Becky the Hulk

Today, I will be admitting something rather embarrassing about myself. When I get hungry, I behave like the Incredible Hulk. And because (as I've already established in previous posts) I'm neurotic, I also experience anxiety with my hunger pangs. This is usually played out with a few panicked outbursts like, "You never feed me," or "You never let me eat," accompanied by an overwhelming sense that I am being held prisoner by the person (often my husband, Dan) who is, according to my perception at the time, withholding sustenance.

This is another reason I would not survive on a desert island, like in Lost, without normal eating times or abundant food sources. It has become a joke at my house . . . except when it is actually happening.

The last time I had a Hulk moment was right after Dan and I had gone biking, and of course, I had worked up an appetite after all that exercise. I came storming out of our office, found Dan playing on his phone, and started rambling on and on about the evils of technology and how we are addicted to our phones now and can't even focus on our daily lives and . . .

Dan sat me down at the kitchen table and put a bowl leftover stir-fry in front of me. As soon I ate the first few bites, I started to calm down. My heart rate slowed. I am sure my blood pressure dropped. Dan was just happy my mouth was full, and I couldn't talk anymore.

"Now do you feel stupid?" he asked. (He has gotten pretty good at judging when it's safe to start joking around again.)

I am not the only one with this condition. In fact, there is a whole series of Snickers commercials that are based on the idea that we are not ourselves when we are hungry.

One New York Times article equates this phenomenon with Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors (an analogy I desperately wished I had made first), you know, the man-eating plant who says, "Feed me, Seymour!" The article goes on to say that new labels like "food swings" and "hangry" have entered the lexicon just to describe this experience.

Some researchers believe that hunger causes a dip in serotonin, the chemical in the brain that helps regulate anger. A drop in serotonin levels can create a "whirlwind of uncontrollable emotions including anxiety, stress, and anger."

So now that I know there is a scientific basis for my craziness (not an excuse, just a basis), what can I do about it?

I have been known to tell my students I need to eat a few bites first before asking me questions at lunch. Last year, my sixth grade volunteers, not wanting to see cranky Mrs. Duggan at lunchtime, would remind me, "Eat first. Then you can tell us what to do."

I have built in snack times throughout my day. My desk is stocked at school, and I occasionally sneak bites in the middle of teaching classes. Even as I write this post, I am munching on sugar snap peas. This makes road trips really interesting.

"Time for my mid-morning snack!"

"You just ate three hours ago!"

"Do you want me to be crazy Becky or nice Becky?"

I try to keep this unattractive side of me under control, but occasionally I take it out on anyone I perceive to be hindering my quest for food. If you start noticing strange behavior, it's best if don't ask me what is wrong. You are probably witnessing the first stages of my transformation, and I've been known to uncharacteristically bite heads off when asked this question. (And I might literally bite it off considering this is all brought on by hunger). It is best to just get me to the nearest restaurant.

Otherwise, it's going to be HULK SMASH!

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