Food noise, feral nights, and the fights I don’t always win.
In aid of National Eating Disorder Week (23 Feb – 1 March 2026), I want to share my life healing from Binge Eating Disorder.
Let me say something right off the bat that I’ve had to learn the hard way.
You don’t deserve to binge.
Not after a hard day.
Not after a productive day.
Not because you’ve “been good”.
Not because you’ve “already messed up”.
For years, I treated bingeing like it was part of my personality. Like it was just something I did. A coping mechanism. A celebration. A punishment. A secret reward. Thats the thing it was always secret, behind closed doors. My secret shame.
But if I’m being honest, the binge is never really about the food. It never was.
It starts in my head.
The food noise, it’s constant. And I don’t mean the sound of someone chewing like they’re eating gravel, or the crinkling of wrappers, although that gets on my nerves too, ha.
I mean the noise in my head.
It’s literally like having a mini Jess inside my head running in the background of my life, and all she yabbers on about is food. What I have eaten. What I haven’t. What I’m allowed. What I’m restricting. What’s in the press. What I could pick up tomorrow. How I’ll bargain with myself to “be better” next week.
I can be eating and already thinking about the next thing. Not enjoying what’s in front of me because my brain is scanning ahead. I can be full and still feel unsettled, like it wasn’t enough or it wasn’t right. I can be mid-conversation, nodding and smiling, while half my mind is calculating what next.
And when I try to be “good”, when I restrict, when I cut things out, when I promise control… the noise doesn’t calm down. It gets louder. Sharper. More obsessive. Restriction doesn’t silence it. It winds it up.
Some days it hums in the background. Other days it screams.
It’s a continual loop.
What can I have?
When can I have it?
How much is “too much”?
Can I get away with it?
Can I replace it before anyone sees?
Should I wait?
Should I just start now?
Should I just eat all of it?
If I’ve already messed up, does it even matter?
Why can’t I switch this off?
Should I just give in?
Should I just give up?
Tomorrow. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.
It is exhausting carrying that constant commentary around. It’s not hunger. It’s not greed. It’s mental clutter that never EVER switches off.
And then there’s the secrecy. The planning to eat alone. Waiting until the house is quiet. Eating late so no one sees. Mentally noting what needs to be replaced in the cupboard so it doesn’t look obvious. That quiet, calculated behaviour that feels so small but weighs so heavy.
That’s food noise.
It’s not dramatic. It’s not attention-seeking. It’s a brain that doesn’t know how to be quiet around food.
And that’s the heartbreaking part – it’s constant. It follows you into the kitchen, into the car, into bed. It’s there on good days and bad days. It’s there when you’re proud of yourself and when you’re disappointed. It’s just… there.
And when you live with that kind of noise long enough, the binge can start to feel like the only way to shut it up, even though it never really does.
When the noise gets loud enough, that’s when the feral nights happen.
The nights where I’m not even tasting anything. Where it feels urgent. Where I’m standing in the kitchen eating quickly, almost disconnected, like I’m trying to outrun something inside my own head.
It’s not glamorous. It’s not comforting. It’s frantic.
And afterwards? It’s heavy. Physically and emotionally.
The stomach ache.
The shame.
The self-criticism.
The “I’ll start Monday.”The promising to be different next week.
You don’t deserve that spiral.
And by the way, I’m not writing this from a healed, polished, perfectly disciplined place. I still struggle. The food noise is still something I deal with. I still catch myself planning, thinking, negotiating. I still have moments where the urge feels bigger than my goals.
This isn’t a neat success story.
It’s an ongoing fight.
What I have realised, though, and this deserves a post of its own because it goes deeper than I can fit here… is that this didn’t come out of nowhere. I’ve come to understand why I used food the way I did. What it was soothing. What it was distracting me from. What it was giving me that I wasn’t giving myself in other ways.
There’s a root to it. There always is.
And once you see the root, you can’t unsee it.
But even with awareness, the habit doesn’t just vanish. Knowing the cause doesn’t magically silence the food noise. It just means I’m fighting it with my eyes open now.
When you’re rebuilding yourself… your habits, your body, your mindset – you start to see that you can’t keep calling self-sabotage a reward.
You don’t deserve to binge.
Not because you should feel ashamed.
But because you deserve peace.
You deserve to eat without secrecy.
To celebrate without spiralling.
To cope without hurting your own body.
The version of me I’m growing into isn’t perfect. She still has loud-brain days. She still has urges. But she’s learning to pause. To question the noise. To sit in discomfort for five minutes longer than she used to.
And when she slips, she doesn’t turn one night into a week.
She doesn’t say, “Well, I’ve ruined it now.”
She just starts again the next morning. Quietly.
Because this isn’t about being dramatic. It’s not about punishing myself into discipline. It’s about standards. My standard now is this: I don’t reward myself with self-destruction.
A treat can be intentional.
A meal can be enjoyable.
But a binge?
That’s not a prize.
That’s a coping mechanism that outlived its purpose.
And I’m allowed to outgrow it.
You don’t deserve the cycle.
And I’m still fighting it too.
If you’re reading this and recognsie yourself in any of this, whether its binge eating or other forms of disordered eating, or struggles with food and body image – you are not alone. Getting help isn’t a weakness, it’s a lifeline. You can reach out to your GP, a registered dietician, or a therapist who specialises in eating disorders. Most local community centres or family resource centres have low cost counselling if you need it. In Ireland, supports include Bodywhys (The Eating Disorders Association of Ireland) click here for the link to their support services page with all contact information. You deserve help, support, and understanding. Taking that first step can change everything.
by Jessica Shorten 