September 2023: What You Focus on Grows. Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA)

FA Stories of Recovery from Food Addiction

September 2023 $2.50

What You Focus On Grows

September 2023

Columns Qualification: Complete Surrender. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 First 90 Days: Raising My Hand. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .4 No Matter What: Driving Toward Recovery. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .16 Lighten Up: Bikini?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .17

Features Perfectly Imperfect. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 Pride Goeth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 My True Colors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .10 One Step Closer to Freedom. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .12 Filling God’s Backpack. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .14

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Share your story & artwork If you have 90 days of continuous abstinence in FA, connection invites you to share your experience, strength, and hope with us. E-mail submissions to articles@foodaddicts.org or art@foodaddicts.org

Glossary of Terms FA: Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous AA: Alcoholics Anonymous AWOL: A Way of Life, a study of the Twelve Steps Big Book: Alcoholics Anonymous 1 Stone = 14 pounds 1 Kilo = approx. 2.2 pounds Copyright © 2023 Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous 400 W. Cummings Park, Suite 1700 Woburn, MA 01801-6572

Qualification

Complete Surrender

I

have always had a problem with food.

For most of my life, I either starved myself or binged to the point of feeling sick.

At a young age, I learned to sneak food and hide the evidence. I was teased about being fat, which terrified me because I didn't want to end up like my obese mother.

In seventh grade, I weighed 135 pounds and was in a normal-sized body. Yet when I looked in the mirror, I saw a fat person. I always based my happiness on how much I weighed. Even when I was 114 pounds, I still felt as if I did not belong, and I was not comfortable in my own skin. I was too embarrassed to buy diet pills, so I stole them from the drugstore. Then I started taking illegal diet pills, which helped me drop 21 pounds in high school.

Near the end of my senior year, I was drinking and using drugs to numb myself and escape from reality into oblivion. That continued for many years, but I managed to maintain my weight until I went into recovery from drugs and alcohol at age 22. Then my weight started to creep up. I was still maintaining some control, but I was bingeing and starving myself. I started taking pain pills for a legitimate reason, but quickly connection

started to abuse them. I learned that if I took the pills, I didn’t eat much and I was able to drop some weight.

When I turned 27, I got pregnant and used that as a green light for the large amounts of food I consumed. I ate like there was no tomorrow. I got up to 199 pounds but was able to lose weight later, with the help of pain pills, which helped me stave off bingeing. When I stopped taking pain pills, I found myself getting out of bed during the night and sneaking down to raid the cupboard or refrigerator. I gained 30 pounds within six weeks. I had lost the ability to control my eating.

Just like with drugs and alcohol, I told myself that each day would be different. I began the day telling myself that I would eat healthy meals and wouldn't binge at night. Then the subtle insanity would start, and I'd tell myself, “I’ll eat just one little bit; one piece isn’t going to hurt me” or “I’m not that fat, I can eat some of it.” I avoided acknowledging what it was like every time I binged. I wouldn’t think about the next morning when I'd be walking around in a food fog with a hangover and headache. I didn’t remember how my clothes got so tight I couldn’t button my pants because my stomach was so bloated from the 1

night before.

The following year, I joined a diet club.

Over the course of seven months, I lost 12 pounds. I still binged (plus now I was occasionally purging) and couldn’t be honest about what I had eaten each day. After weighing in on a Saturday, I would eat whatever I wanted that day and try to cut back the next day.

But the week went by quickly, and I would panic about the upcoming weigh-in.

I felt anxious every time I went there. I knew it was not a safe place for me after I heard a member share how she had gotten out of bed to eat the night before. The leader looked at her and said, with such judgment, “You got up in the middle of the night to eat?” I quit the diet club shortly thereafter.

When I got up to 182 pounds, I realized I had spent more than 16 years gaining and losing the same 10-15 pounds! I decided to try 2

a Twelve-Step program for food. I attended four meetings but was very confused about what abstinence meant. I was told I could define my own abstinence and food plan, and that I was to eat three moderate meals a day with no sugar. They said if I was hungry in between, I could eat a piece of fruit. I tried it, ate what I considered three moderate meals, and managed to lose 17 pounds.

However, when I was feeling cold at a football game one day, I had an insane thought that it would be okay to have a hot, sweet beverage. That led to allowing myself one piece of a Halloween treat. By ROBIN G., MD Thanksgiving, I was bingeing almost nightly.

In a short time, I gained back 15 of the 17 pounds and weighed nearly 180. I realized that although that Twelve-Step food program worked for some people, it was not a solution for me. I had heard of FA from a few friends but had balked when I learned that September 2023

they didn’t eat flour or sugar. My thought up the phone, I took the flour item from my was, What would I eat? I didn’t know what to lunch and threw it in the trash. That marked do. the first day of my abstinence.

I am a firm believer that God puts people The FA meeting was so close to my house in my life at just the right moment to say just I could practically throw a rock from my the right thing. A friend, who is an FA mem- backyard and hit the church building. I atber, was visiting from out of town and had tended the meeting and was given a newbeen feeling like she was on thin ice with her comer’s packet. After a frustrating search to abstinence. She and I decided to call each find a sponsor, I almost had a break, but once other every weekday I “Let go and let God,” morning and discuss I found a sponsor.

I told myself that each day what we were going to Thus began my joureat that day. I did well would be different. Then the ney. I immediately for a couple of days began to feel better. and then confessed to subtle insanity would start, My clothes were still a binge. This went on tight after a couple of for a couple of weeks. and I'd tell myself, “I’ll eat weeks, but mentally I Then one weekend I was feeling great. I had one of my worst just one little bit; one piece isn’t couldn’t wait to get bingeing experiences. my 90 days so I could I was so miserable and going to hurt me” or “I’m not share. I took three depressed. I woke up service positions the that fat, I can eat some of it. ” around 4 a.m., got out moment I had 90 days of bed, got on my (yes, I am an addict!), knees, and begged God to take away my and joined an AWOL to study the Twelve food obsession. I talked to my friend and told Steps. I had worked the steps many times her the truth and explained that I was going through AA, but it was a whole different perto FA that night. I had packed a flour product spective doing them in an AWOL and finally for lunch, but something happened before surrendering the food. It has been a slow lunch. I picked up the phone and called one process of releasing the weight, but a rewardof my customers, who was a member of FA, ing one. I thank God that I was given the gift and told her what had been going on. She of desperation. talked to me for 30 minutes. When I hung Teri M., California, US connection

3

First 90 Days

Raising My Hand

M

y local FA meeting rarely had more than five of us, which meant providing service was inevitable. As a newbie and someone who struggled to acquire 90 days of abstinence right from the get-go, I had a long stretch of time where all I could contribute was reading portions of the meeting format. At first, I only volunteered to read the tools because they were short and less intimidating than the other sections, but with time, I raised my hand for longer portions, too.

Encouraging fellows would complement my eagerness for recovery. Using humor as a mask, a coping skill I often used, I jokingly labeled meeting days as “squat days,” referring to that fact that my rear barely hit the chair before I was up again to read. At 350 pounds, I assure you I never had a real “squat day” in my life. Truth be told, I just wanted to speed through the format and get to what I deemed the “good part” of the meeting; where others shared what was going on between their ears and how they had struggled mentally, the way I was, but weren’t struggling anymore.

Of course, I realized I wasn’t the only overweight person in the world, but I honestly 4

felt very alone with the fact that I had such an intense desire to change, yet was completely powerless to make progress. Prior to FA, I would chalk that up to laziness, being a failure, and other self-hating, self-defeating terms. I honestly thought other people chose to just surrender and enjoy being “fat and happy,” while I was the only one fat and suicidally miserable about it.

A few months into my latest attempt at back-to-back abstinence, I knew I was in for a particularly stressful workday. I was so preoccupied with worry about leading a work meeting that I butchered my breakfast and had to start over. I didn’t need the added fear and uncertainty of whether I had weighed my breakfast correctly hanging over me.

The work meeting went better than expected, but I still felt lingering stress afterward. As I pulled into a parking spot back at my building, I envisioned the row of vending machines I had to pass to get to my office and thought, We make a call in times of stress. So, I stayed in my car a little longer and made an outreach call. I wasn’t necessarily drawn to the vending machines; I just knew I was too hyped up at that moment and September 2023

needed a buffer before walking past them.

As I approached my desk after successfully ignoring the vending machines, my boss came into my office and declared “Girl, I don’t know what you have been up to but keep it up. You blew the socks off that meeting.” I hadn’t directly worked under this individual since before FA, and in past annual evaluations, the only performance expectation she remarked on was to improve my public speaking abilities.

Now, she was giving me compliments on my work.

As I reflected, I realized that it wasn’t the size of my body that made the difference in my confidence. Although I was down several pounds by this time, I was not at goal weight. Appearance alone wasn’t the root cause of my success. Then it dawned on me.

By this time in recovery, I had read every piece of that meeting format ad nauseum. I had stumbled over the tongue-twister portion of Tradition Six, “…lest problems of money, property, and prestige divert us from our primary purpose.” I had butchered the word “anonymity” in many different ways, at many different times. But each time I made a mistake at the front of the room, no one made it a big deal or criticized me. My fellows had made standing in front of the room, regardless of my size, a safe thing to do.

Over time, I ended up traveling and visitconnection

ing much bigger meetings with more eyes focused on me and a large enough space to require a microphone, and today I feel more comfortable presenting to a group, whether it be in FA or work-related. Yes, being at the front of a large conference room in a size 6 is easier than doing anything in a size 36, but that is not the sole reason I am more confident with public speaking. Through FA meetings, I learned that comfort comes from practice, whether that willingness to practice is built on a true desire to do service or just impatience with the meeting format.

Now, with over 10 years of recovery, I force myself to pause before I raise my hand to give those with less than 90 days of continuous abstinence a chance to read and those with 90 days of abstinence a chance to share. I encourage newcomers to raise their hands at every opportunity, throw themselves into that small service, and trust the process.

It was never on my bucket list to do anything that required public speaking, but I received a hidden, unexpected, and unintended bonus in the tenth promise read at each meeting. “Fear of people … will leave us.” Fear is not entirely gone and not in every situation, but it is better. When I started, I was doing a small service for my meeting, but it turned out I was doing a huge service for my recovery.

Anonymous 5

Perfectly Imperfect

Y

esterday was one of those crazy Monday mornings. My five-yearold refused to get dressed, finish her breakfast, have her teeth brushed, put on shoes, or leave for school. Instead, she screamed for what felt like hours but was really only about 45 minutes. I cycled through first being caring and reasonable and finished by shouting and throwing out threats.

We finally left the house, and when I parked the car (the closest you can get to school for drop-off is about half a mile away), I got her bike out of the trunk, chucked it on the ground, and hissed through clenched teeth, “Get on your bike and ride to school!” I marched ahead and she rode as slowly as possible behind me. Neither of us was covering ourselves in glory!

We bumped into a friend, and I described the events of the morning. “I try not to shout,” she said, “I find it escalates things.” Grrrrrr. I smiled and the conversation moved on.

You might think this is one of those stories comparing what it was like while I was in active food addiction with what it’s like now that I’m in recovery, and in a way, it is. I am responsible enough now to have children, maintain a relationship with a spouse, and help keep a roof over our heads. (I really didn’t function well during my addiction to 6

food, alcohol, and drugs, and I couldn’t look after myself, let alone anyone or anything else.)

My behavior yesterday happened despite being abstinent for 18 years. Even so, I’m proud of myself. Only a few months ago, yesterday morning’s experience would have ended with what I’ve told you so far. I would have spent the whole day feeling guilty, ashamed, and “wrong” for losing my temper.

While I could feel those emotions hovering around the edges, they didn’t overwhelm me.

I made calls to other mothers in FA and we laughed and talked about simply being good enough, rather than perfect. Those feelings didn’t swamp me because I can focus on everything that happened once I got my daughter to school. When we got there, we put her bike away, sat down, and had a good talk. I apologized for shouting, and we talked about how we were feeling. I shared that we needed to set some boundaries. “I love you. I do not love those behaviors. How can we change them?” is often heard now in our house. She apologized. We hugged, and she went into class happy.

In thinking about my friend’s comment, I noticed that I didn’t feel angry about her judgment. I can certainly trot out unhelpful things at times when caught unaware, but September 2023

XANDRA G., CA

now I am secure enough in myself to let other people have their beliefs; who knew? I also noticed that while I agree with her in principle, I don’t agree in practice.

The best parent encouragement I ever got was from an FA fellow who said, “My kids have heard me swear, shout, and seen me really angry, but they’ve also seen me apologize, clean up my mess, and try to change.” I think that is so much more important.

Unfortunately, I can’t show my kids how to clean up mistakes if I don’t ever do anything wrong. I have to be imperfect if I want to teach them it’s okay for them to be imperfect.

And I am ragingly imperfect, so they get lots of opportunities! And when (not if) my imconnection

perfections happen too regularly, I have a whole recovery program designed to help me change. I trust that FA works because I’ve experienced it.

More than anything, I kept sight of who I am and how I want to parent. Those choices and the agency to follow them are one of the many gifts of recovery. It doesn’t really matter whether my choices turn out to be the best ones; the fact that I have thought about them, talked about them, asked for input from my higher power, and then listened, gives me self-respect and peace of mind, something I never got from any amount of food. I like myself today, exactly as I am.

Saffron dS., UK 7

Pride Goeth

A

fter more than three years in prove myself earnest and up to the job, I FA, I was still gliding on a pink spent hours drafting the report, deciding cloud of weight loss, tight jeans, what our goals should be. Being the dutiand genuine freedom from cravings. I was ful type, I arrived at the Board meeting sponsoring a handful of fellow food ad- that morning with copies of my commitdicts. I thought I had integrated a life of tee’s goals, typed in the requisite format. honesty, gratitude, and service into my al- After the Board meeting, I was ready ready busy existence. Having spent for my committee meeting. I felt good decades battling 20-plus pounds as a self- about my efforts. All I needed was to get loathing exercise bulimic and secret the others on my committee to agree to binger, I now finally what I’d already prefelt useful and sane. sented to the Board.

Non-abstinence, while it One summer, I I wasn’t seeking was appointed as feedback, merely a may not start with the food, chair of an Eastern rubber stamp of apArea Intergroup proval and a comalways ends with it.

(EAI) committee. mitment to help EAI met every with the work. As month on a Sunday morning, first in the person on the committee who sets committee meetings followed by an all- the agenda, keeps the minutes, and shows group meeting. As chair of a committee, up every month, I felt I was doing the I was automatically a member of the EAI others a favor by shouldering the bulk of Board, which met before committee the work. meetings began. Fortunately, I was But when first one, then another memblessed with a team of committee mem- ber of the committee (two fellows who bers. An early assignment was to present weren’t always in attendance, no less!) to the Board a written record of our com- began to question aspects of my documittee’s annual goals, listing those criteria ment, I was secretly furious. Any changes against which we could measure our suc- would mean I’d have to rewrite the report, cess throughout the year. Determined to make more copies for the Board, and ul8

September 2023

timately submit the report a month late. ing resentment at how much I was That would expose the fact that I hadn’t forced to do, felt real anger at my fellows gotten a consensus before creating our for not doing as much as I did, and expecommittee’s goals, making me appear ar- rienced a powerful desire to eat. I was rogant, disorganized, and incapable of hungry enough to eat a bear. leadership. Worse, I would expose myself Thankfully, I didn’t eat. Not that day. as not being as far along in my recovery But some weeks later, I had a break. Not as others on the Board. a huge binge; it was a small infraction, Rather than considering my two com- but it was a break. With it, along with mittee members’ comments, I, as tact- having to lose my sponsees, leave my fully as I could, argued with them. I AWOL, and stay silent at business meetfound reasons why their questions were ings, I was reminded that non-abstispurious, undermined their logic, and nence, while it may not start with the subtly hinted that food, always ends their poor attenwith it.

I try to be the person dance made their I’m still in FA, and suggestions undercontinue to struginformed. I almost I believe God wants me to be, gle with self-importhreatened that if tance, still find and I often ask for help. changes were remyself trying to quired, they’d have prove I am enough And life keeps getting better. and to be made by do enough. I’m someone else, as I’d still prone to resentdone enough. I didn’t go that far, but I ment. After more than 15 years of backwasn’t willing to get out of the driver’s to-back abstinence, these defects are seat! much less of a problem. What I’ve I can’t remember how I prevailed, but I learned, through one day at a time did. The document I’d produced was ap- weighing and measuring my life (and proved, and we went on to decide next food!), is that I’m perfectly normal. I pray steps to meet our goals. It was ugly and for humility. I check my motives. I try to manipulative of me, but I assured myself be the person I believe God wants me to that I’d saved everyone a lot of effort. be, and I often ask for help. And life Driving home from the meeting that keeps getting better.

Sunday morning, however, I felt a growAnonymous connection

9

My True Colors

I

was about 14 years old, helping my wore bright, warm colors like reds, hot mom set things out on a picnic table, pinks, or oranges. I didn’t want any attenwhen I heard my dad say that I took tion called to my figure, especially when I after his side of the family, who were "on the started gaining weight.

Food was an important emotional factor hippy side, too." I was stunned. I had on a pair of Bermuda shorts in a light khaki in our family. I began to use food as a buffer color, and later that day I looked in the mir- to ease discomfort and keep feelings of ror and noticed that the lighter color inferiority at bay. Food acted as an emotended to draw more attention to my lower tional bandage and cured everything from half. I was not fat, but I did carry a little skinned knees to loneliness, because for several years I was a "latchkey” kid. My folks extra weight on my hips.

From then on, I chose only dark colors celebrated the end of the work week with from the waist down. I never wore anything scrumptious food every Friday night. I with horizontal stripes, and never, ever, learned to bake by watching my mom.

CARYL W., UK/SOUTH AFRICA

10

September 2023

As a teenager, I had the usual self-consciousness about my looks. I was not fat, but no one would call me skinny. If I received bright-colored clothes for Christmas or my birthday, I only wore them as a layer with darker colors. Every time I saw myself in a mirror or reflection in a store window or glass door, I checked to see if my hips looked too big, and they always did.

About 50 years later, I found FA. I rejoiced when I lost 10 inches off my hips.

When it came to clothing size, losing those inches made all the weighing and measuring of my food, going to meetings, using the tools of the program, or any inconvenience doing service, of little matter.

Today, I am careful when I pick out clothing because I still have vague feelings of doubt and insecurity when it comes to my appearance; however, the abject humiliation is gone. I have white, khaki, and pastelcolored pants in my wardrobe. I have shirts with horizontal stripes and red, hot pink, orange, chartreuse green, and bright yellow skirts and blouses. I no longer fear these colors. I have a new attitude about myself.

It did not happen overnight, but I see positive changes almost every day, and I am grateful that FA, my Higher Power, and my sponsor have helped me deal with the ups and downs of life. I know I could not have done it on my own.

Judy B., Maine, US connection

Twelve Traditions 1. Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends on FA unity.

2. For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority – a loving God as He may express Himself in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.

3. The only requirement for FA membership is a desire to stop eating addictively.

4. Each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups or FA as a whole.

5. Each group has but one primary purpose – to carry its message to the food addict who still suffers.

6. An FA group ought never endorse, finance or lend the FA name to any related facility or outside enterprise, lest problems of money, property and prestige divert us from our primary purpose.

7. Every FA group ought to be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions.

8. Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous should remain forever nonprofessional, but our service centers may employ special workers.

9. FA, as such, ought never be organized; but we may create service boards or committees directly responsible to those they serve.

10. Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues, hence the FA name ought never be drawn into public controversy.

11. Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and films.

12. Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities.

Adapted with permission from Alcoholics Anonymous11

One Step Closer to Freedom

I

didn’t have a choice before. When a craving would hit, I had to eat. Period.

There was no pause, no phone call, and no strength to fight it. I ate, and then the food always took me to the same pit of despair. A horrific cycle of bingeing, laxatives, cleansing, and then more bingeing would take over.

Once I came into FA, I had hope that there was another way. I got abstinent and found a new way and a new peace. After a year or so, when I was no longer experiencing the intense pain of addictive eating, I started to get complacent with my tools. I told myself that I was busy with other things and had important things to do.

I didn’t share this with my sponsor or my fellows. Then followed the rationalization that eating a little extra something wasn’t that bad, and before I knew it, I had justified my way into another horrible cycle of bingeing and full-blown relapse. This cycle went on for my first six years in FA, so I experienced being in my first 90 days a lot.

After one particularly painful relapse, a thought came to me during my quiet time.

I realized that I had the answer and ticket to freedom, which was to fully surrender to the entire program, not just to the parts that I approved of, liked, and wanted to do, 12

but to surrender to all of it, even the hard parts that I didn’t like or understand.

I realized that taking suggestions that didn’t make sense was probably the most valuable action I could take. If the suggestions were easy and I wanted to do them, I probably would have done them a long time ago! The morning I realized that, if I worked the tools of FA as if my life depended on it (because it really did), I would not have to hurt myself with food again.

Undoubtedly, the discomfort of being caught in a food craving is horribly uncomfortable. But so is bingeing to the point of physical pain, remorse, self-hatred, and isolation. In that quiet time, I realized that there was going to be discomfort in my life, but now I had a choice. One option was the discomfort I knew so well; the black hole of bingeing and purging in active food addiction. The other option was to face the discomfort of my emotions, sit with those feelings, use my tools, and learn how to experience discomfort without food.

Eventually, I learned to trust that the craving would pass, and what a miracle and surreal experience that was. The beautiful gift from riding out a craving without eating was that I found myself one step closer to freedom and one experience closer to September 2023

JEANNE L., WA

God. One day at a time, one abstinent moment at a time, I have learned how to be uncomfortable without having to put something in my mouth. Eleven years later, I have acconnection

cepted the value of facing life on life’s terms and being taught to stand in a place of hope, joy, and freedom from active food addiction.

Tiffany P., California, US 13

I

Filling God’s Backpack

’ve been studying the Twelve Steps in AWOL meetings for 20 years. I’ve learned that the primary reason I work the steps is to build a closer relationship with God and that this relationship gives me direction to live as a spiritual being in the physical world.

In disease, I couldn’t see how God was working in my life because of my father’s death, lost opportunities, etc. I interpreted surviving severe alcohol poisoning as a teen and a suicide attempt in my 20s as proof that God didn’t care about me. I thought that if God had cared, I would’ve died and been set free from my horrible life.

In recovery, I recognize that my thinking was rooted in self-centered fear and selfpity. I am grateful that God kept me alive because I found FA in April 1998. Recovery cleared my mind and made me available for conversations about a higher power. With quiet time, I started building a relationship with God. I began to understand the importance of this relationship and how it has affected my life in so many situations. In abstinence, looking for spiritual experiences has become a habit. The more I look, the more I see God in action.

I am also increasingly able to see my past 14

through a different lens and recognize many people who cared about and for me.

In 2007, I was the youth director of my church, where I accompanied teens to work camp where we performed home repairs. As a faith-based organization, each evening there were activities for the groups, one of which was reporting God sightings. Teens would report something that had happened during the day that showed them God was working in their lives. They would stand and claim seemingly inconsequential incidents to be God sightings. As I listened, I realized they were actively looking for God every day, anywhere, and everywhere. How could I find fault in that?

This realization that I could find God at any time was evidenced by events in my life. When my husband was 38, he had a stroke. It started when he was at a prekindergarten activity with our son. He attributed the headache to the kids’ noise and his unsteady leg to sitting at a small kid-sized desk. He drove the ten-minute ride home before collapsing in the house; a couple of minutes earlier, it could’ve been a very different story. But it wasn’t.

He eventually needed radiation treatment on his brain. God was there throughSeptember 2023

out that experience. We couldn’t have been taken care of any better. I had worked at a local hospital and had health insurance that allowed us to go to one of the best hospitals in the area. We paid only a tiny fraction of the total medical costs. Under our previous insurance plans, we would’ve been wiped out financially.

I worked in a non-medical department and my manager was a nurse. In FA, I’ve learned to ask for help. I called my manager to see what questions I should be asking and followed up with her when my husband was moved to the intensive care unit. Had I not had that job, I would have done that research myself, but I didn’t have to; I just called my boss.

When I was in high school, the gym teacher recognized a staph infection in my knee, which saved me from losing my leg.

When I was caught drinking on the school bus and got detention, the principal selected me to work on an academic project that helped me make better choices.

When I was arrested for shoplifting food after my father died, my employer went out of her way to let me know she believed in me and would speak on my behalf, if needed.

I didn’t initially recognize that these incidents from my teens and twenties were indications of God’s care. At best, I might have thought myself lucky, but my self-pity and negativity about life prevented even connection

that much acknowledgment. Thankfully, through recovery, the recognition of spiritual experiences is retroactive.

Portions of the AA Big Book differentiate between an “immediate and overwhelming” spiritual awakening and the more prolonged “educational variety,” noting that friends or family may notice changes first. I’ve had people comment about how I’ve changed, but I’ve also seen variations in my attitudes and behavior. I’ve witnessed uncomfortable or hostile situations resolved by words coming out of my mouth, yet the thoughts behind them really had not been my own.

When I was new to FA, I had to depend on other people’s spiritual experiences. I heard fellows talk about God taking care of them in ways that were beyond coincidental. Now I have plenty of my own spiritual experiences that have led to a spiritual awakening of the “educational variety.” I picture it as me adding spiritual experiences, one at a time, to a backpack—God’s backpack—that I always carry with me.

Each experience is a unique item that I toss in. I am grateful for each individual item and, collectively, they are proof of a God who has been taking care of me in ways I either couldn’t or wouldn’t do on my own.

How could I not decide to turn my life over to the care of a God, who’s been working so hard to provide for and protect me?

Angie R., New York, US 15

No Matter What

Driving Toward Recovery

I

came to FA in July 2014 because my life had become consumed with food, negative thoughts, and paralyzing fear. Prior to joining FA, I had convinced myself I was a bad driver. I couldn’t go anywhere that required me to get on a highway. My husband was sick of my outbursts every time I had to drive on a highway, as well as having to work all day, come home, and then take me places. My children were tired of being told they could not go out if I had to take them. Little did I know that being in FA would require me to drive to three meetings a week via the highway. I was told by fellows to ask God for help and put God at the steering wheel. I drove to those weekly meetings trying to loosen my grip on the steering wheel and putting God in the driver’s seat.

In August 2020, I received a dreaded phone call from my mom at 5 am. My ill father passed away in his sleep. I lived far away from my parents. The world had turned upside down due to Covid. We were afraid to fly on airplanes, we were fearful of public places, and we were definitely not sure if we should be traveling to another state. However, I had a strong re16

sponsibility to my family and wanted to be there with them. After quiet time, my sponsor call, and a discussion with my family, I was on the road the next day traveling more than 1,000 miles to another state with my 20-year-old son. That, in itself, is a miracle. In one life experience, I used God, my program, and all the tools that had been suggested to me. I overcame fear, made decisions, and was present for people that I love dearly.

That drive did something for me. It gave me the confidence to drive those same roads several more times. It showed me that FA is changing me in ways I never anticipated. I made phone calls to fellows. I listened to podcasts. I did some writing. I took time to close my eyes and ask God to help me be supportive and loving to my family. I also listened to some great music and had great conversations with my son (when he was awake). These tools were not part of my life before; today, I love them! I am a different person because of that drive and this program. Today I can be sure that, with God and FA, I can drive the road to recovery.

Pam P., Texas, US September 2023

Lighten Up!

I

Bikini?

t was a blazingly hot, sunny day and as I was walking my dog in the triple-digit air, I heard my neighbor call my name. She was sitting by the pool and remarked good-naturedly on the heat. I responded cheerfully and dabbed at the perspiration on my face.

My neighbor then said something odd. She said she had a bikini for me. Startled, I said kindly yet firmly, “I don’t do bikinis.” My neighbor started laughing and said, “Not bikini, I said zucchini!”

“Oh!” I said, without missing a beat, “I do zucchinis.”

Anonymous connection

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God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.