Food, the addiction

I read a study today which supported something I have contended for quite some time, but is often doubted by many. The study compared responses in the brain to food to responses to addictive substances. It was a small study of only 48 women, and not constructed with impeccable validity, but the brain scans suggested that the brains of those who are addicted to drugs and those potentially addicted to food are having the same sorts of responses.

This isn't an "a-ha" moment for me in which I am asserting triumphantly that I was "right" because one little study lends credence to the notion that people actually can be addicted to food. Frankly, brain scans are of little interest to me in "proving" what I believe. I have always seen addiction as a psychological issue. The fact that physiological analysis can be done to back that up is gravy. It's behavior that matters, and behavior that must be changed if people want to change their lives in the directions they'd prefer to go.

I knew I was addicted to food. I say "was" but recent events make me wonder if I still am and always will be. As my last several posts indicate, I've been in a state of enormous difficulty in my life as of late. It's the result of ongoing issues which, as of about 3 days ago, are starting to be resolved. It's important to note that, for the last 5 months as things have gotten worse emotionally, I have been hungrier than ever. This could be mere coincidence, but as of the breaking point after which things started to clear up and solutions looked like they may be at hand, that constant hunger has vanished.

I've written before that we are programmed to eat when stressed, but I'd gotten past the point where normal everyday stress drove me to eat. It was only the oppressive and psychologically damaging weight of long-term emotional difficulty that set off that hunger. Even in the face of it, I wasn't overeating, but I was having to battle wanting to eat all of the time regardless of my sense of actual physical satiety (that is, there was food in my stomach and sugar in my blood stream). I was starting to feel as if I'd jumped back to the point where I'd have to spend all day thinking about food and trying not to overeat, but now I realize that was not what it was.

The bottom line was that, while I consciously do not have a food addiction and do not think about having a pint of ice cream to comfort me, unconsciously and/or biochemically, I still have the same stress responses that compel me to eat when I am under prolonged difficulty and intense stress. I didn't act on the impulses to my detriment, but it was adding another layer of emotional wear and tear to my life as I struggled with a plethora of other problems.

This reminded me all too clearly that much of my weight loss to date has occurred under relatively ideal circumstances. Those who are in far less positive circumstances than me are going to struggle more as they respond both biologically and psychologically to overwhelming urges to eat when stressed. While I didn't need this reminder to empathize with others who are trying to lose weight, I was given it nonetheless. 

I no longer scream (for ice cream)

One of my friends on FaceBook wrote a status update today which essentially said, 'ice cream fixes everything'. Most people probably smiled at that and recognized the power of a small pleasure to lift ones spirit after a bad day. I felt a little melancholy.

Though I have largely conditioned myself not to turn to food for comfort, I still remember how comforting it can be and sometimes grow somewhat nostalgic for the days when food worked its miracles on my emotional state. There were days when I'd be so depressed and dispirited and my husband would go out and buy me a pint of ice cream and I'd eat the whole thing and feel better. It wasn't simply the taste and the fatty goodness of it all, it was also the indulgence. It was doing something that was all about giving me exactly what I wanted when I "needed" it. It was a pleasure that was intensely personal, deeply gratifying, and cost very little in my estimation at the time. After all, I was already fat, so what was getting a little fatter in the service of medicating my mood?

I imagine that this feeling contributes in large part to the relapses that people who quit smoking, drinking or doing drugs have. They may work long and hard to get over their addictions and stay free of their vices for years only to suddenly get hooked again. People wonder why this happens and shake their heads thinking that it's puzzling how someone can "choose" to return to behavior which was so destructive after experiencing what they imagine to be years free of their addictions.

I think I can empathize with those who invite the monkey back onto their backs. Just because the grip food has on me has been weakened such that I can break free almost all of the time doesn't mean I don't remember how pleasing it was at times to be safely in its grasp. I don't long for food, but I do desire what it once gave me.

I realize that this was all an illusion as the food, just like drugs, didn't solve anything. I also knew then and know now that eating to medicate my pain was physically destructive. The thing that wasn't an illusion was that food improved my emotional state. A lot of people lie to themselves in the service of sticking to their food plans or diets and say, "food was the cause of my problem, not the solution." These are the same people who think being thin will transform their lives. Many of my problems were caused by food, but just as many were simply the sort of difficulties every single person in a developed nation deals with all of the time. I had more or different problems related to weight, but there was plenty of pain in my life even without incorporating the weight-related suffering.

I'm not going to go back to medicating my emotional difficulties with food, but I'm also not going to pretend that it didn't work a sort of "magic" on me that nothing else will ever accomplish. The only thing that even comes close to having the same mental transformative properties as food is my husband, and try as he might, he cannot and should not be a palliative for my emotional suffering. He does his best, but he can't be there every moment, nor do I expect him to. I have to just learn to live with the pain and depression when it washes over me. I have to grit my teeth and bear it, because I'm guessing that's what most people who aren't medicating themselves with food, drink, drugs or sex are doing.

Eating well and in moderation makes my body feel better, but it doesn't do anything for my emotional turmoil. Exercising improves my stamina and strength and it even helps me relieve stress and anxiety at times, but it doesn't do what food used to do when it comes to lifting me from depression or allowing me to get away from myself mentally when I'm in distress. There was an almost sublime pleasure in immersing myself in food when I was in pain, and I will likely never forget that. I don't think I should, nor do I think I should try to convince myself that it wasn't a good feeling. It was.

No amount of prattling about 'nothing tasting as good as thin feels' is going to convince me otherwise. Trust me when I say that, for me, nothing tasted as good as food when I was depressed. I miss what food used to do for me, but not enough to overlook what it did to my body. I may want to feel what I used to feel when a pint of ice cream made me happy, but not enough to go back.

Brain, Blood, Stomach, and Psyche

I’ve been pondering the nature of hunger as of late, and where it comes from and how to tamp down its insistent cries for attention. This speculation was set off by a question I and others with weight problems have asked ourselves many times. That question is, what is “real” hunger?

My feeling is that all hunger is “real” in terms of the strength of insistence that you eat, but I think that what the question is meant to ask is “when does the body really need food as opposed to want it?” For many people, the most useful answer is “in the stomach”. When the stomach is empty and grumbling, you are likely experiencing true biological hunger.

Unfortunately, getting to the stage of a demanding stomach takes awhile and can be very uncomfortable for most people. Part of me wonders if metabolically speaking waiting for a grumbling gut is akin to waiting for a dry mouth to drink. That is, it may not necessarily be the best to wait that long to eat as there may be some slow down in your overall metabolism.

The place in which most people in developed countries feel hunger is in the blood. That is, their body responds to dips and spikes in their blood glucose levels and demands more when the levels drop. Because of processed food, we experience more blood sugar fluctuation than our ancestors likely did and our bodies have become accustomed to the roller coaster ride and attempted to deal with it. This can result in insulin resistance, which makes the hunger ride all the rougher.

One neglected area where hunger becomes an issue is the brain. An immense amount of energy is used by the brain and those who do a lot of work which requires concentration and thinking are going to find the brain signaling a desire for quick energy. The sugar fixes that people who do computer programming or desk work crave aren’t based on boredom, fatigue or the imagination. They are the result of the brain saying, “I’m running low on glucose to do my job. Please feed me.”

The most dismissed type of hunger, is that which comes from the psyche or that which is based on using food as a palliative for emotional distress. Somehow, the idea that taking drugs, drinking alcohol, having sex, exercising, etc. can be overdone to cope with stress is well understood, and those with addictive or compulsive behavior in regard to those emotional release valves are seen as diseases to be regarded with patience and compassion. Eating too much to cope is seen as nothing more than disgusting gluttony and character weakness.

My opinion has always been that food has turned into the addiction of choice for Americans because American culture has done a great deal to warn and educate people about the nature of other forms of addictions and the risks they carry. How many characters in movies, books, and television shows have been smokers, drinkers, or sex addicts who have lived out the destruction and consequences as warnings to us? Not only that, but treatment for these people is spelled out. For food addicts, the answer is very often, “eat less, exercise more, you fat pig!” “Just do it,” is not an answer to the psychological addiction to food that many people (including myself) have.

If you want to handle hunger more effectively, I think it is useful to consider all factors that drive it rather than to focus only on one. Most people are likely driven to overeating by one more than another, but to some extent, we are all driven by all of them.