She knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves...C.S.Lewis in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
I've been thinking about visceral desires. They make perfect sense a lot of the time, but then you have desires gone awry, like pica where a pregnant woman has an irrational desire to eat dirt. I'm not kidding. Dirt in this case may even be good for her since the desire is based on a mineral deficiency. More likely though, the dirt is just going to get stuck in her teeth.
Near as I can tell, the process by which your body associates a certain behavior or food with meeting a particular need is an imperfect one. Pickles and ice cream good for babies? How does that work? It actually does sometimes. Of course, sometimes it doesn't.
When a properly diagnosed vitamin deficiency is treated appropriately, the cravings are then irrelevant--it doesn't matter whether the desired object is weird or not in terms of health, the needs are being met. But there's still that craving. And that's kind of where I see my current status with another flavor of Turkish Delight. My reproductive needs have been met despite a misdirected craving that seems never to relent. Porn, then, seems to stop the craving itself for a while, but then I want more and more of it. And that Turkish Delight is threatening to kill me. Too bad I agreed to have some from the White Witch in the first place.
I'll have to keep trying to remember how Edmund's problem was solved.