Gray Post for a Gray Day

I am not hungry. But still, I eat. My excuse has a name, a label I give myself: stress eater. It reminds me a bit of the Death Eaters from the Harry Potter movies, flying in silently and stealthily from who-knows-where, taking your very breath away and leaving you with nothing but sadness. Nothing especially provokes the onslaught, but you are overwhelmed and forced to surrender anyway. I must make myself more like Harry, summoning my inner strength and perhaps some supernatural beings to help me face the Death Eaters. My magic wand is but a symbol of the enormous power I have inside and just need to harness in order to secure the victory. I got this.