When Food Feels Impossible: Restrictive Eating, Dysregulation, and the Neurodivergent Body

By Tim Aiello, MA, LPC, NCC, ADHD-CCSP, ASDCS

Clinical Director of Myndset Therapeutics

There are times when I look at food and feel absolutely nothing. No hunger. No interest. No craving. Just a quiet disconnect—a kind of numbness that settles in when my nervous system is overloaded.

This is what restrictive food aversion looks like for me. It’s not about control or willpower. It’s about survival.

When I become deeply dysregulated—when the world becomes too loud, too fast, too much—my appetite shuts down. My body enters a protective mode. Eating becomes one more task my brain can’t prioritize. Even if I know I should eat, even if there’s food in front of me, I can't connect to the part of myself that cares.

Polyvagal Theory and the Shut-Down of Appetite

Polyvagal Theory (Porges, 2011) gives language to this experience. When I’m regulated and in a ventral vagal state, I can feel hunger. I can even enjoy eating. But when I slide down the polyvagal ladder into sympathetic activation or dorsal vagal shutdown, everything changes.

In a sympathetic state (fight or flight), my body is preparing to escape or defend—not to digest. And in dorsal shutdown, my system goes even further. It slows everything down, conserving energy, disconnecting me from physical signals like hunger, thirst, or even the desire to speak. This is a biological survival response, not a conscious choice.

For neurodivergent individuals, especially those with Autism or AuDHD, these state shifts can happen quickly and often. Environmental overload, emotional stress, sensory mismatches—they all pile up. And when they do, eating can feel impossible.

Not a Preference, Not a Phase

For so long, restrictive eating was misunderstood in neurodivergent communities. People would say things like "just eat something," or "you’re being picky."

But this isn't about preference. This is about regulation.

When I’m in shutdown, it’s not that I don’t want to eat. It’s that I literally can’t. My body isn’t sending me the right cues, and food textures, smells, or even the energy required to chew and swallow can feel insurmountable.

Current research supports this experience. Autistic individuals and those with co-occurring ADHD often experience atypical interoception, meaning our ability to sense internal bodily cues (like hunger or fullness) is different (Mahler, 2019; Schauder & Bennetto, 2016). This makes us more vulnerable to patterns of under-eating or restricted intake, especially under stress.

The Cycle of Dysregulation and Depletion

Here’s the cruel irony: the more dysregulated I become, the less I can eat. But the less I eat, the more dysregulated I get.

Blood sugar drops. Executive functioning tanks. Emotional resilience disappears. My body gets shakier, my brain foggier. And still, the idea of food can feel like an enormous mountain.

This is the cycle I often have to fight to break. Not with shame. Not with "shoulds." But with compassion and strategy.

Meeting Myself Where I Am

Over time, I’ve learned to work with my nervous system instead of against it. Some days, I can’t cook a full meal. But I can keep safe foods nearby. I can sip on smoothies. I can eat a handful of crackers or a piece of toast. I can remove pressure and allow myself to nourish my body in whatever small way it can handle.

This is nervous system-informed eating. It’s rooted in the belief that my body isn't broken—it’s responding exactly how it needs to in order to protect me.

I teach my clients this too: Start small. Start with what feels doable. Re-regulate first if you can—take a breath, use cold water, find safety. And then feed your body, one bite at a time.

Final Thoughts

Restrictive food aversion isn’t laziness. It’s not defiance. It’s a nervous system that has dropped out of connection with appetite, often for deeply valid reasons.

If this is your experience, know you’re not alone. There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing shameful about needing support to eat. You’re allowed to approach nourishment with softness and adaptation.

Because being neurodivergent means we often have to create our own rules. And when it comes to eating, the only rule I follow now is this: meet yourself where you are.

References

• Mahler, K. (2019). Interoception: The Eighth Sensory System. AAPC Publishing.

• Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self-regulation. W.W. Norton.

• Schauder, K. B., & Bennetto, L. (2016). Toward an Interdisciplinary Understanding of Sensory Dysfunction in Autism Spectrum Disorder: An Integration of the Neural and Symptom Literatures. Frontiers in Neuroscience, 10, 268. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnins.2016.00268