I kept a drawer full of them. Metamucil. Benefiber. Two different psyllium brands. A bag of inulin powder my sister swore by.
All bought with hope. All abandoned within two weeks.
Not because they didn't work, but because they worked too well on everything except the problem. The bloating would start within hours. Then the cramping. Then the three-day flare-up that left me cancelling plans, calling in sick, rearranging my entire week around my bathroom schedule.
I have IBS-C. I've had it for six years. And every gastroenterologist visit ended the same way: "You need more fiber." As if I hadn't tried. As if I hadn't spent hundreds of dollars and dozens of miserable evenings proving that fiber and my gut don't get along.