was dangerous, even life-threatening. In all respects, when it came to food, my behavior was insane. I wanted to lose weight so badly. I just didn’t want to stop eating.

Yet when I came into FA and heard the term “food addict,” I was appalled. It seemed so over the top, excessive. I would tell other FA fellows that I didn’t think I was a food addict. I didn’t realize my own dishonesty. However, at my very first FA meeting, I did start feeling the seeds of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I might get under 200 pounds. That was my goal. If I could just achieve that goal, I thought I could continue to eat the way I wanted. 

In my first month, I lost 17 pounds. I went from 218 to 201 pounds. That was a miracle and yet somewhat of a disappointment, as my goal was just to be under 200 pounds. I felt that if I stayed for another month, I could attain my goal and then leave the program. The next month, I lost 14 pounds and I felt that I had arrived. For the first time in a very long time, I bought a dress for a family wedding off the rack, a size 16. I thought surely my sponsor would think that I was now in a right-sized body, but she didn’t.

My road to recovery has been slow. I gradually became aware of my dishonesty, denial about my food addiction, lack of humility, and self-centeredness. Something changed after my second month. I started getting cautiously optimistic. I started listening more at meetings and calling people with long-term abstinence. I started raising my hand to read at meetings and paying closer attention to what I read. I am not sure why or how, but I wanted to work this program more than I wanted to eat.

Today, the most important thing in my life is protecting my recovery. My recovery must come first, family is second, and work is third. Without recovery, I would probably go back to eating and might lose the other things in my life. Today, I know deep down that I am a food addict who, one day at a time, is blessed with an abstinent day provided I follow my food plan, work the tools of the FA program, and live the Twelve Steps.

On my first day in FA, I asked my sponsor how long I would have to do this. Her answer was, “Just do it for today and call me tomorrow morning.” I also know now that I do not “have” to do this program, I “get” to do it. Recovery is a privilege.