7 hours ago
6 
‘What’s for dinner? How many calories are in that cookie? I’ve already blown the diet today so I may as well have ice cream…’
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been consumed by thoughts about food.
As a child, we didn’t have family meals around a table, so I would pick up chippy teas on my way home from school or sit in my bedroom with a McDonald’s.
I did a lot of secret eating, hiding the wrappers of sweets, crisps and chocolate at the bottom of the rubbish bin.
Food became like a comfort. If I was sad, or lonely, or stressed, I ate. It was like euphoria and a rush of endorphins in the moment, but soon after it would turn to guilt.
I had no idea that this buzz was a giveaway for ADHD – it’d be more than a decade before I found out.
By the time I moved in with my partner Dan when I was 21, food had become an obsession.
Whenever I wasn’t eating I was thinking of my next meal – but then as soon as I’d eaten, the guilt and regret would set in.
During my pregnancy with our daughter Esmae in 2021 I put on 6st, ordering deliveries of donuts from Greggs and KFC buckets.
On the day I gave birth, I weighed 22st – then instead of losing weight, I put on another three stone in the following months, using food as a distraction from the pressures of being a young first-time mum.
Whenever something stressful happened, I turned to food for comfort – but it made me feel so ashamed. At my heaviest, I tipped the scales at 25st.
I felt so ashamed of myself, and when I was out and about, I felt like other people were judging me. I especially hated eating in public because I felt like everyone was watching me.
I knew my weight wasn’t healthy, but the constant food noise made dieting impossible.
One slip-up would send me straight back into a vicious cycle of bingeing because I told myself the diet was ‘ruined’ anyway.
I ate with my head, rather than my stomach, which meant I never felt full. I could munch my way through a large pizza, curly fries, then chase that with eight pancakes and chocolate sauce.
I knew I needed to do something drastic to take control over my obsessive thoughts about food, so in May 2023, I flew to Turkey for gastric sleeve surgery. I hoped it would create a physical barrier to stop me overeating, because my mind had no barrier.
On the day of my operation, I weighed 23st 6lbs and was a dress size 26-28.
The sleeve removed 85% of my stomach, so there just wasn’t enough room to eat the volume of food I’d been used to.
I soon learned that if I overate, I was sick. Over the following year, I lost an incredible 12st.
Most people would have been over the moon to slide into a pair of size 10 jeans, but I realised I wasn’t any happier.
Without the constant distraction of planning my next meal 24/7, other worries crowded in.
As I turned down the volume on food noise, all my other thoughts were amplified. I was flooded by anxieties and obsessions. I was thinking a thousand things at once, from my plans in the next few days to work, family, and chores.
Even the simplest household tasks, like hanging the washing out, became overwhelming. I had brain fog, was forgetful, and felt exhausted because my mind was never quiet. I struggled to pay attention to Dan, missed appointments, overslept, and found decision-making impossible.
I was constantly online shopping too; anything to occupy my thoughts.
I knew I needed help addressing this, so in November 2023, I saw my GP, and after an initial assessment, I was referred to a psychologist, who diagnosed me with ADHD in May 2024.
I discovered that in some cases, ADHD can be linked to dopamine deficiency, meaning that people with the condition can obsess over things that give them a short-term high.
For me, that had always been the buzz when I ate – until the gastric sleeve killed my appetite.
Receiving the diagnosis gave me a massive sense of relief. I stopped criticising myself because I finally had a reason for why I am the way I am.
I was started on a type of medication called Atomoxetine, which works by increasing a brain chemical called noradrenaline, which helps improve concentration and controls impulsive thoughts.
My erratic mind calmed within a few days, and I was able to be more present for Esmae and Dan.
I work night shifts as a healthcare support worker in an NHS hospital, and before my diagnosis, I couldn’t get through a shift without 10 cups of coffee.
At home, a basketful of washing could literally send me into meltdown, hyperventilating and unable to start the task without Dan’s help.
Now when I step out of my front door, I don’t feel overwhelmed by all the thoughts crashing around inside my head. I feel like I’m seeing life through different eyes.
I only have four cups of coffee per shift at the hospital, and I can tackle my laundry without feeling overwhelmed.
I know there have been a lot of mixed opinions expressed on the number of adults receiving an ADHD diagnosis – but for me, it’s been life-changing.
Weight loss surgery was just the beginning of my journey of self-discovery. Now my mental, physical, and emotional health have all changed for the better.
Looking back, I can see that a lifetime of undiagnosed ADHD led to my emotional eating spiral.
Once you can no longer self-medicate with food, you have to look at what’s going on up in that brain.
Overweight people are often stigmatised ‘for just being fat and lazy’, but there are all kinds of different reasons why people develop negative relationships with food.
I feel like life would have been a lot brighter if I’d been diagnosed at a younger age. I would have been kinder to myself and more accepting.
Now I feel like I’m able to move forward to my next chapter at peace with myself.
As told to Jade Beecroft
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Bengali (Bangladesh) · 
English (United States) ·