I was so stressed about climate change that I took it out on my own body

This is a First Person column by Andrea Johancsik, who lives in Calgary. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, see the FAQ.

"It is up to you," our professor said to the dozen young faces in our university seminar.

She thumped her palm on the table, agitated. 

"No one else is going to fix the world's environmental problems. You're looking for the world's leaders? They're in this room." 

The room fell quiet except for the sound of a classmate's habitual pencil-twirling. But in my body, my heartbeat was a deafening whoosh. Hot shame crept up my chest.

In today's world, it's impossible to escape climate discussions and everyone reacts differently to stress in their life. But my reaction went to a really dark place and it took me years to find my way out.

As a first-year student, I tried to have a social life that measured up to the photos friends posted on social media, while also studying for hours in my dorm room alone, feeling like if I failed my next exam, it would mean failing at life. 

I didn't know how to cope, so I disconnected from others emotionally and ate bags of snacks and candy while studying. One afternoon, I was so disgusted with myself I made myself throw up. I felt ashamed but also some relief from the pressure I put myself under. 

When I returned for my second year, my courses were more challenging and so was the content. That's when the "eco" aspect of my anxiety added to the pressure.

For hours each day, I learned about the horrid state of our planet. I watched documentaries of self-serving CEOs running profit-hungry corporations at the expense of the world's poor. I listened to lectures on companies carelessly throwing toxic waste onto Indigenous lands. I read articles about the problem of poachers who caught and sold endangered species. 

Then I tried to shake it off but pre-drinking with friends on a Friday night felt strange and self-indulgent.

I started obsessing about food to cope — it felt purposeful, and a welcome distraction to the doom and gloom. At one point, I decided to only buy produce grown locally to make a point about the food system. Eating local apples and pears reduces harmful emissions from transportation — but this challenge turned into something that was more about a false sense of control for me in the face of uncertainty than eating right.

Sometimes I was so overwhelmed with what food choices were best for the planet, I hardly ate at all.

I kept this eating disorder a secret from family, friends and classmates. If they suspected, they never said anything. Perhaps it was their own fear of being outed — even in my small program, I can think of a handful of women whose sharp, thin bodies and dark circles under their eyes suggested anorexia.