Jane was 12 when she first turned to food for comfort.
Whenever she was sad or stressed, she would gather whatever she could get her hands on – chocolate, chips, cereal, bread – and eat vast quantities of food in secret.
While eating, Jane was struck by a sense of lack of control, a need to just keep scoffing down as much as she could, as quickly as possible.
"I could barely taste anything, I'd be going so fast."
During a binge, Jane felt numb, awash with a sense of calm. Then came an onslaught of shame and deep regret.
Immediately, Jane would try to placate herself by making a promise that, from now on, things would be different.
"No matter how many times I did it, I could still convince myself that this was the last time."
She would then launch into days of restricted eating.
Eventually, she'd allow herself something "naughty", like a piece of cheese.
That one slither would prove the catalyst for her next binge.
"My mind would go, 'Oh look, you broke out of the good eating, you might as well just go for broke and start again tomorrow'."
Jane's binge eating continued for decades.
During that time she felt like she harboured two personas.
There was the "strong, highly respected woman" she appeared to be in front of colleagues. Then, there was the woman who'd duck back to her office, close the door, and binge on an "insane" amount of chocolate, biscuits and muffins.
The feelings Jane describes – her anxiety before a binge, the "numbness" during, and the shame and regret after – are characteristic of binge eating disorder (BED).
BED is more common than anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa, with an estimated 47 per cent of Australians suffering from this condition, according to Eating Disorders Victoria.
And yet, you'd be forgiven for not having heard of it.
That's because it only became a recognised condition in its own right when the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) was released in 2013.
(Before then, BED lay in the category, eating disorder not otherwise specified, or EDNOS.)
While it's common to overindulge, BED is different, says clinical psychologist Dr Lara Winten from Let's Talk Psychology Practice.
"It differs in both the frequency and severity of the excessive eating behaviours, as well as the degree of distress that the behaviours cause."
She says the binges must occur on average at least once per week, for a period of three or more months. Rather than occurring during social occasions, sufferers gorge in secret.
Dr Winten says people with BED binge to avoid emotional pain or discomfort, using food as a maladaptive way of coping with issues such as low self-esteem, poor body image and stress.
It took Jane decades to realise she was doing exactly that.
When she had her first baby at 39, she decided to seek help, determined not to let her daughter inherit her problems.
She tried an assortment of measures, from silence retreats to rebirthing, and more traditional practices such as cognitive behaviour therapy (CBT).
She became involved in a clinical trial on BED that used eye movement desensitising reprocessing (EMDR), which she says helped.
But it wasn't until two years ago, when Jane started writing a book about her experiences, that she finally came to the realisation she was using food to mask issues, such as her fractured relationship with her mother.
Jane is now 54 and, though "not completely healed", she has come a long way.
Nowadays, when she feels the urge to binge she can often "observe" the feeling – without acting on it.
Even when she does act on that desire, she can stop at a couple of biscuits, rather than consuming a whole packet ("or two, or three").
Most importantly, the emotional cycle has been shattered.
"There's no lack of control while eating; there's not a complete surrendering to the whole downward spiral and there's no shame.
"All the sting has gone out of it."