Essen ist auch eine Droge Ich bin Mitglied bei Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) und lebe mit einer Mehrfachsucht. Mein Weg in die Genesung begann nicht mit Essen – zunächst war ich in einem 12-Schritte-Programm für Drogensüchtige. Mit der Zeit wurde mir jedoch klar, dass Essen in meinem Leben die gleiche Funktion hatte wie Drogen. Es war nicht einfach Nahrung – es war meine Droge.

Obwohl ich keine starken Gewichtsschwankungen hatte und oft als schlank galt, war mein Denken ständig vom Essen und der Kontrolle meines Gewichts bestimmt. Ich war ein ängstliches, gehemmtes Kind und habe in dieser Zeit viel verbale Gewalt erlebt. Essen wurde mein Rückzugsort, mein Trost.

Viele Jahre lang habe ich mir mein Verhalten schöngeredet und verharmlost – obwohl ich Essen zwanghaft und wie eine Droge missbrauchte. Ich habe sehr darunter gelitten, auch wenn es nach außen kaum sichtbar war.

Schließlich führte mich ein mehrtägiger Fressanfall an meinen Tiefpunkt – und direkt zu FA. Dieser Moment wurde zum Beginn meiner wirklichen Genesung. Heute bin ich zutiefst dankbar für die Klarheit, Ehrlichkeit und Freiheit, die mir dieses Programm geschenkt hat.

Food Is Also a Drug I am a member of Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA), and I live with multiple addictions. My recovery journey did not begin with food—I first entered a 12-Step program for drug addiction. Over time, however, it became clear to me that food functioned in my life the same way drugs had. Food was not just food; it was my drug of choice.

Although I did not experience extreme weight fluctuations and was often considered slim, my mind was constantly consumed by food and controlling my weight. From a young age, I was anxious, inhibited, and exposed to significant verbal aggression. Food became my refuge and my relief.

I spent years minimizing and justifying my behavior—telling myself stories that made my eating seem harmless, even as I was using food compulsively and addictively. I suffered deeply, though much of it was hidden from the outside world.

Eventually, a multi-day binge brought me to my breaking point—and into Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous. That moment marked the beginning of true recovery for me. Today, I am profoundly grateful for the clarity, honesty, and freedom this program has given me.

As the oldest child in my family, I learned to take on the responsibility of caring for others, setting my own needs aside. My father often rewarded me with fast food. In college, isolated from family, I walked a mile every night to restaurants seeking comfort. Even as I climbed the corporate ladder, I felt inadequate and continued using food to manage my anxiety. After my father's death, I put my mother first. For over a decade, I cared for her while frequenting every drive-thru near her assisted living facility. My adult life may have looked successful from the outside, but I continued struggling privately, and I used food to cope. After years of trying to manage on my own and reaching 224 pounds, I found Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) and heard my own story reflected back to me. What I discovered wasn’t a failure of willpower, but an addiction that required help beyond myself. Through sponsorship, meetings, and the Twelve Steps, my obsession with food lifted, and the excess weight disappeared. Now, passing my 14th anniversary in FA, life still brings challenges, but I have a roadmap for navigating them. The structure of FA has given me more freedom than I ever had when eating whatever I wanted. One day at a time, I live in gratitude, thankful I accepted the opportunity to live in recovery rather than remain stuck in addiction.

I came into Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) in 2019 at 193 pounds, 5'7", convinced I would be the one person the program wouldn’t work for. I didn’t even believe I was a food addict, just someone with a snacking problem. But my life told a different story. I grew up in Venezuela, waiting for my mother to leave the house so I could steal food from the cabinet and then throw the wrappers over the wall into the neighbor’s yard. I loved visiting my aunt, who had a central vacuum system, so I could eat sweets and then quickly discard the wrappers into the inlet valve hole in the wall. As an athletic teen, I became so obsessed with how I looked that I stopped eating, carried a calculator, and allowed myself no more than 300 calories a day. When I felt dizzy, seeing little sparkles of light, I thought that was a sure sign that I was losing weight. After many diets, and finding that starving myself wasn't sustainable, the pendulum swung to the other extreme, and I began consuming enormous amounts of food, bingeing until my sisters didn't recognize me. My back hurt. My joints hurt. I didn’t want anyone to see me, and I stopped showing up for my own life – avoiding plans, canceling commitments at the last minute, and feeling overwhelming guilt. I eventually lost my job, and food was my only way of coping. In a moment of desperation, I Googled “food addiction" and discovered FA. I found a meeting that was walking distance from my house that had been there for the past 20 years! I arrived feeling skeptical and broken, ready to argue. Instead, I borrowed my sponsor’s faith, I lost 60 pounds, and more than that, I lost the obsession with food. I learned that you don’t even have to believe that it works. You just have to do it – faith comes later.

For most of my life, I never thought I had a food addiction. I believed my struggles with weight were simply the result of genetics and environment, a lottery I had lost. I came from a family where many people were larger, food was central to everything we did, and at 5’9”, I assumed my size was inevitable. For most of my adult life, I weighed over 300 pounds. Even as my health declined, my denial only deepened.

That denial shattered in 2008. What I thought were slightly swollen ankles landed me in the hospital with heart failure. My heart rate climbed past 225 beats per minute. At 47 years old, paramedics chemically stopped my heart – twice – trying to reset it. In the back of that ambulance, I was terrified. At the hospital, I weighed in at 373 pounds.

Still, I didn’t understand food addiction. I lost some weight by watching my sodium, but the obsession never left. In 2010, after being given a birthday cake and later eating the entire thing alone in a closet, I asked the universe for help, specifically for someone I could talk to about my food. Soon after, I was led to Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA). When I made the call, I finally heard that sugar and flour are addictive substances. At once, everything clicked – the mental obsession was paired with a physical craving.

I joined FA on April 28, 2010, weighing 302 pounds, and I have lost over 150 pounds. With my doctor’s guidance, I’ve come off 18 different medications. I no longer need a cane, which I once relied on at age 49. I no longer have sleep apnea or high blood pressure. I restored my relationships and financial standing, and I’ve gained a life beyond anything I imagined. Today, I live with freedom, purpose, and gratitude, one day at a time.

Once I started eating, I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t a grazer – I was a binge eater. I ate in secret, whole packages at a time, with the door closed. When I came to Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) at 20 years old, I was obese, deeply unhappy, and running out of hope. Today, at 58 years old and 85 pounds lighter, I have a blessed life in recovery. From age three, food lit me up like a Christmas tree. I remember being caught hiding behind a curtain at my parents' dinner party, secretly bingeing on dessert. My first diet was in sixth grade, and it began a pattern that lasted for years: intense excitement, a few days of success, and then the moment of insanity when I told myself I could have ‘just one bite.’ From there, I was off to the races My brother was born with a heart defect, and I could feel the stress that my loving parents experienced. When I was 13, a surgery meant to fix his heart went wrong, and he died. When we lost him, our beautiful family circle was broken, and so was I. I gained 30 pounds that year and spent the rest of high school dieting. College was one long binge, until I found FA. Today, I’m married, raising two college-aged children – one transgender, one autistic – and caring for elderly parents. Life is full, imperfect, and deeply meaningful. For over thirty-five years now, I've maintained my right-sized body by asking my Higher Power for help—not just with food, but with life itself. My Higher Power has a perfect track record: every time I surrender to God's will, I get to live a beautiful life.

In my Italian American family, everything revolved around food. I ate when I was happy, sad, lonely, or scared – and most of the time I was all four. My mom didn't want me to have the struggles with weight that she always had, so whenever she joined a commercial weight loss program (and she joined them all), she would drag me with her. She meant well, but every new plan just made me feel more broken. She would pack me embarrassing diet lunches to bring to school that were quite different from what the other children were eating.

On the outside, I smiled and kept dieting; on the inside, I binged in secret and drowned in shame. When I did lose weight, I'd immediately gain it back. I was 250 pounds when I graduated from high school. By the time I was thirty-one, I weighed 325, had diabetes, and hated myself. Fasting and starvation, alcohol, cocaine, pills, more diet programs – I tried it all to control my eating, but control was never the answer. On a sweltering August evening, I walked into my first Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) meeting drenched in sweat, having tried to hide my body under a heavy raincoat. I was terrified – and desperate. That night, I heard the word “hope.” Recovery didn’t just change my body, it transformed my life.

Then, after twelve years of abstinence, I got cocky. My addiction sneaked back in – and for the next two years, I returned to food, alcohol, and drugs. I was so ashamed and too proud to be honest with myself. Eventually, I returned to FA and got abstinent again. I found a new purpose, got married, retired from my job, and began volunteering with drug addicts. Today, at 66 years old, my weight has remained steady for several decades at about 130 pounds. I’m healthy, free, and grateful beyond measure.

I’m an 80-year-old food addict, grateful to have been part of the Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) fellowship for decades. I have lost more than 55 pounds, but far more importantly, I have gained a way of living that continues to sustain me. My childhood was shaped by alcoholism, abuse, and silence, followed by years of binge eating, denial, relapse, and shame. After getting sober in AA, I believed I was finally free – until I hit yet another bottom, alone in my car, surrounded by food wrappers. I tried mindful eating, only to discover I could mindfully binge. When I first walked into an FA meeting that I swore I did not need, I was startled to find something I had never known before: freedom from eating addictively. With the help of a sponsor, the Twelve Steps, and a loving fellowship, I began to heal long-buried trauma and reclaim a creative life that I thought was lost. My husband of 56 years joined FA, and we shared many wonderful years of recovery before his passing. In FA, I became a better listener, and our marriage got better. Imagine that! When he became ill, I was supported by my fellowship every step of the way. Today, my grandchildren – now adults – have never seen me abuse food or alcohol. I do my best to be present with everyone in my life. I write, paint, enjoy laughter, and live fully, grateful for this program. My Higher Power has been very good to me.

I was born a sugar addict, sneaking food as a child and using it to cope with my feelings. Moving constantly – twelve cities in eight years – made food my only reliable companion. In college, far from home, I'd cycle through dieting and binging, filled with shame but unable to stop.

After many years of failed attempts at recovery, the binges escalated. They grew bigger, lasted longer, and became more dangerous. One night, I totaled my car while rummaging through a snack bag and rear-ended the car in front of me. As I waited for the police to arrive, all I could think about was my shrinking window of time to secretly binge before my husband came home.

Sixteen years ago, I joined Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA); twelve years ago, I finally surrendered. With a strong sponsor who told me the truth with love, I followed direction for the first time. That decision changed everything.

Today, the mind that was once noisy and negative is quiet and grateful. I go through each day without food cravings, I've stopped nitpicking, and my marriage has improved dramatically. My greatest gift is waking up each morning with the promise of another day of recovery.