Why Do I Think About Food All the Time?| A Norwich Counsellor Explains

Mary had just had breakfast, and now she was thinking about lunch.

I had two eggs, two pieces of toast, butter, and some spinach. That’s healthy, right? That’s fine.

She looked at the clock. Four more hours until lunch.

What was she going to have?

A burger? That would be nice.

No, wait. She’d had fish and chips last night. She couldn’t have a burger today too. Too unhealthy.

Pasta? No. Too carby.

Carbs were bad.

She tapped her fingers on her desk, trying to focus on work.

Maybe a meal deal? Tuna salad?

A familiar sense of anxiety crept in. She didn’t know what she was supposed to have.

I should have packed lunch, she thought, remorsefully.

But yesterday she’d packed lunch and eaten it early, feeling frustrated with herself as she did so. Why couldn’t she just stick to the plan? She berated herself.

She’d have to wait.

Urg.


For some people, thoughts about food can feel relentless like this. Planning, analysing, replaying what you’ve eaten, trying to figure out what you can and can’t have, when you should eat, whether you’ve “got it right.”

This sometimes gets referred to as food noise.

And it can be exhausting.

The understandable assumption can be that the solution is more control:

If I just plan better…
If I’m stricter…
If I eat more “cleanly”…
then the mental noise will go away.

But often, the opposite happens.

Sometimes preoccupation grows where deprivation exists.

Research has long suggested that when the mind or body perceives scarcity, food can take up more mental space, not less. Restriction, physical or psychological, can make food take up more mental space, especially when eating feels tied to worth, goodness, or getting things right.

If your eating or exercise feel tied to what they say about you as a person, it makes sense you might become increasingly focused on trying to control them, and in doing so, become more fixated on them.

In other words, constant thoughts about food may not be a sign of greed or lack of willpower.

They may be a response to a desire to try and ‘get things right’ or be a ‘good’ or ‘acceptable’ person.

And sometimes it isn’t only about restriction.

Sometimes thoughts about food can act a bit like a scapegoat.

Food can carry emotional weight; food as a scapegoat.


A scapegoat is something that takes the blame for something deeper that feels harder to face.

For example, if I tell myself my distress is because I ate “badly,” I may not have to look at the anxiety, overwhelm, loneliness or self-doubt I’m carrying.

In this sense, food can sometimes become a place where difficult emotions are directed or expressed.

I might think I’m preoccupied with food, when underneath I may be struggling with:

  • anxiety
  • stress
  • overwhelm
  • chaos
  • feeling not quite good enough
  • numbness

Sometimes the thoughts may be about food.

And sometimes food is carrying something else.

And I might be using food as a way to try and justify that feeling. So, in this instance, it may feel like if I can control my diet and/or those difficult feelings might go away.

Which raises a deeper question:

So is it really food you’re thinking about?

Or could some of the mental noise be about:

  • getting things right
  • feeling okay
  • feeling in control
  • feeling good enough

In this sense, sometimes food thoughts are not really about food at all.

Rules can make food louder.

When food becomes organised into “good” and “bad,” “allowed” and “forbidden,” it can become charged.

And often, what is forbidden becomes mentally louder.

What we fight for control over can begin to dominate attention.

What if the thoughts are communicating something?

Perhaps the question is not only:

How do I stop thinking about food?

But:

What might these thoughts be telling me about how I’m feeling?

Because food may be taking up space in your mind for a reason.

And approaching that with curiosity, rather than shame, can sometimes act as a gateway for self understanding.

Sometimes the question is not simply how to stop thinking about food, but what those thoughts may be trying to communicate. Because food may be taking up space in your mind for a reason.

Disordered Eating and Person-Centred Counselling

My work is primarily focused on disordered eating. In this blog, I offer a short overview of how person-centred counselling can support those experiencing it.

It’s helpful to begin with a shared understanding of what we mean by an eating disorder. The National Health Service defines eating disorders as “a serious, treatable mental health condition characterised by disturbed eating patterns, such as extreme restriction, bingeing, or purging, paired with an obsession with weight, body shape, or food.”

Importantly, the NHS also emphasises that eating disorders are not simply about food. They are ways of coping with distress that can have significant physical, emotional, and social consequences.

In that sense, eating disorders are not really about food. They are about finding a way to manage something that feels overwhelming.

It can be helpful to think of eating, weight, or the body as a kind of scapegoat. If there is something external to focus on, something that feels controllable, it can offer a sense of structure or even relief. If my distress can be explained by my body, then I have something concrete to work on, something I can try to fix.

For example, after a painful breakup, it may feel easier to focus on changing your body than to sit with loss, rejection, or grief. The hope might be: if I change my body, my life will change too. Often, the desire to change our bodies is not really about appearance, and rarely about health. It is more about wanting to feel differently: more in control, more secure, or more acceptable.

Where does person-centred counselling come in?

Person-centred counselling is a way of working that places you at the centre of your own experience.

Rather than focusing on fixing behaviours or giving advice, we work together to understand what sits underneath them. This means creating space to explore your thoughts, feelings, and experiences, particularly those that may sit outside of food.

There is no shortage of advice when it comes to eating disorders. Many people arrive at counselling already carrying a wealth of knowledge about what they “should” be doing. What is often missing is not information, but space; to think, to make sense of what feels overwhelming, and to understand how your relationship with food and body image may be helping you cope.

In a person-centred approach, you are not treated as a problem to be solved, but as a person to be understood. As that understanding develops, your relationship with yourself can begin to shift. From there, change can start to feel possible.

There is much more that can be said on this topic. If you’re struggling with your eating behaviours, you’re welcome to get in touch through my Counselling Directory profile.