I am 46 years old and I have spent the last 33 years tormented by food and my weight. It was self-inflicted torture and it affected every aspect of my life.

Until the age of 13, I was obsessed with food and did anything to access food. Evidence of my food addition goes back to when I was three years of age. I remember the family story that had me disappearing at the end of a meal while everyone was still sitting at the table. They found me a few minutes later in one of the lower kitchen cupboards, with the door closed, crunching on the leftover dessert.

There are also stories of the never-ending battle over the Christmas baking.  I had to have the food. It went so far one year that my mom locked the food in the trunk of my fathers’ car. I still got at it. I would wait until my dad took his bath at night and sneak into his bedroom to search through his pant pockets for the car keys. I planned my evening around it. No degree of shame, disappointment, or punishment stopped me. I always knew I would get caught. I always knew better. Even at the age of 12 and 13. I was chasing the Christmas baking.

Despite the absolute obsession with food, all other aspects of my life were normal. But at 13 my weight caught up with me and I went on my first diet. That is when the “I am not good enough” and “I’ll just wait until I lose the weight” kind of thinking started. I proceeded to go up and down in my weight for the next 33 years. I tried everything, from a simple home-planned diet, my doctors’ diet, and just exercising more. Then when I hit the 150-pound mark, I moved on to the more hard core “purchased” programs. In my 30s, when I went over 200 pounds, I started to get desperate, so I brought in the psychologists, psychiatrists, drugs, and a month-long weight intervention in Vermont. They all cost a small fortune, only worked for a fleeting moment, and led me into debt. All this time, people in my personal and work life saw me go up and down 40, 50, 80 pounds.  I think that was the worst part—the shame and humiliation of exposing my lack of self-discipline and weakness to the outside world.

Before FA, I used to set my alarm for 5 a.m. because I always left computer work to do in the morning. I would sleep through my alarm and then scramble. I dreaded the thought of the shower and getting dressed, because I had nothing to wear that wasn’t too small. What’s the point of trying to look nice anyway? I would proceed to eat a very unhealthy breakfast with coffee. I never got everything done that I planned to. I would rush up to have a shower (sometimes didn’t even leave myself enough time for a shower—what’s the point anyway?) I would leave for work 10 minutes late, stressed and frazzled.

Last summer, I had just come back from a month-long vacation in South America. The trip turned out to be more of an adventure than I expected, and I was sick for almost the entire time. I had made great plans to realize some of my dreams on the trip, including a four-day hike to Machu Pichou. I had set the goal of losing 80 pounds before I went. I am not sure why I thought I could do it this time. I had a long history of setting challenging weight goals and never meeting them. Why would this time be different? I came back from the trip having lost 20 pounds from throwing up my way through South America. When I returned, I gained back the weight.

Last July when I came into Program, I had just experienced my worst binge—every day and every night. I would stop at a fast food place on my way home, have dinner, and then go over to the neighborhood convenience store to fill up on family-size portions of sugar and flour products. I would come home and sit downstairs in front of the TV and eat until I went to bed, falling asleep with food wrappers surrounding me. I would isolate on the weekends. I didn’t go anywhere or answer the phone. It got so bad that my neighbor would send over her 8-year-old son to try and get me to answer the door. It was like I was on a mission to gain as much weight as fast as possible.

The day I came into Program was profound. Desperation perfectly describes my state of mind when I walked into my first meeting. It was always out of my control.  It didn’t matter how bad it got, and how much I willed myself to change; it had nothing to do with my will. I was sick and I needed help. Finally, a solution. Thank you God.

I woke up not hating myself. I can’t put into words the profound peace that gave me.  For years, I had woken up with self-loathing and dread every morning. My first morning was so different and so much better than any morning I remembered, that I was convinced this was for me. My usual routine was thrown out the window.

To be honest, I wasn’t excited about the breakfast. But I trusted and ate it anyway. I ate on my back deck slowly (instead of sitting over my computer).  I enjoyed the fresh air and the scenery. I went upstairs and had a shower and got dressed.  I had no idea what a difference a quiet, calm, peaceful breakfast and morning could make. I was still the same size as the day before and my clothes were all still awful, but it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t my fault and I had a solution. That first morning was the turning point in my life.

Meetings were a huge struggle for me because I defined myself by my job, my social life, and my vacations, and these all came as a second or third priority in Program. There were compromises and, in the end, I learned that if I trusted my sponsor, things always worked out, even when I was sure they wouldn’t. I was grappling with how to handle my food at a work function. I followed my sponsor’s advice, and no one even noticed. No one cared. It wasn’t all about me, after all.

I don’t remember the exact time it happened, but I noticed that I started to really look forward to my meetings and then I started doing everything possible not to miss a meeting. I even dug my heals in with my boss one day around a meeting. Now I go to four meetings. Why?  Because I am still new and I need every piece of this program I can get. I know that when I walk into the room, it’s the safest place on the planet for me.

The phone conversations were another challenge for me initially. It took me a while to start.   I left many messages before I received calls back and it took a lot of patience. I was told that I was making an investment, like putting money in the bank, and that I would slowly get a return. After a while, I started connecting, and people gave wonderful advice and hope. What I liked most was that they would shut down my neurotic thinking. When I would get caught up in my story and go on and on, they would switch me right over to the solution.

I have much more growth ahead of me. I have so much hope and I am finally content. Now, I wake up smiling. Really, even if I have a head cold, I wake up smiling.