Eating on Autopilot: When You’re Not in the Mood to Eat

Lately, I haven’t really been in the mood to eat much of anything.

Cooking is something that usually brings me calm, comfort, and adds a bit of steadiness to my life. It’s something I usually enjoy. But recently, I just haven’t wanted to be in the kitchen.

Because of that, I find myself grabbing whatever is easier instead. Something convenient and doesn’t require too much effort or thought. And even then, sometimes I still don’t really eat.

When I’m depressed—and I have been lately—I notice my relationship with food changes. I don’t eat as well. I don’t think as much about nourishment. And I turn toward comfort foods when I do eat, but even that feels harder right now.

And in many cases, that leads to something simpler… more often than not, I’ll just skip meals altogether.

The thing is, I’m not really hungry. My mind is too preoccupied with other things. I’ve been too anxious and heavy in ways that are hard to describe. And food just so happens to fall lower on the list.

And then, I’ve noticed something else in these moments: when I do eat, I’m not really there for it.

It becomes this autopilot thing. I’ll sit down, take a few bites, drift somewhere in my mind, and suddenly the moment is gone. Sometimes I don’t even realize that I’ve finished eating until I’m already done.

It’s like I’m going through the motion of taking care of myself without actually feeling present to receive it.

And that realization lingers—because it doesn’t just feel like eating, it feels like missing it while it’s happening.

Cooking used to feel different. It still does sometimes. When I do have the energy, it’s my space to calm my overwhelm. All of the movement and focus slows everything down in my head.

But when I’m in this space mentally, even that feels out of reach. So, I don’t plan meals. I just get through the day in low-energy ways.

Recently, I made this recipe during one of those in-between moments. I wasn’t inspired or anything, I just needed something simple. And I found that in a rice bowl.

It’s something that I’ve always loved. It feels comforting and familiar to me, and that’s something I need now more than ever. It’s something low effort and what I can actually finish even when my mind is elsewhere.

And maybe that’s why it matters right now—because even when I’m not fully present, I’m still trying to care for myself in small ways. And I think that counts for something.

When do you notice yourself drifting away from the moment—and what helps you gently come back?

“Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have.” — Eckhart Tolle