I think I knew I was a food addict before I was willing to accept it. My acceptance came in the front seat of a Honda, as I stuffed as many baked goods into my mouth as I could as I drove away from a celebration at my friend’s house. She had packed me a “care package” that I demolished in the 15-minute ride home.

I was four weeks into a decision to leave Program. I’d been in Program for over a year and knew it was the place for me. Giving up eating the way I had been eating was really hard for me. Although I was abstinent in the beginning, I soon began to have breaks and then lied about those breaks.  In my mind, I rationalized that I was losing weight, and wasn’t that my ultimate goal?

But after a while, I couldn’t live with my lying and made up some reason about how Program was interfering with my life too much and I needed to leave. In the four weeks I was out, I gained 20 pounds. Very simply, I had lost the ability to choose to stop eating. I finally accepted that I am an addict.

When people who know me ask me why I do what I do, I reply it is because it is less painful to me than the alternative—being in active addiction. Working my Program makes me a sane and useful person. When I am in the food, I am anything but that. Most importantly, working towards recovery gives me a life full of hope and possibility, as opposed to a life filled with isolation, despair, and self-loathing.  When I am in active addiction, I am an odd combination of being completely selfish, while at the same time being totally unable to truly care for myself.

My life is a work in progress. It is not perfect. But with the gift of hope that abstinence gives me, I look forward to each day. Sure, it sometimes means I feel feelings I’d rather not feel–those same feelings that I used to stuff down with food. I’ve learned, however, that they really are only feelings and that they do not last forever.

So, each day, I gratefully wake up to sit quietly for 30 minutes. I gladly eat things I previously would have referred to as horse and rabbit food. I have an inner peace that I cherish. It isn’t too bad to be able to wear a size six either. No more Miracle bathing suits for me! I get down on my knees morning and night to remind myself that I am not in charge, that there is a higher power, and that I can let him/her drive the bus and I can be a passenger. In other words, I have a grateful heart.