Eating Disorder Counselling in Canterbury

Counsellor Who Cares

Compassionate, specialist support for adults and young people — because you deserve to be truly understood.
Start Your Journey
Counsellor Who Cares logo featuring two connected profiles and a heart, representing compassionate counselling.
There’s a particular kind of struggling that doesn’t look like struggling at all.

You still turn up. You still answer “fine” when someone asks how you are. You still do the school run, hit the deadline, reply to the message, hold the family together over dinner. From the outside, nothing looks wrong. That’s exactly the problem.

I see this a lot in my counselling room, and it doesn’t always arrive looking like classic burnout. The exhaustion, the tears, the obvious collapse. More often it arrives quietly, in someone who everyone else assumes is coping because they’ve always coped. I call it quiet cracking, and it’s different from the burnout most people picture.

The moment I know someone isn't fine

It's not a one-word answer

There’s a specific look I recognise now, almost every time. Someone logs on for a session and they’ve got that rabbit-in-headlights look the second I ask “how are you?” You can see the dread in it, they know they’re expected to say “fine,” and they’re bracing to say it. No one else in their life is actually asking them properly. So they deflect. They look away, break eye contact, flick from one subject to another, bouncing around whatever feels safer to talk about, until they’re ready to let the real thing surface.

That’s usually where I start asking a few more questions than “how are you” because if you actually listen underneath the deflecting, the overwhelm is there. Not sleeping properly. Not eating properly. The overthinking that won’t switch off. It’s rarely one crisis. It’s the accumulation of a hundred small things nobody, including them, ever stopped to add up.

Burnout is often oversimplified, treated like it has a single cause. A trauma, a moment, a trigger you can point to and fix. In reality it’s learned behaviour and survival. It’s a spider web, and the person sitting in front of you is right there in the middle of it, with dozens of threads pulling on them at once.
When I’m trying to understand where someone actually is, I’m asking about all of it: how things have been, who’s in their life, what’s worked, what hasn’t, how they’re sleeping, what they’d call their biggest success and, just as tellingly, what they’d call their biggest weakness. Because nine times out of ten, what I find is someone who desperately wants to stop, feels like they can’t, and keeps piling pressure on themselves to keep going anyway.

Who I see this in most

I see this pattern especially clearly in people living with eating disorders. From the outside they may still be going to work, caring for others, achieving academically or socially. People assume they’re coping because they’re functioning. But underneath there’s often an exhausting battle nobody else sees and that’s often the clearest example of quiet cracking there is.

I notice it just as often in neurodivergent clients, particularly those who’ve spent years masking. They look incredibly capable to everyone else, while using enormous amounts of energy simply getting through an ordinary day.

And when we’ve lived through difficult experiences, our nervous system often learns that slowing down isn’t safe. Rest can feel uncomfortable. Being productive becomes protection. That’s one reason quiet cracking can be so hard to recognise, we’ve spent years learning to survive by appearing capable.

The body says what you won't

I sometimes notice people experiencing recurring physical symptoms during periods of prolonged stress. It might be tension headaches, muscle pain, frequent illness or digestive problems. Stress doesn’t cause every physical symptom, but our minds and bodies are closely connected, so it’s always worth paying attention to what your body might be trying to tell you.

What’s striking is how often people will find every reason to keep pushing through rather than giving themselves permission to stop. So instead, the body does it for them. Sometimes what someone actually needs is a doctor’s note, not because they’re physically unwell, but because it’s the only permission they’ll accept: someone else, in an official capacity, telling them to stop, because they couldn’t tell themselves.

I've cracked quietly too

I’m not saying any of this from the outside looking in. Running two businesses and being the person people rely on to hold things steady, I know what it feels like to get so overwhelmed I want to stare at a wall and not speak to anyone. I’ve isolated myself in ways that didn’t actually help. And for years, my body’s way of telling me to stop was laryngitis — because I wasn’t voicing what I needed, I was pushing feelings down instead of being present and honest with myself.

Since I started actually speaking up saying what I think and feel without bracing for someone to reject me for it, being willing to say “this doesn’t work for me,” building real boundaries around my time and energy, I very rarely get laryngitis anymore. That’s not a coincidence.

What it feels like to finally be heard

A client sent me this message after a session recently, and I asked if I could share it because it says more than I could:

“Hi Becky, I just wanted to say thank you for the session and taking the time to ask if I’m ok, I don’t think anyone else has actually asked. I felt heard and safe to say how I’ve been feeling which I really needed this week.”

That’s it, really. That’s what shifts things. Not a magic technique. Just someone genuinely asking, and genuinely listening to the answer, without judgement.

Becky Stone and Jenny Tomei discussing eating disorder recovery and support.

Where to start, if this is you

The one thing I want you to take from this

The first thing is simply recognising it whether it’s one thing or, more likely, an accumulation of lots of things that have built up quietly over time. That’s how the cracking happens: layer by layer. Be honest with yourself, and really listen to what you’re saying when you talk about your own life, not just what you think you’re supposed to say.

Sometimes you can’t hear it from inside your own head. That’s where someone like me comes in, able to take the helicopter view, listen to everything that’s going on, and help piece it together so you can actually move forward, instead of just holding on.

You’re not going to fall apart by talking about it.

I don’t have a magic wand, and I can’t see into your soul. I don’t always get it right, and I make mistakes like anyone else. What I can do is ask the curious questions and help work out roughly where you are in all of it, one step at a time.

So if any of this sounds like you: reach out to somebody safe, somebody you trust, somebody you can actually process things with. Or start by writing it down. I promise you, talking about it isn’t going to be the catastrophe you’re picturing. It’s not a tornado. It’s usually just relief.

If someone asks how you are this week, try answering honestly. And if nobody asks, perhaps that’s your reminder to ask yourself instead.

Frequently Asked Questions

Here are some common questions about therapy and eating disorders that clients often ask.
What is quiet cracking?
Quiet cracking is a term I use for a kind of burnout that doesn’t look like burnout. The person is still turning up, still saying “fine,” still doing everything that’s expected of them, while underneath they’re quietly overwhelmed. It’s rarely one crisis. It’s the accumulation of a hundred small things nobody, including them, ever stopped to add up.
How is quiet cracking different from burnout or quiet quitting?
Classic burnout is usually pictured as visible: exhaustion, tears, an obvious collapse. Quiet quitting is about someone pulling back, doing less. Quiet cracking is neither of those. The person keeps performing fully, sometimes even excelling, while struggling in a way nobody around them can see. That’s what makes it so easy to miss.
What are the physical signs of quiet cracking?
In periods of prolonged stress, I often see recurring physical symptoms: tension headaches, muscle pain, frequent illness or digestive problems. Stress doesn’t cause every physical symptom, but the mind and body are closely connected, so it’s worth paying attention to what your body might be telling you. For years, mine was laryngitis, because I was pushing feelings down instead of voicing them.
Can you have quiet cracking and still function well at work or home?
Yes, and that’s the defining feature of it. You can still be doing the school run, hitting the deadline, holding the family together over dinner, and still be quietly cracking underneath. From the outside nothing looks wrong. That’s exactly the problem.
Does quiet cracking show up differently in eating disorders or neurodivergent clients?
I see it especially clearly in people living with eating disorders, who may still be going to work, caring for others and achieving academically or socially, while fighting an exhausting battle nobody else sees. I notice it just as often in neurodivergent clients who’ve spent years masking, using enormous amounts of energy simply to get through an ordinary day looking capable.
How do I know if I need to speak to a counsellor about burnout?
If any of this sounds familiar, that’s usually reason enough to reach out, you don’t need to wait for a crisis. Start by being honest with yourself about what you’re actually saying when you talk about your own life, not what you think you’re supposed to say. Sometimes it helps to have someone else take the helicopter view and help you piece it together.

Reach Out for Support

Take the first step towards healing by connecting with a compassionate therapist who truly understands. Whether you’re seeking guidance for yourself or a loved one, I’m here to help you navigate your journey with empathy and expertise. Don’t wait to start your path to recovery—contact me today.
Get in Touch

Becky Stone, Eating Disorder Specialist

Becky Stone

07510 495791
beckywhocares1@outlook.com
Becky Stone is a dedicated therapist with a deep commitment to supporting individuals through their recovery journey. With qualifications in eating disorder counselling and personal experience, Becky offers a unique blend of professional insight and empathy. Her approach is tailored to each client’s needs, fostering a safe and non-judgmental space for healing.
Get in Touch
Becky Stone, trauma-informed eating disorder therapist in Canterbury, offering compassionate neurodivergent-affirming counselling for adults and young people online and in person.

Connect with Us