Hanger

Something that became apparent early in my health journey was how much I love food.

That may seem obvious, but I’d been doing my best to suppress my appetite for a few decades with nicotine.

Taking that out of the equation left a hole in my gut — a vast, angry hole.

I felt tired and unfocused early in the day, which was confusing for someone who had spent so much intoxicated yet wholly able to focus.

There was also anger.

This is quite a typical response to hunger.

In the animal world, predator families often turn on each other after a failed hunt, letting out their disappointment with a scrap.

Maybe it’s our body’s way of preparing us to kill whoever we might have to kill to survive.

It certainly felt like it sometimes.

The irony was that, after spending so long using an appetite suppressant, I didn’t even realize I was hungry.

Heads were ripped off.

Removing bad habits — especially the highly addictive kind — inevitably forces us to confront that from which we have been hiding.

Looking back, it’s possible that most of the things that angered me over the years were because I was hungry.

Mostly just hanger.