I was obese as a child – I’d steal sweets. When I was sent out of class for disruptive behaviour, aged 11, I’d rummage through everyone’s bags in the corridor and take their crisps.
I hadn’t got stretch marks yet – but by the age of 34, I looked like a huge cannonball. My eating disorder started young. I had feelings I didn’t know how to process, and food helped me to feel okay.
My parents had separated, and I lived with my mum in East Sussex. She was a cannabis addict and not emotionally available. I remember her boyfriend getting angry with me as I was eating potatoes with my hands, as it was quicker to ingest it all.
My best friend moved to South Africa when I was about 13 and I ended up in a new group of friends drinking heavily. I became a DJ and music producer.
Food wasn’t such a problem during my late teens, teens to early Twenties, because substance abuse took its place, but my life had got to a place where I had to quit drinking at 24, because it was killing me.
It just so happened that 12-step recovery spoke to me – I went to some meetings and they alleviated my desire to drink, which is kind of miraculous.
I got sober, quit cigarettes at 25, and picked up food again. Bang. I couldn’t deal with all the anger and the rage that came up – the unaddressed feelings. My food addiction was rampant. It was back with a vengeance because I had no crutch.
I went from 11.5st up to 18.5st over the next few years. I gave myself carte blanche to eat whatever I wanted, justifying it because it’d been so hard giving up substances.
At the time, I was living in Brighton and was doing takeaways. When Deliveroo became available, it was like convenience heaven. I was eating 7,000 calories in one sitting – I’d order three Deliveroos and spend £30 on each one.
The weird thing about an eating addiction is that it’s not about, “Am I hungry?” I always felt hungry. I’d order all this food to my house – and I’d eat it until I felt stuffed, but I’d still want more. I remember going through the McDonald’s drive-through five times – sometimes not even parking up to eat the food. The first time it’d be 20 nuggets, the second time two double cheeseburgers and a milkshake, the next time it was another double cheeseburger, then fries, and the last time it would be a McFlurry and an apple pie.
But most of the time I was at home ordering meals on food apps. Eating alone is a lot better because you don’t feel the shame of people looking at you.
It was always impulsive. I’d be spending my rent money on Deliveroo. When there was a minimum order on items like donuts, I’d put three in the fridge for another time, but as soon as I had eaten the first one, I’d walk to the fridge like a zombie, for the rest.
This happened non-stop. When I moved to London 10 years ago, I’d order the same pizza every single night, with cream cheese-filled jalapenos, and some potato wedges – the healthier choice. The pizza would always be rubbery and cold by the end. It would all just taste horrible, but I’d have to finish it.
It would definitely take one or two portions of food until my feelings were substantially numbed, but then I wouldn’t feel sad or depressed anymore. I just felt stuffed.
I have deleted the Deliveroo app so many times, then reinstalled it. I’d decide not to do Deliveroo, then have a games night in or something social, feel uncomfortable and unprepared and then order Deliveroo – and do it over, and over again.
The things that I ordered would deteriorate from something healthy to the worst thing on the menu. I’d decide not to get the membership to Deliveroo as I wanted to give it up, then find I ordered it so many times – yet I was still paying full price for each delivery. I’d become really good at calling them up and getting a full refund – by telling them it’s missing one ingredient when it did. I’d say: “Look how many meals I’m ordering. Are you sure you want to lose me as a customer?” I was at a real low point.
Food is such an embarrassing addiction to have – I’ve lost the shame around having an eating disorder now that I’ve found the right help for it. There were a lot of stains on the floors and the walls and stacks of pizza boxes – the good thing about Deliveroo is you don’t have to do any washing up. I have stretch marks on my stomach from overeating.
Rock bottoms come at different times. We only get a few windows of opportunity and it depends on how it is phrased, who says it, and the desire to change.
I thought “I can’t call Deliveroo one more time,” pretty much every night. I said to myself: “I can’t do this anymore. I’m killing myself.” But the obsession and compulsion to pick up my phone and order food was overwhelming.
A friend of mine said she was going to a 12-step recovery meeting, and did I want to go with her? I had a massive crush on her – so the stars aligned, and I went with her to Overeaters Anonymous. Suddenly, I heard what I needed to hear – and I started to practice abstinence with food. There are loads of different 12-step food fellowships – they all have slightly different approaches: three meals a day with nothing in between, weighing and measuring your food, and eating whatever you want but no sugar or white flour. I found abstaining from certain trigger foods the most achievable.
When I eat some crisps, for example, it’s like cocaine. Someone once told me that popcorn was the healthy option – so I bought a popcorn machine. I bought 500g bags of kernels – it’s about 100g per basin of popcorn. And I’d just end up doing the whole thing – eating over 3,000 calories of popcorn. I had to delete my Deliveroo app and replace the addictive behaviours with something new: talking to a friend or going to a recovery meeting.
There are certain foods I can’t eat – we call them “alcoholic foods” or “red foods” – so I’ve cut out chips, crisps, donuts, chocolates, biscuits, and pizza. Some foods are OK to eat but there is a danger of them triggering something, so for me, that’s sugar-free sweets, among other things.
It helps me to have a date that I stopped eating the “red food” – I haven’t ordered Deliveroo for eight years. I feel proud of myself – I don’t miss it at all. Sometimes giving up your favourite thing makes your life 100 times better.
It takes vigilance – but, now at 13st, I’m a much happier person now. I have my freedom back. I’d spent over a decade without a girlfriend – or any romantic interest at all. To get back on the wagon was such a painful and difficult process, thinking my love life was completely written off. I was 28, and I saw my stretch marks.
As a man, I was so ashamed of that. I felt so fat that I ate to feel better about it. It was a vicious cycle. I don’t use Deliveroo anymore – I make all my meals myself, prepare the food and enjoy doing that. After seeing a nutritionist and working out what a balanced meal looks like, I had to re-educate myself. I’ve got my freedom back.
For anyone struggling with the issues raised in this article, eating disorder charity Beat’s helpline is available 365 days a year on 0808 801 0677. NCFED offers information, resources and counselling for those suffering from eating disorders, as well as their support networks. Visit eating-disorders.org.uk or call 0845 838 2040
, 43, a London-based life coach and music producer, suffered from food addiction and went up to 18.5st, ordering vast quantities on Deliveroo – and spending all his rent money. He’s now found recovery, he tells Charlotte Cripps){kind=link}