What Is Binge Eating Disorder—And How Do I Know If I Have It?

Have you ever heard someone say, “Just stop eating”? As if that’s the magical cure to binge eating disorder—one that we’ve somehow overlooked.

For those who haven’t experienced an eating disorder, it’s hard to understand the internal battle—the desperate desire to stop eating, clashing with an overwhelming urge to keep going. It’s like trying to swim against a tidal wave. You can see the shore—your goal of stopping—but the wave is so strong, so consuming, it pulls you under before you can catch your breath.

I lived in this state of turmoil for six years. Even after I believed I’d recovered, the waves pulled me back under, leading to a relapse two years later. That experience taught me the complexity of healing and the continual process of learning and resilience.

What Is Binge Eating Disorder (BED)?

Binge Eating Disorder (BED) is a serious eating disorder characterized by recurring episodes of eating large amounts of food in a short period of time, often accompanied by a sense of loss of control. These episodes are typically followed by feelings of shame, guilt, or distress.

BED is different from simply overeating or indulging. Take Thanksgiving, for example. It’s a day filled with delicious food, family, and tradition. You load your plate with mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, and corn, all drenched in gravy. You might go back for seconds or thirds, and even grab a slice (or two) of pie for dessert. Eventually, you feel so full you can barely move, so you curl up for a post-meal nap.

That’s a common binge—a temporary indulgence in response to an abundance of food and celebration. BED involves a compulsive drive to eat, often triggered by emotional distress or prolonged restriction, and it happens regularly, not just on special occasions. The need to eat feels like an overwhelming tidal wave. You don’t just want to eat—you feel like you have to.

To learn more about what BED is and how it’s clinically defined, check out the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA): What Is BED?

How Binge Eating Disorder Is Different From Overeating

With BED, it’s not about the food; it’s about the act of eating. It’s the compulsion to eat that takes control, not the desire for a specific flavor or texture.

You might find yourself binging on foods you don’t even enjoy, or grabbing anything you wouldn’t normally allow yourself to eat while adhering to strict rules. Binging with an eating disorder can mean devouring a whole box of cereal, followed by a loaf of bread, and then an entire package of cookies. The specifics don’t matter—it’s the relentless drive to eat and the inability to stop.

The Emotional Struggles of Binge Eating Disorder

As you can probably imagine, a binge doesn’t leave you feeling good. And I don’t just mean physically—it’s the emotional aftermath that’s often the hardest to bear. The shame, guilt, embarrassment, and self-loathing can feel overwhelming, creating a cycle of isolation and regret.

For many, including myself, binge episodes happen in private, hidden from friends, family, and significant others. And afterward, it’s common to retreat further, avoiding others out of shame or fear of judgment.

Here’s what my binges often looked like:

During my college years, my binging became particularly severe. I’d wait until my roommates had gone to bed, then I’d order a pizza—usually with sides. While waiting for the delivery, I’d go to the vending machine and grab an assortment of snacks.

I’d eat the snacks first, then the pizza and garlic bread, followed by a pint of ice cream I’d bought earlier that day, knowing deep down I wouldn’t resist the urge to binge. At that point, I’d already eaten more than enough to feel uncomfortably full, yet I couldn’t stop.

I’d return to the kitchen and find more food—sometimes a sleeve of Oreos I’d sneak back to my room. By the end of the binge, I was beyond full—physically miserable but emotionally numb, trapped in a trance-like state where self-hatred overshadowed everything else.

On my worst nights, I was so painfully full I struggled to breathe. A few times, I even considered calling an ambulance because the discomfort and breathlessness felt unbearable. But I never did—I was too ashamed to admit I’d eaten so much that I couldn’t function.

Instead, I’d sit alone in the dark, battling waves of self-loathing and regret until I finally drifted off to sleep, just a few hours before my alarm.

The Day After: Isolation and Regret

The morning after a binge was always the hardest. I’d wake up feeling mortified, replaying the night in my mind and asking myself the same questions over and over: How did I let this happen again? Why couldn’t I stop?

Most of the time, I’d stay in my room, avoiding my roommates and pretending I had too much homework to do. I didn’t want anyone to see me—not while I felt bloated, ashamed, and utterly out of control.

At other points in my life, I’d avoid my significant other, embarrassed by how my body looked after a binge. My bloated stomach felt like a physical manifestation of my shame. I’d push myself to spend hours at the gym, desperately trying to “make up” for the binge by burning off every last calorie.

And yet, in my attempts to fix the damage, I’d often restrict my eating so severely that the cycle would start all over again.

How Binge Eating Disorder Strains Relationships

The emotional toll of binge eating disorder didn’t just affect me—it seeped into my relationships, too. Around my family—the people I was most comfortable with—my temper was often short. If I was battling the urge to binge or dealing with the aftermath of one, it was harder to maintain the facade I wore around everyone else.

Hiding my struggles was exhausting, and sometimes, I just couldn’t keep it up. The guilt of snapping at loved ones or withdrawing from them only added to the weight I was already carrying.

While the emotional toll of BED is overwhelming, it takes a physical toll that is impossible to ignore. 

The Physical Effects of Binge Eating Disorder

The physical aftermath of a binge is as overwhelming as the emotional toll. After a binge, I often felt extreme discomfort and breathlessness. My stomach would expand so much that it looked as though I were several months pregnant, and that unbearable feeling would last for hours. The next day wasn’t much better. I’d wake up still feeling bloated, sluggish, and unwell. Sometimes, the stomach pains would persist well into the afternoon, making it hard to focus on anything other than how uncomfortable I felt.

Beyond the immediate effects, the long-term physical toll of binge eating disorder can be significant. For me, it led to rapid and unhealthy weight fluctuations—up and down as much as 20 pounds in a short period. My digestive system was in constant distress, and I couldn’t ignore the general concerns for my overall health.

I knew, deep down, that consistent binge eating could have serious long-term consequences. However, I don’t want to dive too deeply into those here—there are plenty of resources available if you’re looking to learn more about the medical impact of BED. (If you’re curious, check out this blog on Serious Health Problems Caused by Binge Eating Disorder).

What I do want to emphasize is this: the physical toll feeds into the emotional strain, creating a vicious cycle that can feel impossible to escape. The shame and discomfort fuel the next binge, and so the cycle continues.

But let me tell you something—it is possible to break free. It takes the right steps, a strong support system, and a belief in yourself. Recovery isn’t easy, but it’s worth every effort.

Breaking Free: Steps Toward Healing From Binge Eating Disorder

If you’re reading this and seeing parts of yourself in my story, I want you to know something: you are not alone. The feelings of shame, guilt, and hopelessness that come with binge eating disorder are so common. Your struggles are valid, no matter what form they take.

I know how overwhelming it can feel. When you’re in the thick of it, it seems like there’s no way out, like the cycle will never end. But I promise you—there is hope. Recovery is possible.

It doesn’t happen overnight, and it isn’t always linear, but with the right steps, the right support, and a little faith, you can move toward a healthier, happier relationship with food and yourself. For me, the road to recovery started with small, consistent actions. Some of the things that helped me included:

Allowing myself to eat all foods without judgment: I stopped labeling foods as “good” or “bad” and gave myself permission to enjoy everything

Practicing mindful eating: I learned to slow down during meals, savor each bite, and focus on how my body felt.

Ditching the scale: I stopped weighing myself daily and began focusing on how I felt instead of letting a number define my self-worth.

Confiding in loved ones: I opened up to family and close friends about what I was going through, and their support became a vital part of my healing process

These steps weren’t easy, but they were worth it. I’ll be sharing more about each of them in future posts, so stay tuned if you’re ready to take your first steps toward healing.<3