“Life itself is the proper binge.” — Julia Child
I was thinking this week, as I watched yet another episode of a murder show on Netflix, that binge-watching shows isn’t always a bad idea, but two straight rainy days of murder and mayhem will do your head in pretty quickly. I know way more than I ever thought I would learn about evidence, forensics, DNA, and how, no matter what you do, you aren’t ever getting all the blood out of the kitchen tile.
Still, the concept of a binge is interesting. I used to write articles on neurology topics like ADHD, autism, Alzheimer’s, and other mental health topics, and it’s amazing how the brain works, and what will hit each person right in the dopamine, because it’s not the same for everyone. Not everyone wants to go down the rabbit hole of the Ted Bundy case or the Karen Read trial; some people like to entrench themselves in a couple of seasons of The Real Housewives or The Bachelor.
Of course, not every binge is about streaming a show or a movie. Sometimes it’s a particular food, a specific color we want to wear, or a playlist of songs we have on repeat. Since tickets to Barry Manilow’s recent shows in Boston were out of my budget, I settled for Spotify playlists and YouTube videos running on my laptop for a few days (Ok, it was a week, whatever.) Sometimes you get onto something, and you want to keep having it. Hagan Daaz makes a pineapple coconut ice cream that I will no longer purchase or have in the house because it’s simply too delicious, and if I have any more, I will need my own zip code.
There’s nothing wrong with liking something so much you want a lot of it, unless it’s unhealthy or dangerous. The creamy tropical smoothies, sometimes with a dollop of rum added, were becoming problematic, and since I have the willpower of a toddler in a toy store, they’re no longer on the shopping list. There are a few other foods I cannot have in the house, among them those thin, crispy cookies from Tate’s. If it fit, there’s a good chance my whole head would go into the bag so I could chow down in true Cookie Monster fashion on the delicious buttery goodness of the chocolate chippers they make. Whipped cream, you know the good kind in the spray can? Nope, because I’d be way too tempted to get up at 3 am and do some whip shots at the fridge. Also, I have banned Three Musketeers bars except for Halloween and Easter.
Why is it that we get sucked into these treats? For the food ones, it’s not even because I’m hungry. A bowl of soup or a PBJ would do the trick if it were just hunger. Nope, it’s some kind of brain hit; there’s something about certain foods, and they’re different for different people, that we can’t resist. I could pass up most candy, sugary sodas, cake, and gooey desserts, but there has never been a French fry or a piece of pizza I could pass up.
The binges that are not food are a little harder to explain. Yes, I enjoy documentaries, especially true crime, but what makes me want to watch 5 hours of them every evening for two weeks straight? Barry Manilow is incredibly talented, but how many times does it take before “I Write the Songs” is permanently etched in your brain? Two weeks. That’s how long. I need to find another performer to overwrite it, because as an earworm, it’s wearing thin.
There’s a lot of neuroscience behind why we like to live on repeat now and then; I wish I understood more about it. What chemical or electrical response in the brain says “Yes, play that again,” and how does it switch to “If I hear that song again, I’ll go mad”? It’s not an addiction, but some binges do stick around longer than others. I’m hoping when I go on a trip in a few weeks, I unplug enough that the only binge I will experience is how many times I wiggle my toes in the sand, look at the ocean, and breathe it in. I’m over my Barry phase for now, but I’m still not buying the cookies; I’m not strong enough yet for that. Maybe a wee bit of coconut pineapple ice cream, though? I promise, just this once.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.