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Is It Anxiety or Something Else? How a Pinched Nerve Mimicked Anxiety and What I Learned About Body Awareness

  • Writer: Laura Nickson | Natural Living Advocate | Wellness Writer
    Laura Nickson | Natural Living Advocate | Wellness Writer
  • Jul 4
  • 10 min read

There was a time when I would’ve immediately labelled certain sensations as anxiety, a shallow breath, lightheadedness, or that familiar fluttery feeling near my diaphragm. For years, those symptoms were part of my journey with anxiety and panic, so it made sense to assume that’s what was happening again. But recently, something shifted.


I had a physical pain, a very clear, sharp pain, in my neck and shoulder area. Every time I breathed in, it hurt. At first, I thought it was nothing more than a pinched nerve, something I’ve experienced before. But as the day went on, I started to feel uneasy. My breath felt shallow, my chest unsettled, and a familiar anxious feeling crept in. Except this time, my mental health had been in a really good place. Nothing in my day had triggered it. So I paused and asked myself: What if this isn’t anxiety at all? What if it’s my body trying to get my attention?


That question changed everything.

Sometimes, what we think is emotional can actually have a physical root. And when we’re on a healing path, whether through functional medicine, mindset work, or simply getting to know ourselves better, it becomes clear how powerful and important it is to listen to our body with awareness and curiosity, rather than jumping to old assumptions.


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In this article, I want to share what this recent experience taught me about the fine line between anxiety and physical symptoms and how learning to tune into your body can help you make sense of what’s really going on.


The Unexpected Link Between a Pinched Nerve and Anxiety Symptoms


It started like something I’d dealt with before, a pinched nerve in the neck and shoulder area. I’ve had similar discomfort in the past, so when the sharp pain appeared as I breathed in, I didn’t panic. I thought, Here we go again, and assumed it would ease off in a few days like it usually does.


But this time, something felt different.


Not long after the pain began, I started noticing a strange, unsettled feeling in my chest. It wasn’t dramatic or overwhelming, but it was familiar, a sensation I used to associate with the early stages of anxiety or even a panic attack. It sat around the top of my diaphragm, near the solar plexus, and came with a slight tightness in my breath. It was that subtle “off” feeling, hard to explain but hard to ignore.


At first, I brushed it off. I assumed maybe I needed something to eat, it was lunchtime after all. But as the day went on, the feeling lingered. That evening, it returned with more clarity. It really did feel like the same kind of internal unease I’ve experienced in the past during anxious periods, yet mentally and emotionally, I felt fine. That’s when I paused and really started to reflect.


Now, having worked closely with a functional medicine doctor over the past year, I’ve become more in tune with my body and how food, environment, and subtle triggers can influence how I feel. So naturally, I looked at what I’d eaten. The night before, I’d made a batch of grain-free granola, a new recipe that included a couple of ingredients I hadn’t eaten in a long time. Because I’ve been slowly reintroducing foods after a period of elimination, I wondered whether it could be a reaction to one of those ingredients. So I cut it out, just in case.


But even after removing the granola, the symptoms remained. It was only after three days that things started to shift. The pain when breathing in eased first. Then, the unsettled chest sensation began to lift. By day four, both had pretty much gone. I tested the granola again, just a small portion and nothing returned. That’s when I started researching the connection between pinched nerves and internal sensations like shortness of breath or chest tightness. That’s when I came across the vagus nerve.


I’d heard of the vagus nerve before, but reading more deeply about its role, how it connects so many systems in the body, including breath, digestion, and even emotional regulation, made me wonder: Was the pinched nerve somehow irritating my vagus nerve and mimicking the symptoms of anxiety?


I can’t say for certain. But I trust how it felt. The timing was too aligned to ignore, and my gut tells me this wasn’t just “old anxiety” creeping back in. Something physical had shifted and my body, in its own way, was letting me know.


The Vagus Nerve: A Quick Dive into the Body’s Communication System


The more I read about the vagus nerve, the more it made sense. Often referred to as the “wandering nerve,” the vagus nerve is the longest cranial nerve in the body, running from the brainstem down through the face, throat, lungs, heart, digestive organs, and even into parts of the lower abdomen. It’s like a major motorway of information, constantly relaying signals between the body and brain.


What makes it particularly fascinating is its role in regulating the parasympathetic nervous system, the part responsible for “rest and digest.” It helps slow the heart rate, calm the breath, support digestion, and even modulate inflammation. When the vagus nerve is functioning well, we tend to feel calm, safe, and balanced. But when it’s irritated or underactive, whether from chronic stress, physical tension, or other factors, it can send the body into a dysregulated state that feels a lot like anxiety, panic, or digestive upset.


In my case, the nerve pain from the pinched area in my neck and shoulder may have been close enough to the path of the vagus nerve to trigger some of those symptoms. While the vagus nerve itself isn’t usually “pinched” in the way a spinal nerve might be, it can be stimulated or irritated indirectly, for example, through inflammation, structural imbalances, or tension in surrounding areas. This made me wonder if the discomfort in my neck had somehow set off a chain reaction that affected how I was breathing. At the time, it felt like I couldn’t quite get a full breath in, not in a panicked way, but more like something was physically restricting the depth of my breath.


What’s even more interesting and relevant for those of us on a natural healing journey, is that the vagus nerve is highly sensitive to internal stressors, not just external ones. Studies have shown that toxins, heavy metals, and chronic inflammation can impact vagus nerve function. In fact, exposure to things like mercury, lead, pesticides, and mold toxins has been linked to autonomic nervous system dysfunction, of which the vagus nerve is a major player. This means that people with high toxic loads, whether from the environment, diet, or even hidden infections, may experience symptoms such as:


  • Lightheadedness

  • Irregular heartbeat

  • Digestive issues

  • Anxiety-like feelings

  • Breathlessness or shallow breathing


So, it’s not just about what’s happening structurally in the body, it’s also about what’s happening internally. This is why functional medicine approaches, which look at the whole system, are so powerful. They take into account how everything is connected, including how toxicity, nutrient deficiencies, and gut health can either support or strain vagus nerve tone.


Another factor? Nervous system resilience. If your vagus nerve isn’t regularly activated through calming practices, such as deep breathing, cold exposure, singing, humming, or even gentle movement, it can become sluggish. And when it’s sluggish, the signals between the brain and body can get mixed up or muted, leaving us feeling “off” without knowing exactly why.


For me, that experience reminded me how delicate yet vital this communication system is. It’s not just about stress or emotions, it’s about posture, food, environment, toxins, and how well the nervous system is being supported overall.


Anxiety or Physical Symptom? Why Mislabeling Can Lead Us Astray


For many of us who’ve experienced anxiety in the past, it can become second nature to assume that any internal shift, a racing heart, a flutter in the chest, or breath that doesn’t feel quite full, must be emotional. That’s certainly been true for me at times. But through this recent experience, I was reminded how easy it is to mislabel physical symptoms as anxiety, especially when they feel eerily similar.


What I found strange was that mentally, I felt fine. There was no stress trigger, no overwhelming thoughts, no reason I could think of that would cause anxiety to bubble up. And yet, my body felt unsettled. That’s when I started asking a different question: What if this isn’t anxiety? What if something physical is creating a sensation that just feels like it?


This shift in thinking made a big difference and it’s something I believe more people need to hear. Sometimes, our bodies mimic anxiety in response to physical imbalances, not emotional ones. A few examples I’ve come across, and even experienced personally, include:


  • Blood sugar fluctuations that cause lightheadedness and shakiness


  • Food intolerances that lead to shallow breathing, racing heart, or chest tightness


  • Dehydration that causes dizziness or an anxious edge


  • Nutrient deficiencies, like magnesium or B vitamins, that affect nervous system regulation


  • Environmental toxins or poor air quality that trigger subtle respiratory distress or unease


And of course, in my case, the pinched nerve may have been the root cause, affecting my breathing and, possibly, stimulating the vagus nerve in a way that created that familiar, anxious sensation.


This isn’t to say that emotional triggers don’t matter, they absolutely do. But what I’m learning, especially through functional medicine and a deeper connection to my body, is that we can’t afford to overlook the physical side of what we feel. When we label everything as anxiety, we risk missing something important. We stop asking questions. We assume it's “just us”, when in fact, the body may be trying to send a very clear signal.


There’s something empowering about shifting from “What’s wrong with me?” to “What’s my body trying to tell me?


It creates space for curiosity instead of judgment. And in that space, healing becomes possible.


Why Body Awareness is a Superpower


One of the biggest shifts I’ve experienced on this journey, especially through working with a functional medicine doctor, is learning to tune into my body without fear. Not in an obsessive or over-analytical way, but with gentle curiosity. That subtle difference has helped me better understand myself and how my body responds to both internal and external factors.


In the past, I might have ignored a symptom or immediately assumed it was emotional. But now, I pause and ask: What changed? What have I eaten? How have I been sleeping? Could something physical be contributing to this feeling?

That kind of check-in isn’t about control, it’s about awareness and with awareness comes choice.


When we start noticing the nuances, like a change in breath, a heaviness in the chest, or even just a feeling that something is “off”, we can catch imbalances earlier, before they spiral into bigger issues. It also means we stop blaming ourselves for every dip in mood or wave of discomfort. Sometimes, it’s not mental. Sometimes, it’s physical and sometimes, it’s both but being able to separate the two is what gives us power.


Body awareness also gives us the confidence to trust ourselves. Instead of brushing things off or overriding them with distraction, we can pause and listen. This doesn’t mean we need to find an answer straight away, but even just acknowledging what we feel can be validating. Over time, it helps build a deeper, more respectful relationship with our own body.


I’ve learned that symptoms are rarely random. They’re often the body’s way of saying, “Hey, something needs attention.” Whether it’s a pinched nerve, a food reaction, tension we’ve held onto, or a cue to slow down, the body speaks and the more we listen, the more we learn.


A Gentle Reminder: You Know Your Body Best


If there’s one thing this experience reminded me, it’s that no one knows your body better than you. Not Google, not a friend, not even the most well-meaning health professional, they can all offer insight, but only you can truly sense what’s normal, what’s new, and what feels off.


It can be easy to second-guess ourselves, especially if we’ve struggled with anxiety or been told in the past that it’s “just stress” or “all in your head.” But tuning into your body is not overreacting. It’s not being dramatic. It’s being wise.


Of course, not every twinge or shift needs a full investigation and we don’t want to live in a constant state of analysis. But there’s a quiet strength in learning to pause and reflect before jumping to old conclusions. That small moment of awareness can make a big difference, especially when it helps you spot a pattern, remove a trigger, or avoid unnecessary worry.


When something feels different, trust that. Be curious, not fearful. Be open, not dismissive. Sometimes, the most empowering thing we can do is simply say, “Something doesn’t feel quite right, and I’m going to explore that.”


This kind of self-awareness isn’t about perfection or always having the answer, it’s about building a respectful, ongoing relationship with your body. One where symptoms aren’t enemies to battle or ignore, but signals to acknowledge and understand.


You are the expert of your own experience. And that’s something no test, diagnosis, or opinion can replace.


Final Reflection: What This Experience Taught Me


Looking back, I’m so grateful I didn’t automatically write the whole thing off as “just anxiety.” If I had, I might have missed the subtle connection between my pinched nerve, my breathing, and that unsettling chest sensation. Instead, I took a step back, listened, reflected, and gave my body the space to be heard.


This experience didn’t offer a black-and-white answer. I still can’t say with absolute certainty whether the vagus nerve was involved, or if there was a more straightforward physical trigger. But what I can say is that something changed and it changed in line with the discomfort I was feeling. That’s not something I’m willing to ignore anymore.


It reminded me how complex and interconnected our bodies truly are. How one small shift in the neck can ripple through the whole system. How old emotional patterns can be triggered by new physical sensations. And how, when we’ve done the inner work to feel more stable mentally, it becomes easier to recognise when something doesn’t quite match up.


It also reinforced the value of being present, of noticing patterns, staying open to multiple causes, and not rushing to label a feeling as one thing or another.


Most of all, it reminded me that healing isn’t just about fixing what’s wrong. It’s about building trust with your own body, learning to notice, to respond with care, and to honour what you feel, even if it doesn’t fully make sense in the moment.



 
 
 

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