Food Addiction as a Substance and a Process Addiction

Vanessa Kredler Author

We usually refer to food addiction as a substance use disorder. But can the process of eating also be addictive?

Food addiction - often referred to as ultra-processed food (UPF) addiction, ultra-processed food use disorder, sugar addiction, or carbohydrate addiction is typically framed as a substance addiction. Research validates that highly processed foods can be as addictive as drugs, triggering behaviours and brain responses similar to substance dependence. These foods hijack the brain’s dopamine reward system, making them particularly hard to resist. It’s important to recognise the addictive qualities of some of the foods we eat - or shall we say, food substances - as many of them are chemically formulated to make them irresistible.

The nuance of lived experience

And there is more nuance to it. Many people experience their addictive eating not just as substance-driven, but also as a process or behavioural addiction. This article recognises that both substance and behavioural addiction relating to food and eating can present. In this sense, the act of eating itself becomes compulsive and difficult to stop once started. Some argue, that's the difference between food addiction and compulsive eating. That’s why I wanted to write this piece. I wanted to honour that lived experience.

For as long as I can remember, my addiction revolved around ultra-processed and processed foods like pastries, cookies, cereals, bread, and chocolate. But even after I gave up these foods, the compulsion to overeat remained. I don’t know whether it was early childhood exposure to baby formula that got me hooked and triggered the compulsion to eat. Maybe. Maybe I was born with it. My inner wisdom says it's the latter. What I do remember is always wanting more. I was constantly switched on around food, and eating was the most soothing and exciting thing in my life, even as a young child.

In early recovery, once I eliminated the ultra-processed and processed foods, I found myself consuming massive quantities of whatever food was available. A typical breakfast for me at one point consisted of:

• 500g of plain yogurt
  

• A whole watermelon
  

• A kilo of grapes
  

• Three apples
  

At other times, I tried to eat high-protein meals because I’d heard that protein helps reduce binge urges. Still, I ended up eating:

• Half a roasted chicken
  

• Six eggs
  

• A whole lettuce and endless amounts of cucumber
  
  

At one point, I was eating so many carrots that my skin turned orange. 

Volume addiction

Among peers and food addiction professionals, this pattern is often described as "volume addiction"—the need to eat until uncomfortably full. While research on volume is addictive is limited, my personal experience suggests that eating to the point of being stuffed provided a sense of grounding. It calmed my overactive nervous system, shifting me from a hyper-aroused fight-or-flight state into a dorsal vagal, shutdown state, a kind of physiological collapse.

But for me, the process of eating went beyond the need for volume for nervous system regulation. It wasn’t just about reaching fullness. The act of eating itself was a mesmerising, trance-like experience that felt impossible to stop once started. As I began listening to others struggling with food addiction, I kept hearing the same thing:

“Once I start eating, I can’t stop.”
“It’s easier not to eat at all than to eat moderately.”
“Fasting is easier than eating.”
“I don’t have an off switch.”

This resonates deeply with me. Even after eleven years of abstinence, I still find that eating puts me "in the zone"—a dissociative, hypnotic state where pain, tension, headaches, and worries temporarily vanish. I'm totally absorbed in the YUM of the food.

In my experience, this compulsive relationship with eating feels biological more than psychological. It’s almost like a form of neurodivergence, a kind of rigidity in my brain wiring. Once I start eating, I get stuck in that mode and can’t stop. Mindfulness and embodiment training over the years have helped me re-discover my hunger signals. I now have a sense of when my body is full and when I should stop eating. In other words, my satiety hormones are working. But my brain still switches into "eating mode," and there’s a disconnect between those systems. So I keep eating, thinking, “You should stop now. This is too much.” I'm fully aware and embodied in that process.

Structured eating

For many, this is why structured eating strategies - like weighing and measuring food or preparing one plate before starting a meal - can be life-changing. Over the years, this practice has helped me develop a sense of balance and reach a feeling of “just right” fullness, rather than slipping into compulsive overeating. In a way, my recovery followed the opposite path of what’s often recommended by professionals. While some suggest first learning to re-embody and develop interoceptive awareness, I found that I regained that awareness through weighing and measuring, making small tweaks to my food plan with the support of an ayurvedic health professional, and carefully noticing what that felt like. As ayurveda values small and subtle changes, and always suggests that our digestive fire (agni) is best cared for with "smaller than you think you need" portions, this was the perfect method for me.

Despite having done extensive training in yoga, mindfulness, and other body-based therapies—and feeling well-connected to my body since early recovery—I still find I can’t regulate the amount I eat over the long term without weighing and measuring. (I can notice that “not enough dysmorphia” in other areas of my life too. For example, I tend to over-water my plants or overestimate how long it takes me to do things or get to places).

Of course, portion control isn’t necessary for everyone. I’ve seen many people successfully (re)train their hunger and satiety cues, learning to stop eating comfortably when their body signals fullness.

As a therapist, I’m always inspired by the phenomenology of recovery. Recovery from food addiction and binge eating is highly individual, full of trial and error. This applies to finding the right food plan, deciding how to structure meals, and learning how to manage portions. And that makes sense because food is not something we can abstain from entirely. We need to eat, and we must learn to eat in a way that gradually sidelines the addiction.

There are many paths to food sobriety. But the ultimate goal is the same: food peace.

Categories: : Eating Disorders, Food Addiction