It's Apparently Easy To Forget That Bottled Up Tension, Stress, and Anxiety Does Impact Your Health and Aggravates IBS

Talking, reflecting, and small actions: the surprising keys to feeling more like myself. A chat with my Mom and a few adjustments that hopefully make a big difference.

The Struggles of Living with IBS and Anxiety

The past few weeks have been rough for me. I’ve been dealing with random IBS flare-ups and exhaustion that leads to hit-and-miss insomnia. It’s made even basic functioning a struggle, and honestly, it’s taken a toll on my quality of life. At my lowest points, I’ve found myself thinking about MAID again—not because I’m suicidal (I’m absolutely not, but don’t judge those who have) but because I’ve tried so much over the years to manage my IBS and anxiety, and I’m just at my wit’s end. What kind of life am I living when my health issues have clearly been running the show?

A Much-Needed Chat With Mom

A few days ago, I had an impromptu FaceTime call with my Mom. She’s house-sitting in Courtenay on Vancouver Island right now—lucky her—and what started as a casual check-in turned into a pretty deep conversation. I opened up about what I’ve been dealing with, how overwhelming it’s been, and yes, even about my thoughts around MAID.

She knows I’m not suicidal and assured me she wouldn’t judge me even if I was, and even completely understands why I would be, but we both agree that MAID is the better choice if I were to decide to do it.

It turned out to be a calm, therapeutic chat where I was able to get some things off my chest—the pressure, the stress, and the steps I’ve been taking to improve my quality of life. (I’ll share more about those in future posts: things like Medical Keto, chicken broth, and focusing on better sleep.)

Mom has rarely been willing to talk about this stuff. It’s also triggering for her, and she doesn’t handle it well (who would?). She often clams right up and refuses to discuss it, and that’s her right. Usually, I prefer that and avoid it because she’s often one of my triggers and a major source of my stress and anxiety. We certainly can’t talk about when she’s at home.

After that call, I felt like a pressure valve had been released. My body relaxed in a way I hadn’t experienced in ages, and over the next few days, I noticed a real difference. I was functioning better, getting things done, and even sleeping more soundly. I’m not sure I expect another chat like that with Mom, but it was the sign I needed.

Feeling “Normal” Again

Yesterday was a turning point. For the first time in a long time, I ran errands and got through the day without being bogged down by anxiety or IBS. I wasn’t constantly thinking about my symptoms, and for most of that day, I felt almost...normal.

It reminded me how much I need those genuine moments of connection—conversations that help me process what I’m going through without triggering my symptoms and getting all worked up. Talking to someone, even when it’s my Mom, who is often a trigger, and then following it up with small activities, like getting a bit more active, seems to be a big part of what helps me.

The Challenge of Being Active with IBS

Getting active has always been tricky for me because I need to stay close to a toilet, preferably one that’s well-equipped, and it’s comforting to be at home for that reason.

Let’s face it—most public bathrooms aren’t ideal for someone who might need to be in there for 30–45 minutes. My bowel movements don’t happen all at once, and the whole situation feels awkward and inconvenient, so I avoid it.

But I’m starting to see how much this has hold me back. I’m planning to call 811, the health information line in Alberta staffed by nurses, to find someone I can talk to regularly—someone with trauma experience who can help me process things without adding to my symptoms. This isn’t day-to-day stress, and it is not to minimize it.

If I can find that balance, I think I’d feel more comfortable getting out and trying new activities, like heading to the local rec center. I’ve even thought about trying one of those group rope gymnastics classes. I'm not sure what it’s officially called, but it’s been on my mind. I noticed classes in a rec center where we used to live, and it caught my interest. I like physical activity where it forces me to entirely focus on that task, much like kayaking with a group on a lake I did years ago. Get distracted, and you’ll potentially capsize in the middle of the lake.

Breaking the Cycle of Bottling Things Up

In our go-go-go world, it’s easy to keep everything bottled up just to make it through the day. I know I’m guilty of that. But I’ve realized I can’t keep doing it. I don’t need a traditional therapist—I’ve found they often don’t understand what I’ve been through or how it affects me. Venting to someone who doesn’t truly get it just ends up making my symptoms worse, which is why I stopped going years ago.

I’m not looking to vent about “all my problems” or be all dramatic. That’s not who I am, though I have legitimate concerns. I’m a simple guy. I just want a space to reflect, share what’s on my mind, and get help processing it with dwelling on the past. From there, I can focus on taking steps to improve my quality of life—simple, actionable things that might make a real difference.