Alyson Stoner on Navigating Trauma and an Eating Disorder in the Hollywood Spotlight

The Shift from Human Being to Product

The most detrimental implicit shift, Stoner explains, was learning to see themselves as an object:

“I came to know my body, my mind and body as an object to fix or a project to complete, because I was the product.”

This realization, driven by constant demands for modification in auditions and performances, replaced listening to their basic human needs. The self became a tool—something to be molded, starved, or overworked to meet an external standard. This environment cultivated a deep lack of boundaries, where they were programmed to be “fully available and accessible to everyone at all times,” often overlooking their own health and well-being.

Recognizing the “Toddler to Train Wreck Pipeline”

Stoner coined the term “toddler to train wreck pipeline” to describe the repeating spiral of young high-performing individuals (in arts, sports, or academics) who experience an early peak and then undergo a public downward spiral involving mental health crises, exploitation, or addiction.

This pipeline, Stoner argues, is not due to personal failure, but to major systemic variables that are not addressed in the industry. It’s a preventable crisis. By analyzing media culture, industry protocols, and child labor laws, Stoner recognized that proactive intervention is possible. Their current work as a mental health coordinator for film productions addresses these very gaps, creating protocols to support the psychological safety of cast and crew.

Coping Strategies as Natural Responses to Extreme Circumstance

The struggles with disordered eating and over-exercising were not random but were “responses to really extreme and bizarre circumstances.” In an environment where control over life, safety, and identity was nonexistent, these behaviors provided a false sense of agency and control.

Stoner also highlights the high-octane nature of the work itself, which contributed to an addictive high pattern:

“I think that too, as a child, I didn’t realize what was happening, but I was developing that sort of addictive high pattern… So even when I wasn’t booking work anymore, or as regularly, I would find other things to do that would give me that same spike.”

Performing in front of thousands of people offers an adrenaline and dopamine rush that is followed by a natural dip, known as a post-tour depressive period. Without tools to understand or manage this cycle, the body seeks that high through other means. The eating disorder, therefore, became an unconscious attempt to keep it all together and suppress emotions that would have interfered with the job.

The Need for Proactive Mental Health Coordination

The lack of mental health support on sets was a significant factor in the toll taken on Stoner and their peers. At the time, creative spaces prioritized the story’s intensity over the human cost.

This problem extended beyond the child actor to every member of the production. This includes crew members setting up scenes that might trigger past trauma, editors working in dark rooms cutting intense material for long hours, and even the audience, whose constant consumption of intense, violent material leads to desensitization and dissociation. Stoner’s work as a mental health coordinator is now focused on ensuring ethical media creation for everyone involved, from the performers to the crew and the audience.

The Journey to Treatment: Repairing the “Instrument”

At 17, after realizing their disordered eating had taken control and following a significant audition, Stoner entered treatment. Initially, the goal was merely to “repair my instrument, and then get back out in the game”—a reflection of the product mentality.

However, treatment provided a radically different experience, including a steady, structured schedule, adults not on the payroll who were invested in their human development, and the space to ask: “What do you want for your life?” This environment allowed the deeper, years-long conditioning to begin to unravel.

The first day was incredibly difficult, marked by chemical and emotional withdrawal from the dependencies they had built. “It felt like my body was on fire,” Stoner recalls, a testament to how physically hard it is to quit a survival mechanism.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) as the First Step

In early recovery, the focus shifted to cognitive tools to manage the racing thoughts that drove the unhealthy behaviors. Stoner found immense utility in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), particularly the creation of trigger cards. This involved assessing triggers, naming old ways (the historical, non-serving response), and then establishing highly specific replacement strategies for that particular trigger. The consistent, moment-to-moment practice of “catching the thought as it happens, challenging the truth of it, and changing it in real time” was a critical early intervention.

Embracing Somatic Tools to Regulate the Nervous System

While CBT helped with the mind, the body needed a different approach. After leaving the structured environment of treatment and re-engaging with life’s stressors, Stoner shifted to somatic tools—practices that focus on the mind-body connection—to handle the inevitable discomfort.

Somatic work teaches a person how to feel discomfort without immediately needing to run away or fix it with a coping mechanism. This is a difficult pivot, especially when society often equates meditation with “emptying your mind,” which is nearly impossible for someone with an activated nervous system.

The Power of Titration and Patience in Healing

Working with a somatic psychotherapist, Stoner was introduced to the concept of titration—a technique for managing intense emotional experiences by working in small, manageable doses.

Imagine being in a pot of hot water. When the stress (“heat”) becomes too much and you start to “boil over,” titration involves using small techniques to dial down the heat to a manageable level before dipping back into the difficult work.

For Stoner, this meant a session might only involve noticing that their hand formed an angry fist when a difficult topic was raised. That’s it. The session’s goal was not a breakthrough but to feel and name the physical reaction without escalating. This slow, steady process acknowledges that the body will resist change if pushed too far, viewing it as unsafe.

Finding Your Path: The Diverse Faces of Recovery

Stoner emphasizes that there is no single path to healing. Recovery is not a one-size-fits-all process.

For some, it means walking away from the source of trauma forever. For others, it might mean doing the deep work to heal and then using that knowledge to become an advocate or an agent of change within the very system that caused the harm. The key is developing the wisdom and discernment to know what is best for your current stage of healing, and to avoid re-traumatizing yourself by rushing to turn pain into purpose.

The ability to pivot from a life of intense performance to one of thoughtful practice and advocacy has allowed Stoner to help the next generation avoid the pitfalls they experienced. By sharing their story, they offer both a mirror for those who recognize their own struggles and a window for others to understand the vital need for systemic change in high-pressure industries.