Problem

Self analysis never makes good blog reading, and self disgust is even worse. That said, here goes:

I am a binge eater. I don't know why. I desperately need to stop.

At unpredictable intervals (hours to days) I shift into 'shovel mode', which involves rapidly and continiously eating whatever is available, until I'm uncomfortably overstuffed. Occasionally the impulse is strong enough that I eat even more after that.

It might be fruit and salad, or bread and cheese, or chocolate and sweets. Convenience junk foods are, of course, more readily available.

Taste is a consideration in what I select from the kitchen, but not a major one. If the pasta is too salty, the bread stale or the pears unripe, it doesn't slow me down much. I've eaten big plates of rubbery reheated junk food, and pies with a taste and texture that marks them as obviously past their sell-by date.

There is something robotic about the act, almost as though it were an involuntary reflex that I can see and feel but not surpress. Obviously I don't cook and eat a plate of chicken and chips, or carefully put together an overlarge bagette sandwich with three kinds of cheese, without awareness of what I'm doing. I'm fully aware and unhappy about it, but for some reason do it anyway.

This isn't precisely an issue of willpower. It's not that I weakly give in to a temptation to indulge a guilty pleasure, because there isn't much pleasure. It's more like a deeply ingrained habit, except there's no predictable timetable or event which triggers it.

Why do I do this? I'm not especially unhappy - except about having destroyed my health with food - so it's not comfort eating per se. Besides, I've been doing it since about age 13, and it's persisted largely unchanged through several periods of clinical depression and times of personal fulfilment - even joy.

There was a time about two years ago when my 'ordinary' appitite plumetted during the only time in my life I was infatuated with another person. I actually lost weight during those six months, but continued to binge.

I am a little over 16 stone (about 225 lbs), which at 5'7'' is not good. Climbing stairs gets me out of breath, which should not be the case at age 34. I can't get into most of my clothes and I look preposterous.

I need to break out of this loop. It's killing my body slowly and my hopes somewhat faster. What am I doing wrong? What factor have I missed? Why do I behave in this stupid way and what must I do to stop it?