My evening routine is always the same; I get in at around 8pm, skin slick with sweat from the gym. I swiftly ditch my bag by the front door, trainers tossed on to the mounting pile in the corner, and barge straight into the kitchen to start making dinner. It's late, my stomach growling like a feral animal, so I peel back the plastic of a ready meal and stick the small container in the microwave.

While it cooks, I shower at lightspeed, tearing a razor up my legs and scratching shampoo into my scalp, digging my nails in until it smarts. Only when I hear the ding interrupting the low hum of the microwave do I stop, slopping my meal into one of those dishes that is neither a plate nor a bowl but some sort of superior hybrid. But before I finally satiate my hunger - my stomach's cries now having evolved to a whale's mating call - it's vital I have a guest. Be it David Mitchell and Robert Webb being unhinged on Peep Show on my living room TV, or some YouTuber talking me through her 15-step beauty regime, I never have dinner alone.

Television is my constant companion as I laze on the sofa with my dinner warming my lap, bowl in between my crossed legs, my reflection staring back at me behind the moving images. I pay what I'm about to watch a weird amount of respect - no matter how hungry I am, I will sit through the adverts and start eating only when my show or YouTube video commences.

According to a new poll from YouGov, I am not alone when it comes to eschewing the table for a TV dinner. Compared with other Western countries, Britons are by far the most likely to eat dinner on a sofa or in an armchair, with 42 per cent doing so, making the practice about as widespread in the UK as eating at the dining table. Having the TV on in the background is also something relatively commonplace here - 67 per cent of us will watch some sort of video content while eating.

A quick straw poll of my nearest and dearest only reinforces these findings. My (Australian) boyfriend is the same. Despite him actually having a dining area in the six-bedroom house he lives in, we tend to eat our numerous hungover Deliveroo takeaways in the confines of his bedroom, to avoid stilted interactions with his eccentric collection of housemates.

We've eaten so much takeaway while wrapped up in his duvet, nonsense blaring in the background, he sincerely turned to me and asked whether he should invest in a bed tray to prop our food on when we eat, almost as if we were inpatients in the world's worst hospital (his sister looked at us with disdain and called us "swampy" when we relayed this story to her later).

When I see another friend, she confirms that she also eats splayed on the sofa or in bed.

"Kim, you've been to my flat," she tells me. "I don't even have a dining table."

Truth is, I can't really remember a time that I ever had dinner at home without some sort of background noise. My mother - an extremely busy single parent juggling two often argumentative kids - would see dinnertime as her time. Food was our pacifier - she'd dump a bowlful of spaghetti at our laps and shush us if either of us dared speak over Emmerdale (something, I may add, she still does to this day).

It's left an indelible stain on my brain; I think I'm just so used to having something to do while eating that the actual act of eating itself is redundant. It was such a problem when I was younger that when we did venture outside the house for a dinner, my mum would let me take a book, or heaven forfend, my Game Boy, to keep me occupied. I'm thankfully less uncouth in adulthood, but I still find my hands become itchy when having dinner with friends, wanting to check my phone or distract myself with something, no matter how scintillating the conversation is.

When I speak to psychotherapist Sally Baker about my TV dinner habits, she points towards my hectic schedule that I often try to hustle through at breakneck speed.

"You're not prioritising food and nourishment," she tells me. "It's become a secondary activity. If you're having these very long days at work, you're feeling exhausted. It's just easy to ping on the microwave, or get a takeaway and slump on the sofa. If you're feeling wound up and under pressure, you're having high levels of cortisol and adrenaline pulsing through your body. You're effectively using food as a pacifier to calm down your nervous system."

Baker also points towards the nostalgia of eating spaghetti in a bowl in front of the TV as a child, pasta sauce dribbling down my chin, as why I'm still stuck in this habit: "This is your place of comfort, and that's the script you're running when you replicate that behaviour as an adult."

But is this act of chowing down in an armchair with Netflix for comfort actually doing me (and the rest of us in Britain) any harm? Well, yes, explains licensed therapist Sophie Cress.

"When people eat while watching TV, they are more likely to consume mindlessly," she says. "We pay less attention to portion sizes, hunger cues, and the nutritional content of our food. Mindless eating can lead to overeating, poor digestion and an increased consumption of harmful foods, all of which can have a severe impact on both physical and mental health."

I think back to my boyfriend's bedroom, and the bottle of Gaviscon he keeps by his bed that he sometimes necks straight from the bottle for his acid reflux. Fair enough.

"Consuming meals in front of screens can undermine the social aspect of eating," Cress continues. "Mealtimes are an opportunity to connect with others. When everyone is focused on a screen, this connection weakens.

"Children who regularly eat while watching TV or YouTube are often more prone to developing unhealthy eating patterns. Additionally, the lack of meaningful conversations during their meals can impair their social development, potentially leading to difficulty forming and maintaining relationships later in life."

I read through Cress's advice while chewing on my fingernails, thinking of all the times I've been bad company at dinners because I've been busy attuned to another screen. I text my boyfriend that next time we hang out, we should brave the kitchen, actually cook a meal together, and eat it at the table like actual human beings. Ever the man, he sends a thumbs up emoji in response.

Baker adds that it's not too late to shake the habit. "People operate very individualistically nowadays. Food is a means of connection, an act of community. Maybe it's about the act of agreeing with your housemates when you'll all eat together during the week and build a true sense of connection.

"And if you do insist on watching TV while you're eating alone, make sure you're watching something happy and uplifting. The news generates more cortisol and adrenaline. It affects your digestive system and your ability to digest your food, because it's really anxiety provoking."

I make a mental note to try to eat more mindfully. After all, I'm an adult woman - I should be able to manage a jacket potato without additional entertainment from a screen. But when I look at my increasingly busy schedule, I know breaking bread with housemates or my boyfriend just won't be an option when I'm back at work pushing 9pm. Maybe we all need to make changes in the way we consume our food - but perhaps accept dinner as an act of community just isn't always possible when we're busy young professionals in poky flats living highly individualised lives. On the days when I'm busy, I've accepted that I'll happily enjoy my microwave meal just us two - me and some TV.