Hello there lovely,
I’m sharing a story that could be triggering for some people – I’m talking about my history with anxiety and disordered eating.
The reason why I’m placing it behind a cut is not because I’m ashamed or embarrassed (far from it!) – it’s because I want to take care with you. So that if this is something that would be upsetting or harmful or uncomfortable for you, you have the choice to take a pass on it.
You can read this story by clicking here or by clicking on the word “more” underneath my name.
Wishing you peace,
I’ve lived with anxiety since I was a little girl, I had my first panic attack on the first day of third grade, I made them call my mom so she could come get me and take me home. I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t know what to do, but I knew that if I was with my mom, then I would be ok. I knew that if I was home, I would be ok.
So I went home and as soon as I walked inside I felt better. Everything calmed and quieted inside of me and I went back to school the next day.
A few months before I’d had a crush on this boy, I thought he was just the coolest. He sat behind me and sometimes we would talk about TV or books at recess. One day, at the end of the day, I wasn’t feeling well and threw up in the middle of the classroom… including on him. Everyone was staring at me and I was so ashamed. I closed my eyes and sat in the chair they’d placed near the big trashcan. Nobody would come near me.
The day I had my first panic attack, the teacher had fussed at me for talking during history. Being singled out in front of everyone, I was embarrassed, ashamed. I told the teacher I felt sick because the two things were connected in my child’s mind.
And for the next several years, that was how it was. Shame, discomfort, embarrassment would lead to anxiety and I would feel sick. Because I felt sick, I wouldn’t eat and then – oh then I thought I’d found a solution. If I didn’t eat then I wouldn’t be sick and if I wasn’t sick then I wouldn’t feel ashamed.
And so began my 20 years of disordered eating.
For years, whenever I’d go through a period of really intense anxiety, I would restrict my eating. My answer, my solution, my shame, my silence.
What I didn’t realize was that it wasn’t a solution, an answer, the Holy Grail to easing the anxiety. I thought it would fix things, but it didn’t, it only made me feel horrible and the anxiety, well, it didn’t go away, even then.
I didn’t know that anxiety would become so pervasive that at times I would be terrified to leave the house or how much What if… would rule my life. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t handling anxiety, that I was the only one getting handled and that things weren’t getting better.
So when I went through a period of disordered eating, it left me weak and shaky, depressed and listless, alone and isolated. It made me a liar, worried my loved ones and exacerbated my auto-immune disease.
But as messed up as it sounds, I didn’t know what else to do.
I engaged in this behavior, these patters, more times that I can count, always with the same results – anger, self-disgust, shame. The things I did to not feel shame were the things causing me shame.
I want to pause here and tell you this: I’m writing this to you from a space where I have a very positive, strong relationship with food. A place where the anxiety in my life is minimal and controllable.
I never thought I would be able to sit here and say these things – it’s taken me so many years to get here – and I’m so grateful to have these words be Truth:
I moved from a place of fear to a place of joy, from one of restriction into one of abundance.
I want you to know that it is possible.
I was fortunate: I had a doctor that suggested I go on medication for anxiety. Doing this gave me breathing space from its intensity and helped me begin to heal from the damage it caused. Under her care, I created my first food journal that listed what I ate, how I was feeling and any triggers that occurred. Putting it to paper, I was able to start to see patterns, events and behaviors and learn healthy ways to react to them.
I was lucky: I worked with two really good therapists who helped me at significant turning points in my life. One, a grief counselor after my dad died, and the other a cognitive behavioral therapist when I decided that I needed to live more than just exist. The first taught me how much paper journalling can help with processing thoughts and feelings, the second gave me the tools so that I could diffuse anxiety if and when it spiked.
I was loved: I fell in love with a guy who shared his love of food and cooking with me — so many tastes, textures, spices, flavors. Each meal became an adventure in discovery, and even though we aren’t together anymore, his influence on the way I view food resonates deeply.
I was blessed: I learned how much a self-care practice can ground and heal you. A dear friend introduced me to the concept of a self-care practice. She showed me the power in and strength of honoring my needs, and taught me the fundamentals of creating my practice. I learned that when I live my practice, my core is strong. I am solid, rooted, unshakeable. My practice informs every piece of my life.
When I was younger I hated anxiety, I hated the way it limited me, the way I felt when I was deep inside it. The tears and doubts and worries, the lack of belief I had in myself and my body.
I hated the way I felt when I wasn’t eating, when I would get so hungry that it hurt but I still wouldn’t eat. When I wanted to eat but believed that restricting what I ate would make all the ugly things go away.
Now, I’m sitting here grateful to both of them. If there’d been no anxiety, I don’t know who I would be. Living with anxiety has made me stronger, determined. I am not going to just live with anxiety, I am going to thrive despite it. It’s given me lessons in taking care with my body, a soft and empathetic heart, and a fierce desire to help others. Heck, I even got a victory dance out of it.
If the years with disordered eating hadn’t happened, I don’t know if I would find such joy in cooking now — mixing spices and vegetables, the scents and aromas. I don’t know if I would enjoy all of the tastes and textures of food, if I would appreciate or revel in experiencing something new. If I would realize that enjoying it so deeply was a gift.
I wouldn’t sit when something triggers me and say thank you for this moment and this reminder of where I was before and where I am now.
This is my path, these are my lessons and I choose to find the blessings in it all.
Beautiful. I truly believe out of our greatest hurts come our greatest gifts. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for reading, Robin.
It’s funny, after I typed “If there’d been no anxiety” I sat and stared at the screen. I couldn’t picture what my life would be like, who I would be, if I hadn’t grown up with anxiety. Living with anxiety gave me so many beautiful things, even with all the mess. It’s been a teacher in a so many ways and I’m grateful for each of its lessons.
I agree. Our pain creates the pathway for exponential growth and healing, if we let. Letting it teach us is the hard part, but it is very possible. Thanks for sharing your story Jenn!
Oh, there’s some truth right there. It’s easy to want to close off or ignore all of the things that hurt you, it’s normal. I mean, who wants to hurt like that? I ignored it all until the pain was all I could see, no matter where I looked. It needed attention, it needed to be acknowledged. I think writing this all these years into it was part of that.
♥
<3
♥ to you, C.
I had goosebumps reading this, knowing that putting these words to paper is part of this healing journey, one that we are all a part of.
Love ya, Jenn Gibson. These words you wrote are the thank you to life that is so joyful to read.
I love YOU, Hannah Marcotti. Writing this was really challenging, it was so hard. Ha, you know that, though. I feel so much better now that I’ve let all this out. Thank you for being here.
my god. i know this all too well. i’ve suffered from severe anxiety & panic attacks since i was a small girl. always it affected my belly, made me unable to eat in front of people. made me silent. made me stay home.
you have come so much farther than i, though i am so much older, but this post gives me hope. hope that i’ll be able to participate in a retreat for an online course – i am one of the instructors and terrified at the travel involved. travel is my “thing” – almost a phobia, always triggering the worst panic. it holds me back. despite medication and wonderful drs., it holds me back.
thank you for this. bless you.
This spot that I’m in, where you are? They’re both exactly perfect, we’re both exactly where we need to be, learning what we need to.
For years after my dad died, I wouldn’t go far from home. The first time I drove somewhere that felt “far,” oh what a mess I was — tears and fear and a snotty nose and humming loudly to myself the whole time to drown out the fear. When I got there I only stayed a few minutes and then left, quickly. I still get twinges of that, it’s hard, and the CBT comes in handy then.
It only takes one step to start moving. You can do it, Debi, I believe in you.
♥
Thank you for this.
Thank you for being here, Anna. ♥
Thank you so much for opening yourself up, being vulnerable, and sharing this today. I honor your courage.
Thank you for sharing this with me, Jess. I sat on this post for a week, things got a little angsty in here, ha! It feels really good to let all of this out.
I so appreciate the courage and vulnerability you share with us so willingly. I can relate even though my story is different. Your words connect beyond the differences and that is amazing.
Oh, Sandi. Thank you, so much. This story was really hard to share, I kept nitpicking it, even this morning I was playing with prepositions, bahaha. I’m glad to finally let this one go. ♥
Beautiful and brave, Jenn! This will help so many people see that it’s possible to help themselves, that there is a way to get to the other side of those crazy-making, self-sabotaging thoughts. Kudos to you!
Thank you so much, Liv!
Brava for sharing! I find it so empowering to share my darker corners, to shed light there which gives others permission to look into their own shadows and bring love there. Thank you!
Thank you, Maggie! And oh yeah, I completely agree with you, sharing our stories, even when it’s hard, helps each other so much. Maybe especially when it’s hard.
Little JG & Little A are in a room together, hugging. Little A is telling Little JG that she has panic attacks too — & asking, we are going to be okay, right? Neither of us knowing that things were going to get so much worse through the years & also not knowing that things would get so, so, so much better after that. 6 year old A wishes that Little JG was there the first time her parents took her to the ER because of an attack – methinks it would have made a world of difference – to know that we weren’t alone.
This is beautiful, you are so brave — divine, LOVED. Thank you for giving others permission to open up by way of telling your story. I love you. <3
And I love you.
I think us as Littles would’ve been like peas and carrots. And you’re right, we always would’ve known that we weren’t alone. I’m sorry you were scared, I want to squeeze Little A and tell it that she’s safe and that it will all be ok.
That’s the thing with anxiety, especially when you are small, is that you have no idea what’s going on, it’s like everything inside of you is on red alert but you don’t know why, no one can tell you why. I could never articulate why, I just always said “I don’t feel good.”
Thank you for sharing this with me and for all of your support. ♥
Jen, fortunate, loved, lucky, blessed to have read this.
I wonder at time how to express something that feels so tender and real and allow myself and others to receive it in a way that may create a meaningful, wise, and powerfully shift in the universe.
you should me the way. much love, amy
Aw, Amy, you’ve got me smiling and blushing, ha! Thank you for sharing this space.
You are such a gift in the world. Thank you for sharing this. AMAZING!!!! Just like you!
Jo Anna! Thank you!
PS. Remember my block? I’m painting it this weekend, oh yeaaaah.
It’s crazy for me to look back at the majority of my life lived in anxiety, and how I thought that was a normal state of being. It’s still a daily struggle but boy am I grateful for therapy. There is another way to live!
Heard that, loud and clear. You are so right.
Thank you so much for sharing your journey from anxiety and shame to abundance. One thing that resonated with me throughout your story is that you called to you amazing resources so you didn’t have to do it alone. Shame so often isolates us in our process and there are so many people out there just waiting to cross paths with each and every one of us and provide help, healing and miracles.
Thank you for the reminder that we are not alone and the resources that you and your amazing Tribe provide show that we are community and can reach out and touch one another in such meaningful ways.
I didn’t reach out to anyone until after my dad died, which was almost 15 years after my first anxiety attack. At that point, I was in the sink-or-swim mindset and I really needed to start swimming. I didn’t tell anyone anything about anxiety or eating, I was just the high-strung friend of the group, the one who would flake at the last minute for no apparent reason.
It’s hard to ask for help, to let yourself be that vulnerable and that open about a problem. It’s like, hey I’m already having a really rough time, let’s add some fear of rejection on top of that along with a dash the potential for being judged, stir it all up and see what we get.
I got help, I got support. I also got judged and rejected along the way, but whatevs, it happens. That wasn’t on me.
Thank you for being here, Mia. I appreciate you.
I love how you have taken us back right to the start and shown how patterns can be formed so early, I too remember early days of school but never anything good, first day freak outs, beating my teacher, weeing myself as I sat at the table, being left in the corner for punishment by accident while everyone went to lunch ( I stood there the whole hour!)
I have been reading the ‘Answer’ and learning about how our minds make patterns and paths and its explaining anxiety amazingly, I have only had anxiety 3 years now but like you I realise Im only existing and not really living, I have made myself village bound and dont drive anywhere thats more than 10 mins away, town is 30 mins so that requires me being babysat and walked thru the shops I need to go to. How did I get here??? I dont know but I am here. restarting therapy, cognitive therapy next week, this is my year to retrain my brain.
thankyou so much for your story, you have taught me alot about the connection of anxiety and habits, ohhh our powerful minds!!
Love your work
Love your story
xxx
sheree
Hi there, Sheree, thank you so much for sharing this. Therapy’s a really big step, I’m proud of you for taking it. Sending you positive vibes in abundance and my best wishes.
Thank you for opening yourself up, it was beautiful! I lost my Dad four months ago and my love/hate relationship with food reared its ugly head for a while until I put my Dad’s wish for me into practice. At first I wanted to keep it all to myself, it felt too personal to share. Now it seems to important to keep to myself. “Enjoy your life”. Simple yet profound. I started doing it for him, now I’m at a place where I can do it for me, which is exactly what he wanted.
Big hugs and lots of love,
Dana
Hey Dana — thank you so much for stopping by, and for sharing this. Your dad left you with such a beautiful wish, reading this piece of your story made me smile. ♥
Thank you so much for sharing your story and so much of yourself in this website. You are such a courageous and beautiful soul. It is such an important reminder that our pasts are just as they were supposed to be, we are just as we should be right now, and the future is bright and open.
Thank you for reading — and yes, it can take a while to realize that everything that’s happened, everything that’s brought us to this very point, happened exactly as it was supposed to.
Love that you spoke about this. I am also an eating disorder and body image advocate who is in recovery from numerous eating disorders, as well as having struggled with anxiety, panic disorder, substance abuse and have found great liberation in sharing my story with others. I know this may have been a challenge to write and share, but through it all you remain open, vulnerable and honest. Kudos to you and sharing your story!
Hey there, Kendra, thank you so much for writing. I was so worried that what I wrote could be triggering for someone, once the story was finished, that’s what I kept coming back to. Because I know that there have been times, even in the recent past, when I’ve visited some of my favorite sites and the first story I saw was about disordered eating. It would upset me, tear at me. I needed to take care with this one. I’m glad it landed softly.
This is what fierce love looks like to me.
Mad respect + my undying admiration.
TG
Tanya! Woman, I’m grinning so hard right now. Thank you for being everything that you are. ♥
Jenn,
Thank you for trusting us with your story. Your sharing means others don’t feel so alone, that things can be better, that there is reason to hope. Your courage and love and generous spirit are so appreciated.
xo Jennifer
Thank you for helping me to continue this as a safe space. It felt so good to let this story out.
You are so bright with courage Jenn. Thank you for once again opening your story to us, and softening the shame so many of us dance with alone.
<3
Danette! Seeing this from you, I’m smiling super huge right now. After I wrote this, woman, I felt so much lighter. My heart let go of something that I didn’t even know it had been holding on to. If you don’t know you’re clinging to something, how can you ever let it go? You can’t.
It feels really good to finally get these words out, I’d missed writing, too.
I hope you are having the best of days. ♥
Thank you for sharing your story. I was that same little girl. There is comfort in numbers knowing that none of us have to suffer alone.
Thank you for reading, Tricia. And you’re so right — we don’t have to go at it alone. xox
Your story is so helpful to me. Once again, someone has brought me further along my road by their fearless sharing. Thank you for your honesty…it truly is a beautiful thing, the way you can relay what you learned from your experiences. You make me see what people mean when they tell me that sharing my story, or parts of it, helps people. You remind me why – oh, why – such things happen in our lives. In my case, disordered eating, addiction, being a survivor, bouts of depression and yes, anxiety…to come through some of these things is to be stronger and also to have ways of helping others to come through…strong. You are very, very strong and your way of explaining is very beautiful. Thank you for inspiring me to keep growing and to keep sharing.
Thank you for reading, Joan, and for sharing this. I don’t really know what else to say but that. ♥
Jenn – I am so happy to hear that you reached this point and now can have a positive relationship with food. Some 15 years into an ED, I am hoping some day I will get to where you are now. I act on my ED symptoms when I don’t know how to express my feelings (I was often taught to hide them growing up) or when I am feeling guilt and shame (feelings that overcome me almost every day).
As you, I would not change my ED. It has made me the person I am today. It has made me stronger than I ever thought I could be. It has made me talk about things I thought I could never share with anyone else. And it helped me find art therapy, which I absolutely love and continue to discover new stuff about myself every day.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Oh, Jen. I hear you, know that I do. Thank you for the soft landing, and for sharing a part of your story. ♥
Jen,
Coming through the woods and out into onto the ridgeline means you can appreciate that amazing view and the quiet calm it instills. Here you are, looking out and over, feeling into what has made you YOU and bringing it along with.
THANK YOU for showing us your owies. This is what gives us permission to remember our own, and to bring them out into the light. This is deep healing. xo
Oh yes, Amy, exactly. When I was writing this… I realized how much has changed, how much I’ve grown because of the anxiety. I wouldn’t be me if I’d never had those experiences and I love who I am. Thank you for being here, and for sharing this with me.
Jen, Thank you for your very personal story. Your experience, strength and hope is meaningful to me and others. xoxo Terah
Hi there, Terah, thank you for being here.
Thanks Jenn, for a reminder that what I’ve been through (and still often struggle with) hasn’t been all for nothing! Thank you for sharing your story! *hugs*
Thank you for being here, Chrissy, and for sharing in this with me.
Dear Jen,
Thank you for sharing your brave & beautiful story with us! I’m inspired by your courageous journey! I too have struggled with anxiety & felt that my life would always be darkened by its presence. I found healing through yoga & therapy and now I’m a yoga teacher & therapist! I too can’t imagine who I would be without my struggles and I’m grateful to be able to serve others with similar struggles through my work.
Namaste,
Mindy
Oh, Mindy, thank you for your support and kind words. And yes, I hear you on yoga — doing yoga helps me so much, having a regular practice, the power and clarity and healing from that is amazing. It’s so big. And how cool is that that you can combine the two together? That’s awesome!
The stories of our disordered pasts are powerful. Yet, each person who struggles with food and eating and body image also struggles to tell the story, even when we know in our hearts that it would help someone else. You’re so strong and courageous to share this with the world (and thoughtful to mark it so to avoid triggering others).
I still haven’t written my story. The bravery is failing me there, I’m afraid. Someday.
It was hard, writing this left me feeling really tender, but sharing it was so powerful. This helped.
(And your heart is brave, simply by leaving the comment.)
Thank you, Jenn. As Adrienne Rich said, “When a woman tells the truth she is creating the possibility for more truth around her”.
Thank you for reading, and for being here.
Jenn… oh, how much hope this gives me–YOU give me. I’ve struggled with social anxiety all of my life. I’ve only recently discovered that I find so much relief when I simply open up, telling the people I am with what’s happening, why, and that I love being with them even if it doesn’t seem that way. It’s amazing what love pours back when we’re willing to be vulnerable and honest (in a safe place, of course).
I’m teary-eyed at the community here, the communing, the gentle coming together of hurt & healing people. You are a wise and gentle leader. Thank you for being willing to share your story, and to do so with such kindness and respect–for yourself and for the reader.
Oh, Amanda. Thank you, for sharing this and for stopping by. It’s hard to open up to people about this, you don’t know how it will land. You don’t know if they’ll understand about the anxiety — I know that for a long (looooong) time I didn’t talk about it because I didn’t understand the anxiety, so how could I expect other people to do so.
The first time I told someone about all of this, it felt like my heart cracked open. There was just a little bit more space to breathe. ♥
[...] Shame, anxiety, and disordered eating – a beautifully thoughtful piece by Jenn Gibson on Roots of She. [...]
Here’s a beautiful quote from the introduction of a book I picked up over the weekend and I think is appropriate: “Hidden blessings inside suffering… We are given our lives, our fear, our broken bones, and broken hearts. Breaks create openings that were not there before, and in that space grow the seeds for a new creation.” The book is by Rebecca Wells, “Little Alters Everywhere.”
Oh, that’s so lovely, Monique, and so true.
Hey there,
I don’t know you and have never read your website until a random Google search today led me to your page.
I’m 23 and have been dealing with a similar yet slightly different situation to yours, dealing with depression, anxiety, disordered eating (that is mostly better now) and what I have to realize is a huge stem of it all: shame. Your post really touched me a lot knowing that I’m not the only one out there dealing with this and I will get better.
I’m trying to understand it all and it feels as if my life has fallen apart and I can’t explain to anyone why or how or what I’ve been doing…
Hopefully each day I can get stronger to feel less shame and appreciate the good awareness it can give me. Thank you for your touching post <3
Hi there, Amanda. Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing this.
♥