Less Lauren

Yesterday around 10 a.m., just as I was getting my work day started, the head of our Human Resources office sent out an all-staff e-mail saying that one of my friends and colleagues from a neighboring department had passed away unexpectedly over the weekend. No one has said what happened, but Brian was young, not even that much older than myself. I went to the bathroom, had a long cry, splashed some water on my face, and then I ate.

I ate this, to be exact. A double cheeseburger and a huge slice of chocolate cake from Good Stuff Eatery. And yes, I ate the cake first.

Now, I thought, might be a poignant time to reflect on the connection between emotions and food. It’s impossible to deny that there is a connection. Foods change the chemical functions of your body and can have varying effects on the brain. For example, not eating enough of one such chemical prominent in fish and shellfish, a fatty acid called docosahexaenoic acid (DHA), has been linked to the prevalence of depression in some countries including the United States. But emotional eating and comfort foods are about something different.

Comfort foods aren’t about the physiological, they’re about the emotional. They’re generally foods from our past, ones that invoke strong positive memories. But because these foods are lacking in nutritional value, case in point my “therapeutic” lunch, the act of emotional eating is unhealthy. But it’s that psychological link to the past that we crave, that makes us feel good, not necessarily the food itself. Everyone has these emotional triggers, and I don’t think there’s anyone on Earth who can say they’ve never splurged on a delicious, fatty treat when they were in a bad mood. I think this behavior is reinforced by the many holidays we have that are celebrated predominantly with food. You can argue that Thanksgiving is about being with family all you want, but the point of Thanksgiving in America today is to be with family around a huge table covered with more food than you could ever eat, and that doesn’t even include dessert. So now the question is, how to cope without turning to food?

When I was younger, I would eat mostly because I didn’t know what else to do. I ate when I was sad, angry, bored. It never made the emotions go away, but it made me feel like I was in control of something. Food was the constant. Friends and happy times would come and go, but the food would always be. Now that I’m older, the problem has subsided a bit as I’ve gained more control over my emotions, but the underlying urges are still there. And sometimes, like yesterday, they win. I just couldn’t bring myself to go fish out my dinky little Lean Cuisine from the fridge. Did I really need a huge piece of cake and a double cheeseburger? Probably not, but my judgment was impaired, and that’s where the danger lies.

I think an important thing to note here is that one splurge is not going to hurt you. Everyone has weak moments. By the time I got home from work last night I was feeling a little more normal. I had a small bowl of cereal for dinner and was able to write off my therapeutic lunch because I’d had an excellent workout at the gym that morning. I think it is chronic emotional eating that is the bigger culprit, and awareness is your primary weapon against it. The simple act of being aware that you’re only eating to make emotional pain go away will help you overcome it.

I hit a bit of a turning point in this respect when I was in college. I had a very work-intensive major and I also had two to three part time jobs at any given time. I remember one time in my sophomore year, it was a particularly busy season right before finals were due (in art school you have month-long final projects instead of final exams) and I had pulled two overnighters in a row, and early on the third day I was sitting at my desk finishing a paper for one of my non-art classes and I realized I hadn’t eaten in nearly two days. I had been so busy it just hadn’t occurred to me. Obviously I’m not suggesting that this behavior was any healthier, but for the first time in my life, something had broken my obsession with food. Having that outlet to pour myself into helped me come to terms with a lot of my unhealthy habits. It also taught me the beauty of routine, concentration, multitasking, and many other things that are integral parts of my personality today and help me stay sane(ish).

Contrary to popular stereotypes, I actually lost weight in college. That was really when the emotional overeating came under control. Being a workaholic has its own set of emotional issues that I’m just now starting to come to terms with, but I think age and emotional maturity are the key factors in balancing these out. I don’t know if I really have any answers on the particular subject of emotional eating, but I suppose the biggest lesson I learned during this period of self-reflection is that everyone is on a journey. Regardless of what path you take, that journey is yours alone. Emotional seasons come and go, but as long as your path is clear, you’ll get there.