Yes, I "get this."
I was raised on bread and potatoes by an alcoholic mother, and then I added alcohol to my carb addiction for about 40 years. About five years ago my triglycerides were 300, but my last check up they were 120 (which is good).
I'm almost three years sober and I still struggle with carb and simple sugar cravings. I go through periods of higher than is likely healthy caffeine consumption to compensate for that low energy I sometimes feel when I'm trying to stay off carbs. I'm trying to learn a better balance. Of course, low testosterone could be a factor in my case, but I'm not likely to go the hormone or supplement route any time soon.
In my case I think epigenetics is part of the problem. I'm realizing that my Irish ancestry - folks who fled the famines and came to the U.S. - have a long history of living primarily on carbs and alcohol, and the result is problems with inflammation, arthritis, heart disease, diabetes, lupus, depression, psychosis, and cancer. I also believe I suffer from generational trauma not only from famine but from poverty and violence in generations closer to my own (not to mention the chaos and uncertainty in my childhood).
I think more than anything I need to exercise more. Get out and walk more.
I also often feel alone in the world despite being married. Most of the affection I receive is from afar either online or via text. It's not the same as tactile love; I get that. Lately, I compete with facebook for attention from my wife. My dogs help when I just want to cuddle up with a warm, living being, but sometimes I feel like one of those monkeys with a heating pad who survives but doesn't really thrive. It's hard. Sometimes I just need to pamper myself with a hot bath.
My meditation practice doesn't feel like it is healing me as much as it is teaching me to accept and therefore suffer less with the pains and anxieties I experience. Without alcohol or other drugs to take a vacation from my mind, there simply is no escape. Thus, I have to accept the thoughts and emotions that flow through me, recognize their impermanence, breathe, and sometimes cry.
I think there is something to be said for taking a vacation from one's mind, and for "normal" people who can do that without excessive harm to self and others, well, who am I to judge? But the need for a vacation from the self is itself a warning sign for addictive tendencies. The mind - can't live with it; can't live without it.
Still, I feel best when I take the focus off myself and try to serve others. I feel a bit like I'm living an inconsequential life - inconsequential to everyone but me, that is. And when I'm gone I will be forgotten soon enough. So, while I'm here I ought to do what I can to reduce suffering - others and myself.