EATING YOUR FEELINGS

When your immediate response to stress is to stuff your face

Standing in the kitchen of the co-working space where I write for a living, I swirl a teaspoon around my third cup of coffee of the day. My mental to-do list runs through my head: three deadlines in the next 24 hours, 12 emails that need a reply now and the CV of a friend that I’ve promised to proofread before her job interview tomorrow. I’m still stirring when I feel the familiar low-key panic bubbling through my body. As if on autopilot, I push the mug to one side and my legs direct me towards the office treat table, where a box of still-warm doughnuts is perched. My fingers are dusty with sugar and strawberry jam coats my lips before it’s dawned on me what’s happened. My name is Giselle, and I eat my feelings – specifically, the ones sponsored by cortisol. A row with a family member can send me wrist-deep into a ‘sharing pack’ of Kettle Chips; the mounting panic of having nothing to wear can drive me straight out of the changing room and under the Golden Arches. Rational or not, conscious or otherwise, the decision’s been made. And I suspect I’m not the only one for whom a Krispy Kreme or two is the culinary equivalent of a stress ball. A study published last year in the journal Obesity (can you see where this is going?) found that being exposed to high levels of cortisol over several months was associated with being… kind? Funny? Quick-witted? Nope. Heavily overweight. The study was observational, meaning the researchers don’t know why the link existed, but it suggests that more of us are medicating our frazzled minds with flapjacks than we would care to admit. Meanwhile, a separate study published in The Journals Of Gerontology found that greater relationship stress was linked with increased waist circumference over time. So the two-minute window between the aggy text exchange with your partner and reaching for a jar of nut butter and a spoon is more than coincidence. The problem is, it isn’t only my waistline that’s suffering. ‘Emotional eating is a coping mechanism,’ says psychotherapist Stella Stathi, who specialises in eating disorders and body image (bodyprema.com). ‘But once the comforting effect of food has passed, the underlying emotions will return, which makes it much more likely for the individual to reach for food again, which can turn into a vicious circle. And experiencing this kind of emotional eating can become the trigger for an eating disorder.’

BORN TO BINGE?

I want to know why my feet carry me to the snack table before my mind has a chance to protest. ‘The brain is the controller of everything a person does, and when it’s in stress mode, the amygdala (which triggers

More and more of us are selfmedicating our frazzled minds with flapjacks

fear), the nucleus accumbens (in charge of reward) and the hypothalamus (your appetite controller) dysregulate,’ says Dr Laurel Mellin, an associate clinical professor at the University of California, who’s just published The Stress Eating Solution, the first book on the neuroscience of stress eating. ‘A cascade of biochemical changes are activated that increase hunger, slow metabolism and encourage fat deposition.’ The science explains why I’m never hungrier than I am on deadline, but not why my stress drives me to the biscuit tin when someone else’s drives them to insomnia or tears. Am I more likely to eat my feelings than the next person? Yes, if one theory under investigation is to be believed. Exploring the idea that some people are more genetically predisposed to stress-eat than others, researchers from York University in Canada used DNA testing to explore the genetic markers associated with binge-eating. In your body, the DRD2 gene is a key player in dopamine release, while the OPRM1 gene is thought to be integral to the ‘addiction’ circuits of the brain; the two mechanisms work together to gauge the ‘reward value’ of food, which influences eating behaviour. Participants in the York study were assessed using the Power of Food Scale, designed to unpick the complex web of emotions, such as anticipation, expectation and memory, that work together to inform your decision to chow down on pizza after a bad day. Researchers found that, as a group, those with binge-eating disorder had more G allele receptors for the OPRM1 gene, suggesting that they were more sensitive to the hedonic properties of food than those without the disorder. ‘This predisposition can be easily exploited in our current environment, with its highly visible and easily accessible surfeit of sweet and fatty things to eat,’ write the authors, suggesting they have spent as much time in Five Guys as I have.

But my brain (and yours) has also been building its own reward system for years. ‘Responding to small, daily stresses by eating sugary, processed treats is caused by the brain activating a stress-eating wire, thanks to long-term potentiation – a process of encoding stressful experience into circuits that control our lasting responses,’ says Dr Mellin. ‘The hand that reaches for the biscuit jar is driven by a circuit that was encoded by an experience of stress-eating long before. That wire unleashes chemical and electrical impulses that make you overeat.’ It rings true. I grew up in a family where eating out was our quality time, so when I crave happiness and security, I turn to food to replicate those feelings. What science I am aware of, is that if I eat something I like, my brain releases the chemical dopamine, a neurotransmitter that communicates with the pleasure and reward centres of the brain. It’s said to be the same surge as that you’d get when taking highly addictive drugs, like cocaine. It means that while these habits are all too easy to form, they’re hard to break. Hard, but not impossible – and the secret could lie in something called neuroplasticity. ‘It’s a neuroscience-based approach to weight loss that focuses on changing the brain’s wiring that triggers stress-eating,’ says Dr Mellin. Designed to target and weaken the circuits, emotional brain training (EBT) works first by identifying your triggers, then by activating the offending circuit in order to reprogramme it. Think of it as an emotional override to repair your brain’s faulty instructions. EBT still needs more research, but preliminary studies have shown that, while you may not drop as many pounds as you would with behavioural changes such as doing more exercise, weight loss from EBT tends to be sustained. What’s more, it can also improve stress, depression and blood pressure levels. I decide to give it a go. In order to break my circuits, I first need to activate them. This part, I like. I spend the next week diarising my stressors – making a note every time I reach for a chocolate Hobnob. Next, according to the online EBT course, I’m supposed to create moments of joy – experiencing a period of mindfulness, focusing on my family or on body positivity – and remind myself of them during these stressful periods. These would then graduate to four key ‘power statements’. Think: ‘I’m beautiful’ or ‘I deserve to treat myself well’. It soon becomes apparent that my ‘trigger times’ are mid-afternoon, then again late at night if I’m anticipating a stressful next day. Days when I haven’t exercised are problematic, too. I’m a fan of high-impact cardio, like boxing, and I know it serves as a source of stress relief for me. I don’t need a master’s degree in psychology to see that I’m self-medicating stress with food on rest days. In addition to EBT, Dr Amalia Annaradnam from The London Hormone Clinic (londonhormoneclinic.com) tells me that I should prioritise good nutrition. ‘Eating a balanced diet full of protein and vegetables will mean your body becomes less used to spikes in blood sugar, which can help,’ she explains. ‘Tiredness means the body will run on empty and release cortisol, meaning you look for fast fixes, so try to get your eight hours and exercise regularly. There’s no cure as such, and I know I haven’t eaten my last doughnut, but becoming aware of what my triggers are – and what’s actually going on in my brain – will hopefully make me more mindful when I turn to jam-filled commodities as a cry for help.

‘Once the comforting effect of food has passed, the underlying emotions will return’