Here is a hilarious, but tragic article from The New York Times:
Maureen Strehlow, a 57-year-old woman with dark brown eyes and hair, lives alone south of Minneapolis. At that time, she had been divorced a few years; she was living with her three children, and she was at her wit's end.
She had discovered that she was powerless to stop eating in her sleep -- sleep, or whatever that twilight state was in which she would traverse the hall from the bed to the kitchen, usually with no recollection in the morning but aware enough at the time to rummage in the counter drawer for the stale licorice behind the coffee filters.Sometimes I'm so tired and hungry I don't know what to do. Maybe I could take a cue from Maureen here.
The list of tactics that failed to thwart her behavior was long. She had tried to ''prime'' herself not to eat. She'd hung paper plates block-lettered with the word ''EAT'' with a bold slash through it. She had even hired one of her daughters at a few dollars a night to bed down in the hall outside Maureen's room on the theory that the teenager might be alert enough to intervene, or at least present an obstacle.
She had been eating in her sleep since her late teens, finding clues like chocolate frosting on her pillow or cherry pits and porkchop bones in the sheets. ''I thought I was the only person in the world doing this. I would wake up in the morning wondering, What did you do last night?''
