Hello, My Name is Erin, and I'm a Foodaholic

I've been thinking a lot lately about food addiction. I know that food addiction is a controversial term, some people saying that everyone is "addicted" to food because we can't live without it, and other people saying that it's a glutton's justification for eating whatever they want. I don't know how to argue with people beyond saying that my behavior with food mirrors that of someone with an addiction to alcohol or drugs. Here's a list from WebMD describing signs of a drug addiction, and in parenthesis I'll add how it applies to me:

• You're not using medications in the way they're prescribed. You take larger doses, or take the drug more often than the prescription calls for. Or you use the medicine in a form not prescribed, such as crushing pills.  (Eating food other than the "prescribed" way, like eating all day long,  eating too much, always eating junk food rather than healthy food)
• You go to more than one doctor to get prescriptions for the same drug or problem. (Going from restaurant to restaurant ordering food at each so that I'm not judged for buying a lot at one place or for eating at one place multiple times a day. Yes, I'm that person.)
• You use meds prescribed for other people. (Eating other people's food. "Are you going to eat that?" is a familiar question.)
• You avoid telling the doctor about all the drugs you're taking. (Nobody knows how much I used to eat. There's no way I wanted to tell anyone when I ate an entire cheesecake in a day and then almost bought another one because I was craving more.)
• You keep taking a drug after it's no longer needed for a health problem. (Eating food when you're not hungry anymore, or even when you're completely stuffed you still want more. Enough is never enough.)
• You need more and more of a substance to get the same effects, and you can take more before you feel an effect. (Again, enough is never enough. I could eat all day, every day, and still feel like I HAD TO HAVE THE FOOD OR I WAS GOING TO GO INSANE.  It's the elusive "high" that people talk about that gets harder and harder to reach.)
• You feel strange when the drug wears off. You may be shaky, depressed, sick to your stomach, sweat, or have headaches. You may also be tired or not hungry. In severe cases, you could even be confused, have seizures, or run a fever. (Obviously I wouldn't have seizures from going without food for a couple of hours, or even days, but yes, depressed, angry, or having obsessive thoughts about food. Actually, when I eat a normal amount of food (e.g. not eating until I was stuffed to the gills), the way I would describe the feeling is just "empty." Not physically; I'm not saying that I'm still hungry. Just emotionally and mentally empty. So you could probably call that depression, I guess.)
• You can't stop yourself from using the drug, even if you want to. You are still using even though it's making bad things happen in your life, like trouble with friends, family, work, or the law. (YAAAAAHHHHHHHHSSSSS. I can be SO good on a diet for a long time, and then it's like an out of body experience watching myself scarf down a box of donuts and 2 pints of Hagaan Daaz.  I know I don't want it, I don't even like it that much, and I know it's bad for me, SO BAD, but there have been times where I felt that I LITERALLY COULD NOT STOP MYSELF. )
• You spend a lot of your time thinking about the drug: how to get more, when you'll take it, how good you feel, or how bad you feel afterward. (I think about food constantly, from the minute I wake up, to the minute I fall asleep. If I'm having a converstaion with and seem invested, I am, but just know that a part of me is trying really hard to keep eye contact with you so that I don't stare longingly at whatever it is that you're eating, and another part of me is planning on buying some of whatever it is for myself after we're done talking.)
• You have a hard time giving yourself limits. You might say you'll only use "so much" but then can't stop and end up using twice that amount. Or you use it more often than you meant to. (There's no such thing as portion control. There is no such thing as having "just one cookie instead of 18." Like I said, there are times I could not stop myself, even if I start the day with the best intentions.)
• You've lost interest in things you once liked to do. (Eating takes over everything else. There have been plenty of times I've turned down invitations to do things with friends and family, because I was planning on bingeing that night.)
• You've begun having trouble doing normal daily things, like cooking or working. (Okay, cooking is a dumb example in this case, because that's probably what I'd be doing. I guess I could always do what I needed to, like going to work or church, but food is always a distraction. Probably because, as opposed to other drugs, I can get food at work or church.)
• You drive or do other dangerous things when you are on the drug. (I saw a sign on the road the other day that said "Put down the burger and fries and just drive," so it must actually be a problem.)
• You borrow or steal money to pay for drugs. (Uuum, yeah... Stealing food from other people is probably one of the more shameful and embarrassing things I've done, and I'm so sorry about it, so please be kind, because this is really hard to talk about. I have a handful of memories from childhood relating to this, actually. Stealing a mini Tootsie Roll from a gas station; stealing cinnamon bears at my grandma's house when later I found out she was going to give those to us, anyway;  swiping food from family or roommates that obviously was not meant for me.)
• You hide the drug use or the effect it is having on you from others. (Yep. Like I said, nobody ever knew how much I ate, and even with how much I ate, that was me showing restraint. Nobody knew how much I actually WANTED to eat, which was even worse.)
• You're having trouble getting along with co-workers, teachers, friends, or family members. They complain more about how you act or how you've changed. (Nobody complained about it, but SO many people expressed concern)
• You sleep too much or too little, compared to how you used to. (If I wasn't eating, I always wanted to sleep to pass the time until I could eat again)
• You look different. You may have bloodshot eyes, bad breath, shakes or tremors, frequent bloody noses. (Weight gain. Duh)
• You have a new set of friends with whom you do drugs and go to different places to use the drugs. (I have friends and family who I can depend on to eat junk food with me, and who let me get away with it. If someone calls me out, I can be manipulative and sneaky enough to get my way, or I'll just go hang out with someone else, or be by myself. It's absolutely not something that I'm proud of. They're habits I'm trying really hard to break.)

Things are slightly better now. I wish I could say that the surgery has cured me and that I don't have these problems. Since my surgery, I've had times where I've been really good about defeating these, and times where these habits and feelings have crept up on me. This is a conversation and a battle that constantly goes on in my head, and it is RELENTLESS. Sometimes I feel like it's such a burden that it's squashing me. Other times I feel strong and that I can actually defeat it.

I don't know how exactly I wormed my way so far down this rabbit hole. There's no one thing that I can pinpoint and say, "This is why I'm fat and can't get away from things that are bad for me." It was gradual over a lifetime. As such, I know there's no one thing that will help me overcome this addiction. And the truth of the matter is that I don't think that these problems will ever leave me. I don't imagine that I'll ever be 100% free. But I'm trying really hard to make sure that I have more good days than bad.

Hopefully you guys who read this post will better understand what I mean when I say that I have food addiction. Whatever the official stance is about food addiction, I believe that it's real and it's something that I have. Please don't write it off, or underestimate how difficult this is. And do me a favor and don't tell me that you have it, too, when you're eating your third cookie and worried about losing 20 pounds. I want to be perfectly understood when I say that food addiction could have killed me if I hadn't had weight loss surgery, and it was ruining my life. It still does, some days, and unless I'm careful and work really hard, it could still do both of those things. 

I don't want to end this on a negative note. Despite the difficulties, life is better than it has been for a long time, and it'll continue to improve if I keep working hard. I've lost 145 pounds, I'm more active, my dating life is better, I have a cooler wardrobe, and I have a healthy life to look forward to. That's nothing to sneeze at.