The Addiction That Follows You Everywhere

I don’t have all the answers about food addiction, just mine.

And here’s one of the first: I used to say, “I wish I were addicted to drugs, gambling, or alcohol.”

People called me out for that. But here’s why I said it: they can technically stop that act. I can’t stop eating.

Before opioids, food addiction was the number one mental health–linked killer. And it’s not just binge eating, it’s bulimia, anorexia, even exercise bulimia. I had a friend who counted every calorie, then burned every one off.

For me, it was everywhere: birthdays, funerals, holidays, hurricane parties, life's most significant events, all wrapped in food. I’d finish breakfast and already be plotting lunch and dinner. Dieting? Like putting a Band-Aid on a severed artery. This was deeper.

Food was my drug, my dopamine hit. It didn’t matter if the day was incredible (“time to celebrate”) or absolute shit (“food will fix this”).

People say, “Just change your mindset.” Easy? Easy is breathing. When food has been your coping mechanism for years, plus the trauma underneath, you can’t just flip a switch.

My shift came when I stopped making food the reward.

It’s not “I ate dinner, now I deserve ice cream” or “rough day, so I need soup for a hug.” Now, food is fuel and a story.

Cooking used to be killing me. Now it’s saving me.

Chefs in recovery often say, “Cooking saved my life.” I used to think, “Well, it’s killing me.” Then my friend Keith started asking, “Where are you?” when I cooked. That was his way of saying: be present. ’ Be mindful.

It turns out that science backs it: cooking can lower depression, build confidence, improve social connections, and boost mood. It works through mindful focus, creativity, tactile engagement, and the neuro-nutritional link between what you eat and how you feel.

Now, cooking and writing are my coping mechanisms. I push myself outside my comfort zone, try new cuisines, and stay present in the process. I use food to slow the chaos of the world, to feed not just my body but my soul, and the souls of others.

This is my story. My proof that change is possible.

If I can shift, so can you.