I’m Learning How to Rethink My Binge Eating Habits

Confessions from a woman who has been practicing emotional eating for twenty years

Ten minutes ago, I was standing at my kitchen sink shoving nachos down my gullet while carefully staring out of the window, making sure my husband and children weren’t pulling into the driveway. Don’t worry. I had a contingency plan if they did show up. I would grab the pan, toss the remaining food (regrettably) into the garbage and act casual.

“Were you just eating that entire pan of nachos to yourself?” My husband might say concernedly.

“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’d reply, shame-faced with cheese grease dripping from my lips.

This whole imaginary scenario is absurd for two reasons.

1) My husband and children just left to visit family three hours away, so they likely wouldn’t be coming back for any reason. I had to stay behind for work obligations, which is why I was stuffing my miserable face in the first place.

2) Why am I so ashamed to be eating anyway?

But, I already know the answer to that. I’m afraid to be seen chowing down on chips and cheese at 4 in the afternoon because I don’t want anyone to witness me eating like that. I am an emotional eater, also known as binge eating disorder. It shames me even to be writing this.

I recently wrote an article about losing weight by making simple changes in my life. As my stomach aches from the pound of cheddar I’ve just eaten, I feel like a fraud for having written such a thing.

I have been losing weight, and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. I’m already feeling betting in my skin. At least, I was feeling better in my skin 45 minutes ago — pre-nacho-fest.

I have just eaten so much cheese I likely won’t poop for a week.

But why? All of you, non-emotional eaters, are probably screaming at your screens right now. Why would I put myself through this? Why, if my husband had come home, causing me to throw the nachos in the garbage, was there a real possibility of picking the chips out of the trash and continuing to eat them once I was alone again? Why am I the way I am?

Emotional eaters eat because of the same reason alcoholics drink. There is a void that needs filling. We are looking for comfort at the bottom of a chip bag. Yet all we end up finding is shame and regret.

Caitlin Moran explains emotional eaters best in How to Be a Woman.

“Overeating is the addiction of choice of carers, and that’s why it’s come to be regarded as the lowest-ranking of all the addictions. It’s a way of fucking yourself up while still remaining fully functional, because you have to. Fat people aren’t indulging in the “luxury” of their addiction making them useless, chaotic, or a burden. Instead, they are slowly self-destructing in a way that doesn’t inconvenience anyone. And that’s why it’s so often a woman’s addiction of choice. All the quietly eating mums. All the KitKats in office drawers. All the unhappy moments, late at night, caught only in the fridge light.”

― Caitlin Moran, How to Be a Woman

Life is hard, man. I don’t have the time or money to become an alcoholic. I’ve got kids to raise and articles about binging on nachos to write. Food hurts only me if I binge.

Except that’s not true either, is it? When my daughter sees me moving to the fridge after some stress-induced moment, she is subliminally learning my coping language. She understands that after I’ve had an article bomb or get into an argument with her dad, that I instinctively head to the cupboard for a few handfuls of cookies to satisfy myself.

I do not doubt that my girl will eventually adopt these strategies to deal with her stress or heartache. The cycle will repeat itself.

I’ve always told myself that gorging was a treat for when times were tough. It was this naughty little secret I had because nobody knew that I was doing it. I hardly ever ravish food in front of the other adults in my life. I’m the fat girl who eats a salad when out for lunch or purposefully asks for half of the meal to get packed up when dining out for dinner.

I thought that if people didn’t see me eating, then they wouldn’t realize I had problems with food. But the fact is, I’m overweight — there’s no hiding that.

But in the end, all today was, was a slip-up.

I’ve been doing well and feeling healthy for the past two months.

However, as I watched my family drive away on their adventure without me, I decided it was time to treat myself. And as I finished the roasting-pan serving size of nacho chips, all while standing at the counter in order to make a quick get-away if necessary, I realized how unlike a treat it really was.

I eat because I want to feel something other than emotions. I am pressing them down under pounds of fatty foods, Slurpee’s and cookies. And every time after I admit myself to these one-woman feasts, as I slink off to the couch feeling incredibly remorseful, I realize the original sadness has only been more intensified.

So, how to remedy this? Well, anyone knows that addictions are not cured overnight. But because I have talked with my doctor many times about my overeating, I do have some tips in my back pocket that I can bring back into play.

Food journaling: I’ve mentioned this tactic before when writing about weight loss, but I think it’s a useful one, therefore worth mentioning again. Keeping a food journal is a great way to stay accountable for what you’re eating.

When I find myself in a difficult place emotionally, I go a step further and write down why I am feeling the need to eat as well as what I am eating. Merely writing out my woes can be enough to keep me out of the fridge and feel content instead of overstuffed and remorseful.

Breaking down the triggers: to piggyback the last point, I find it useful to examine what specific emotions trigger my binging. For me, it is loneliness. It is second nature for me to eat manically when I am alone in the house. Something in my brain screams, “this is your chance! Get all of the food into your body as fast as humanly possible.”

Typically I am happy enough to spend time with myself, but it takes a concerted effort not to overeat while doing so. I’m learning, however, to be comfortable with spending time with myself without a chip bag beside me.

No eating in front of the tv: this is the hardest one for me because I grew up in a dinner-at-the-couch kind of family. Eating anything on the couch comes naturally. However, I find that mindlessly eating is problematic. I do not register those first inklings of fullness. Instead, I keep eating and eating, more, more, and more. All of a sudden, it’s gone, and I’ve eaten four times the recommended serving size.

Now I try to eat at the kitchen table and savour the goodness of a homemade meal.

Not beating myself up about slip-ups: the big problem with emotional or binge eating is that it can create a vicious cycle. You eat until you feel sick, and then you eat more because you are so disgusted in yourself.

I know it doesn’t make any logical sense, but neither does alcoholism or smoking cigarettes. All addictions fall squarely in the mental health arena, and that is why it is always best to speak to a health professional if you feel you may have an addiction of any kind.

As for me, I’m going to keep moving forward with my health goals. I will try to remind myself not of the self-loathing I feel when eating a pan of nachos, but instead, the joy that comes with going for a late-night walk with the dog or gardening in the back yard when I’m feeling lonely.

Our addictions do not have to define us; we just need the courage to look them in the face and tell them they don’t taste good anymore.