My Honest Take: Can Carnivore Actually Heal Your Anxiety, Or Is It Just a Trend?

A real look at what changed when I cut everything—except meat.

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

I didn’t come to the carnivore diet because I thought it was cool. I came because I was exhausted, heavy in my mind and body, and tired of pretending that the things I was doing were helping. Therapy hadn’t moved the needle much. Meds numbed me but never fixed the fog. Meditation helped sometimes—but not enough to climb out of the hole.

I tried carnivore as a last resort. I stayed because something started to shift.

This isn’t a claim that meat alone will fix your mental health. It won’t undo trauma or rebuild broken boundaries. But if you’ve been walking through life with a flat affect, chronic worry, or bone-deep fatigue—this might be the conversation you didn’t know you needed.

Let me explain why.

The Anxiety I Carried Every Day

Before carnivore, I thought anxiety was just my personality. I overthought, overreacted, and lived in a permanent state of “what if.” My resting heart rate was high. I’d get sudden stomach cramps just thinking about errands. Crowded spaces? Forget it.

I wasn’t sleeping deeply. I’d wake up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. My brain was loud all the time—internal arguments, intrusive thoughts, worries on loop.

I was eating "healthy" by conventional standards—greens, smoothies, whole grains, low-fat dairy. But my body was bloated, my skin was inflamed, and I was crashing hard every afternoon. No one told me that blood sugar swings could feel like a panic attack.

So I Cut Everything Except Meat

The first few days on carnivore weren’t magical. I had headaches. I missed coffee. But I stuck with it. Within the first two weeks, I noticed something shocking: