Day in my SIBO-riddled life.

Ever woken up, pulling the covers over your head, because you’re afraid of the coming day and all days after? 

My entire existence for twelve years was dread and anxiety, until I figured out my IBS did not exist and it was a condition called SIBO. Since few people are talking about the mental toll of SIBO, here’s a short story of a day in my life and the emotional grip it had on me. 

If you are struggling with SIBO or IBS and you need some reassurance that you’re not crazy for feeling how you’re feeling? Please read on. I felt similarly for most of my days while struggling with chronic digestive issues.

What is SIBO?

Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth is a most misunderstood condition. It took me twelve years to figure out I had it, because doctors kept pointing me in other directions (IBS, just food intolerances and the most common one: stress.)

It’s much more simple than that:

it’s exactly what the name suggests.

A tonne of bacteria in your small intestine, a place where normally only a few stray bacteria live. These bacteria unfortunately come with a long list of of symptoms as they chomp away at your food. The small intestine’s job is to take in most of the good nutrients and then transport the leftovers to the large intestines where they’re being broken down into waste. 

Bacteria are actually very helpful in the large intestines, but in the small intestines not so much. 

They can cause: bloating, gas, abdominal pain and nutrient malabsorption as they eat your hard earned food, leaving only a little for you. As they eat, the produce gases which cause the bloating and can lead to diarrhea, constipation or a mix of the two.

But what about the mental toll of these symptoms?

A day in my SIBO-riddled life.

Every morning I wake up feeling unrested, a rather bleak way to start the day. Usually, I’ve fallen asleep at around 9.30pm, absolutely exhausted. Most evenings, my head barely touches the pillow before I’m out. My partner and I have dubbed it my automatic Windows reboot. I never questioned it, but I can finally see it for what it really is:

pure & absolute exhaustion. 

Mornings are a little better. As a morning person by heart, I have always loved the quiet of mornings and have loved to annoy my partner by chatting his head of. But now, I know I have to focus on getting things done as soon as possible. 

Self-help gurus call it: eating the frog.

Start by those things that are more important and most urgent, the ones you dread the most. For me it’s usually a quick sweep through my house, because I cannot work if it’s not at least a little bit tidy. Clean house, clean head in a way. And then it’s quickly starting on any big work projects I’m trying to get done. 

Breakfast is quickly forgotten and when I finally make time for it, I’m usually cranky and annoyed. What food will I get? I know I have close to none truly safe foods, so dread starts to fill me too. A bread roll with some sort of spread is what I go for. 

A few moments later, I slowly feel my energy drain faster. All of my energy is now in my stomach, I feel it working hard as my digestion tries to do its job. My concentration is slowly slipping away as the buttons of my clothes start pulling more. 

My stomach is swelling, the bloat comes up so quickly that I’ve learned to inhale my food, rather than take my time with it.

The health gurus won’t be happy, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve tried. I’ve tried it all. Chewing properly, eating slowly, removing all distractions and eating at the table. But it doesn’t matter. My stomach swells up within minutes after eating and nothing seems to help.

I notice it and try to drink water, hope that it helps. But nothing helps. I push the bread roll away and try to focus on my work again. The words dance slowly, as if to mock me and I have a hard time focusing, feeling my hand reach for my phone often and having to wistfully put it back on my laptop. 

Unfortunately, my energy seeps away quicker than I can get food in and I’m trying to figure out where to get some energy from. A coffee won’t work, I don’t like the taste and caffeine doesn’t work with me. Maybe some chocolate? I know it’ll hurt, but a big plate of food will hurt even more. I know what will happen. I’ll fight with myself to try and eat healthy, but the pain will get more and I’ll eat the chocolate eventually. Perhaps even finishing the entire bar. 

As the day goes on, my anxiety goes up more and more. I have a dinner planned with friends in the evening, but how will I manage that? I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, my work isn’t even done yet and my friends want to go and eat Indian. I can’t eat anything there. 

My friends were sweet and checked the menu for me, they suggest I can eat some of the side dishes and mix it with some rice to get something out of it. They smile and say excitedly: at least everything here is vegetarian! I don’t trust it. There is going to be spices on all of it. 

The dread follows me the rest of the afternoon and by the time 6 pm rolls around, I am only a sliver of energy. I tell my boyfriend I don’t know if I can go and he’s starting to get impatient. Come on, we haven’t seen them in weeks and you love seeing them! I agree, but can only think of my bed for the whole way there. 

I’ve worn my favourite skirt and am already regretting it. It’s a little tight and my bread roll from earlier still isn’t agreeing with me. 

My friends are chatting excitedly amongst themselves and I am trying to focus on their conversation, but I feel like a terrible sadness monster. How can they love me when all I can do is complain and be sad? 

I am trying to listen, but I’m zoomed out. My energy is still seeping away slowly. The menu gives me the shivers and ultimately I choose a tomato based starter and some fried rice to go with it. The waiter promises he’ll make sure there won’t be any garlic, but I’ve heard that before and don’t get my hopes up. 

Of course I’m right and the first time, I can smell the garlic from all the way at the other side of the restaurant. My head starts running through the scenarios: do I try a few bites? Do I sent it back? I don’t want to be a bother and all my friends already have all their food. I choose to send it back regardless. 

It has taken me years to dare that. The first time I sent something back, they had correctly left out the ingredient I asked them to remove, but added another ingredient because they thought it was sad I couldn’t eat onions. The ingredient they added was bell peppers, which I also can’t eat. 

The waiter is apologetic and scurries back to the kitchen, to come back a few minutes later: a new hot plate in hand.

It smells good, a little too good..

My spidey senses are going of. There is no way this is going to end well, I think, as I bite into my food. A few bites later, a wave of nausea hits me and I start to slow down. 

As my stomach swells up even more, it starts to feel like boiling water in my stomach. Waves of gas roll through my body, but they can’t go anywhere. It’s trapped. 

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and I just sit there as the pain comes in. In slow, crampy waves, the pain comes in steadily before subsiding for a few minutes. As I wash my hands, I try to put on my best fake smile and walk back to the table. As my friends chat on, I take a back seat in the conversation, my stomach too painful and swollen and asking me for most of my focus. 

As my partner and I go home after, he comments on how much fun it was. I am cranky and tell him my stomach hurts. He sighs. 

“That sucks.”

I nod and I watch him as he turns away from me slowly. He’s annoyed that we just had a nice night out and I come home with no energy and in pain again. I don’t disagree with him. It sucks. But what am I to do? 

SIBO and its mental toll

The above summary gives you a good idea of a common day for me. SIBO can feel like a constant worry from the moment you wake up, unsure whether your day will be manageable or derailed by symptoms. It often leads to avoiding social plans because of the fear of discomfort and embarrassment, which can create a sense of isolation and missing out on life. The experience is a true emotional rollercoaster—small victories and moments of relief mixed with discouraging flare-ups that knock you back down. 

I struggled a lot with the sadness and FOMO that comes from turning down invitations, not just because I knew  it wouldn’t fit. But also, because I had so little energy and was mostly exhausted. I needed much more downtime than much of my friends. My friends and family were mostly sweet, but I always felt like I was the odd one out. How can somebody in their twenties need so much alone time?

Actual mental symptoms related to SIBO

When we think of SIBO, we often focus on uncomfortable digestive symptoms—but the impact on the mind can be just as significant. Thanks to the brain-gut axis, ongoing inflammation and irritation in the digestive tract can contribute to what some refer to as “brain inflammation,” which may manifest as brain fog, difficulty concentrating, and persistent mood swings.

Anxiety can ramp up, too, as you constantly brace yourself for unexpected flare-ups or pain. This heightened state of stress can create a cycle where emotional distress worsens gut issues, and gut issues deepen the emotional toll. Recognizing and addressing these interconnected factors is key: by supporting both mental and physical health—through proper treatment, stress management, and dietary strategies—you’re more likely to break free from the vicious loop that SIBO can create.

Physical Discomfort Leading to Emotional Exhaustion

Living with a chronic illness like SIBO can make “normal” days feel like a distant memory. The never-ending digestive distress takes a toll on both your body and your mind, leaving you constantly bracing for the next wave of pain or discomfort. Over time, this can lead to severe emotional exhaustion, where you feel drained before you’ve even started your day. 

Impact on Relationships

Navigating friendships, romantic partnerships, and family dynamics while managing digestive distress isn’t easy. Dietary restrictions can force you to skip spontaneous dinner plans, avoid certain activities, or always be the one suggesting a “safe” restaurant. That can strain your connections, especially if the people around you don’t fully understand your condition. Over time, the relationship impact can grow—friends might feel brushed off, family might get frustrated, and you might feel isolated or guilty. 

Work and Career Implications

Trying to maintain a consistent work schedule with unpredictable symptoms can feel like juggling knives—you’re just waiting for something to drop. Focusing on tasks is tough when you’re worrying about flare-ups, needing extra bathroom breaks, or battling the mental fatigue that comes with chronic illness. The stress only compounds if you’re worried about coworkers or bosses not grasping the severity of your condition. Speaking up about your needs—whether that’s flexible hours or occasional remote work—can alleviate some of this pressure. While it might be uncomfortable to discuss your digestive distress, creating a supportive work environment ultimately helps you stay on track with both your professional goals and your overall well-being.

Conclusion

I was exhausted, for years on end.

Just now, now it’s starting to be a little better, have I noticed how ill I actually was. It wasn’t normal for me to feel this way and my doctors failed me when they just misdiagnosed me as having IBS with chronic stress. Of course you’re going to be stressed if your days look like this. I’m telling you now, it can get better. There is help and there are doctors who are specialised in SIBO, who can help you figure out how to fix it.

Don’t get me wrong, it won’t be easy, because unfortunately, it’s not as easy as just taking a pill and it’ll go away. It’ll take trial and error and probably blood, sweat and tears. But there is room for progress and improvement! I can finally eat again and it has led me to a whole new life that I will document another time.