Appetite for Destruction
by Scott Hardie on April 19, 2013

My name is Scott, and I'm an addict.
I'm not an alcoholic. I almost never drink alcoholic beverages. Maybe five times in my life have I taken a sip. (Reading about the world of colorful and exotic and fun alcoholic drinks that I miss out on is what inspired the recurring Celebrity Goo Drinking Game.)
What I mean is that plain, simple addiction is how I've come to think about my eating disorder. I used to think that I just loved food, and associated it with feeling of happiness and security from my childhood, and dieting was a struggle because it's hard to stay away from the thing you love.
But on the rare times now that I break diet, I realize that food doesn't actually give me any pleasure. I indulge in the junk food and comfort foods of my younger days, and get no fun or enjoyment from them. What I do get, for a few hours anyway, is some relief from the endless drumbeat in my head saying, "Eat! Eat! Eat!"
I think about food all the time. I get such strong cravings for particular sandwiches or casseroles that I can taste them in my mouth, and smell them, and hear the crackle of the crusty bread as I take a bite. After a small meal on diet, no sooner do I take the final bite before I immediately crave a way to "plus" it: Have some fruit, my brain says. Buy a bag of pretzels from the vending machine. Hell, just go make a second meal. It will be delicious. I'll make sure to think about exactly how delicious it will be in vivid detail for the next several hours.
Recently, Kelly drove out of town for six days, leaving me alone in the house. I had planned to go off diet anyway -- it's always easier when I know in advance and can plan to resume the diet at a specific time -- but a curious thing happened. I found myself eating to check out of the world. I would turn on some show on Netflix and make a big heaping plate of whatever and gorge myself, and tune out of the world. My whole universe became the screen, the couch, the empty bowl in front of me, and the feeling that my belly was going to burst. Countless episodes would scroll by until I realized it was after midnight, and I would lumber off to bed in the dark, groaning like a zombie and muttering incoherently to myself.
I was drunk. The same way that I would drink booze to escape the world and the pressure of being conscious if I were an alcoholic, I was using copious servings of food to blast away the world until I didn't feel anything. It didn't matter what the food was: I could have eaten fresh or packaged, healthy or junk, homemade or take-out, as long as it was a large enough portion to obliterate me and finally quiet those cravings for a while.
Knowing this helps. Seeing myself "drunk" on food really illuminated my relationship with it. Knowing that I get zero actual pleasure from eating helps me to resist the endless cravings. And knowing that the cravings are the root of the problem helps me to fight the battle against my weight. I wish there was a safe and effective treatment for the cravings themselves, because everything else (dieting, exercise, surgery, therapy) seems like leaving the root cause of my weight untreated.
For anybody wondering: I am still dieting and still losing weight, down 80 pounds since last summer when I gave up on Atkins and returned to the low-calorie diet that works better for me. The belt keeps getting looser, I get more of a spring in my step every week, and it's a good feeling. But the urges to cram food in my face never, ever stop, except on rare occasions when I take a break from the diet, and then only briefly. The cravings torture me, and I hate them.
One Reply to Appetite for Destruction
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

Good Company and Busy Nights
Highlights from my last two weeks, in no particular order: - Miah Poisson, his fiancĂ©e Ines, and her friend Denise have always wanted to see The X Files, and it just so happens I have the complete series on DVD. We've started getting together every Monday night to watch a couple of episodes and eat sandwiches. I'm taking the opportunity to do something I wanted to do the first time I watched the series, which is keep a kill-count. Go »
Bad Housekeeping
If you're lazy like me, there's not a right time to put away the clean dishes. Who cares if you use them one-by-one out of the dishwasher? But there *is* a right time to discover that they're still dirty, and that's long before you're putting away the last couple of items after eating out of the dishwasher for days. Go »
Illinois 2013
Ten highlights of my just-concluded road trip to northern Illinois with Kelly, in chronological order: - Seeing lots of friends and family at our engagement party in St. Charles, our old hometown. I was glad to be able to talk to everyone there, and also glad that I now recognize almost everyone in Kelly's large family on sight. Go »
Rocky
Let's take a moment to mourn Rocky Aoki, who lived one hell of an interesting life. And that article barely even mentions his kids (in the sidebar), who have their own interesting lives. Go »
Screw Delta (Gotta Rant)
When I flew to Fargo a while back for Denise's wedding, I woke up at 2am to be out the door by 3am to get to Tampa by 4am to check in by 5am for a 6am flight. I stepped into the long Delta check-in line an hour and fifteen minutes before my flight, but I was concerned at the signs all over the place saying I would be turned away if I arrived less than an hour before the flight. Sure enough, it took me half an hour to get through the line, and the rude Delta clerk refused to let me on the plane even though I could easily make it to the gate in time. Go »
Lori Lancaster | May 12, 2013
[hidden by author request]