and started taking iron supplements. I stopped eating ice. I stopped having any interest in eating ice at all.
What did this feel like? Did you previously crave ice, and then stop craving it? Or did you just happen to eat ice, and just happen to stop? (by “just happen” I guess I mean that you could observe your behavior but couldn’t explain it; I guess the part about excuses matches this, but you talk about craving elsewhere. and the exit may have felt different from the entrance.)
trivia: the most efficient source of dietary iron is tomatoes cooked in a cast-iron pan.
It failed to feel like anything, which was one of the weirder parts. It never felt as immediate and urgent as what I usually identify as a craving (e.g. with chocolate). I would just feel like the next thing I ought to do would be to get some ice and eat it. Rather quickly—I think over a week or two—this stopped popping up on my mental to-do list. I also got less pleasure out of eating ice, and less vague unnervedness from not having access to any.
I’ve noticed that when my self control is slipping it has a feeling like what you describe. Not so much wanting, more like just knowing that’s what I’m going to be doing next, and not being able to divert that inevitability.
I think that was a sign that it was an important part of the story and you should have emphasized it more. I deduced it (or generated it as a hypothesis) from the conclusions you drew. I think not having that intermediate step explains some negative reactions to the article.
The distinction between giving in to a experienced craving and just happening to act in a way that outsiders would describe as involving a craving seems very important to me. In particular, people responding to your story might think “I don’t have cravings, so I shouldn’t worry about what those cravings are really for.” But maybe I’m making up too specific a failure mode. I see the central point of the post being a perfect example of how the brain is very bad at communicating certain needs to the systems that can get those needs met and failure to communicate that there was a need seemed a more fundamental and problematic failure than the mere failure to communicate details of the need.
(I’m assuming that there never was any craving; I’m not putting emphasis on the end of the story. But if there’s asymmetry, that’s interesting, too. Another detail I wonder about is: did you make up the excuses for yourself, or only when questioned?)
I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I thought I could put my thoughts in better order, but time didn’t help. I do think weird things are usually important, though perhaps not here. If there parts you don’t understand, then it’s dangerous to generalize from it. If there are parts that surprised you at the time, but made everything make sense, then they’ll probably surprise everyone else and should be disseminated.
What did this feel like? Did you previously crave ice, and then stop craving it? Or did you just happen to eat ice, and just happen to stop? (by “just happen” I guess I mean that you could observe your behavior but couldn’t explain it; I guess the part about excuses matches this, but you talk about craving elsewhere. and the exit may have felt different from the entrance.)
trivia: the most efficient source of dietary iron is tomatoes cooked in a cast-iron pan.
It failed to feel like anything, which was one of the weirder parts. It never felt as immediate and urgent as what I usually identify as a craving (e.g. with chocolate). I would just feel like the next thing I ought to do would be to get some ice and eat it. Rather quickly—I think over a week or two—this stopped popping up on my mental to-do list. I also got less pleasure out of eating ice, and less vague unnervedness from not having access to any.
I’ve noticed that when my self control is slipping it has a feeling like what you describe. Not so much wanting, more like just knowing that’s what I’m going to be doing next, and not being able to divert that inevitability.
I think that was a sign that it was an important part of the story and you should have emphasized it more. I deduced it (or generated it as a hypothesis) from the conclusions you drew. I think not having that intermediate step explains some negative reactions to the article.
I’m not sure I understand. Why is the lack of craving-evaporation-qualia such an important part of the story?
The distinction between giving in to a experienced craving and just happening to act in a way that outsiders would describe as involving a craving seems very important to me. In particular, people responding to your story might think “I don’t have cravings, so I shouldn’t worry about what those cravings are really for.” But maybe I’m making up too specific a failure mode. I see the central point of the post being a perfect example of how the brain is very bad at communicating certain needs to the systems that can get those needs met and failure to communicate that there was a need seemed a more fundamental and problematic failure than the mere failure to communicate details of the need.
(I’m assuming that there never was any craving; I’m not putting emphasis on the end of the story. But if there’s asymmetry, that’s interesting, too. Another detail I wonder about is: did you make up the excuses for yourself, or only when questioned?)
I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I thought I could put my thoughts in better order, but time didn’t help. I do think weird things are usually important, though perhaps not here. If there parts you don’t understand, then it’s dangerous to generalize from it. If there are parts that surprised you at the time, but made everything make sense, then they’ll probably surprise everyone else and should be disseminated.