I was sitting in my CEO’s office having a debriefing after a conference call. When we finished, she turned to me and said, “Okay, this is the hard part.” She explained that I was one of the people being let go in the current round of layoffs. My heart froze. Although she was very kind about the news, it didn’t change the outcome: I was about to be unemployed in the most devastating economic downturn of my lifetime.
After the meeting with my CEO, I walked outside in order to deal with the shock. The first person I phoned was my sponsor. I got her voicemail and left a message. I reached a friend who listened to my fear for a bit and then told me, in no uncertain terms, to go take some quiet time.
I walked back inside the building, found a quiet place, and sat down to be alone with my Higher Power. I didn’t set a timer or check my watch. I just sat there, cross-legged, with my eyes closed. I knew I was ready to stand up when a peace and calmness filled me. The fear was lifted, at least for that moment.
For the next few months, I put my program first. I talked to my sponsor about opening up a slot for an additional sponsee, and as a result, I helped another food addict stay abstinent, which helped to strengthen my own program. I spoke at morning, afternoon, and far-away nighttime meetings that I cannot attend when I have a full-time job. I also did a lot of behind-the-scenes service related to the fellowship convention, held here in California.
As the months passed and my savings lessened, I became more conscious about my monetary giving to FA. Although I kept giving to the seventh tradition basket at my committed meetings, I decided to stop contributing as much when I went to extra FA meetings.
After four months of being unemployed, my anxiety about not having a job was escalating. I began to lose hope. As my despair increased, I realized that I had to go back to basics. I needed to see abstinence with the eyes of a newcomer.
After nine years in this program, I sometimes forget the gifts I have received from FA. At 5’6”, my weight has hovered around 130 pounds for many years. That’s 40 pounds below my top weight of 170. I no longer yoyo up and down 10, 20, 30, or 40 pounds. All of the clothes in my closet fit. I feel good about the way I look in my tight jeans and short skirts.
Before I found FA, I felt shame about my body, particularly about my heavy legs. I threw food into the garbage and, obsessing about it hours later, went back, fished it out, and ate it. I ate so much had to lie down in pain, barely able to move. I told myself I’d never eat that way again, and then I did it again the very next day. I repeated that behavior over and over again. I was powerless with respect to food.
By going back to basics, I realized that I had to trust that, job or no job, I was going to be all right as long as I put FA first. Seeing anew all that FA does for me, I decided to increase the amount I gave when attending non-committed meetings.
After five months of being unemployed, and as a direct result of taking my sponsor’s suggestions in my job hunt, I received an offer I could not refuse. Now, a month into my new position, I can hardly believe the incredible gift my Higher Power has given me. I am making more money than I’ve ever made in my profession, have good health benefits, a very strong and supportive team to work with, and a two-mile commute. Some mornings I walk to work, grateful for good health and for the absence of chafing between my legs as I move.
For me, putting FA first, increasing the amount of service I was giving to the program, and increasing my monetary donations to the program helped me to show up for the job hunt in a consistent manner. And now, when the work deadlines start crowding in, as they already are, and the glow of being at a new job wears off, I want to remember the despair I was feeling after five months of being unemployed. I want to always be grateful for the service that I was able to give FA during that period. I want to appreciate that FA kept me abstinent, sane, and relatively calm…until the miracle happened.