Food and feelings - could there be a connection?

I know how to eat well, but I usually eat want.  Sometimes I'm vegetarian, and sometimes even vegan, but mostly I eat pizzas and hamburgers and brownies and I'm simply mad, simply mad I tell you, for salt and vinegar potato chips.  I eat when I'm not  hungry.  I eat too fast.  Food, in short, is both a pleasure and a problem for me.

At the first of the year, I asked Sweet Hubby to support me in not having snacks after dinner.  (Except on Sundays, when I can eat what/whenever I want.)  That seemed like a simple enough way to start getting a handle on eating more wholesomely.  One step at a time and all that.  Well, it's a month and a half later and I'm still struggling with that one thing.  I'm not breaking my promise, but I still find I want to head for the crackers and chocolate chips and herb rolls at night, even when I'm not the least bit hungry.  I guess I have to say that I have a food addiction.  Yuck.

I think I must be stuffing an awful lot of feelings with all this eating.  And feelings are running high for the past several years.  There's my anxiety about all the anger and enmity and rigid righteousness in this country these days, and the disbelief and outrage that so many people still support the nakedly odious Trump.  There's the scary awareness that I'm going to die and, even worse, so is SH.  Missing Mom, who is gone forever.  Missing friends and family, who are within digital reach but too, too far away.

Most of all there are my conflicted feelings about, my love/hate relationship with writing.  Why on earth do I go on trying?  What do I think is going to happen?  Am I really going to turn 70 with all my ridiculous Tony and Oscar fantasies intact, all those imagined acceptance speeches still lodged in the back of my throat?  Why don't I just give the fuck up?

I think I use food to avoid my fierce, passionate, miserable feelings about all of that.

It's possible, of course, and just as likely that I overeat simply because I'm lazy and self-indulgent, more interested in the gratification of the moment than in actually making something of myself.

Either way, yesterday I bought no chips when I shopped  and ate no snacks after dinner.  And I wrote for hours, and I think wrote well.  So there's that.  Not really victories but, as with so many other parts of life, a whole lot better than nothing.