thoughts on being overcautious

I'm back. I have something very important to share. Here it is!

Nobody wants to have bad things happen to them, especially if those bad things involve harm to their body.

Which you know, of course. That's obvious. But there are related implications that I find very reassuring and that really didn't occur to me for years. Once I realized what this truly meant, it became much easier to calm myself down in a variety of triggering situations.

You want to avoid catastrophes, and so does everyone else. So does our society in general. This is why so much of our world is designed to be easy to use for, let's say, those who don't have a lot of common sense or don't think things through. This is why you'll encounter warnings like don't drink this chemical, don't let your child play with this plastic bag, don't stop the chainsaw with your hands, etc.

Not only do we get these warning labels for almost any imaginable danger, we also have more common warnings drilled into our head by the people around us, pretty much from childhood. Don't go swimming during a storm. Don't get in a stranger's car. Everyone learns the general scenarios that could lead to danger, and, depending on their personality, respond with varying levels of caution.

Which brings me to you, unfortunate person with severe anxiety. I am guessing you're extra cautious when confronted with any of those scenarios or warning labels. I am guessing you also have a wide range of scenarios you have decided are dangerous all on your own, without anyone else telling you so (or agreeing with you) and are constantly doing your best to avoid those scenarios or take (most likely unnecessary) steps to make yourself safer.

But remember, nobody wants to have bad things happen to them. Especially if those bad things involve harm to their body. And with regards to whatever you fear, ask yourself: if there was an actual danger of this behavior or situation causing harm to my body, wouldn't I have heard about it before? Wouldn't I have heard or read something, somewhere, about it potentially causing harm?

If eating parts of the apple too close to the stem could cause me to get sick, wouldn't I have heard about that?

If this dental procedure I'm about to go through was likely to make me vomit, wouldn't I have been told that was a possibility?

If watery sour cream or watery yogurt was a sign that it was likely to be bad in some way and give me food poisoning, wouldn't that be one of those things that I was warned about all my life?

Those are just a few of my own personal examples.

I don't know how to stop these little worrying thoughts from popping into my head, as they still do, regularly. But I have found this line of thinking to be an effective countermeasure, a way that I'm often able to dismiss the worry.

If anything has a good chance of making you get sick, it's incredibly unlikely you wouldn't 1) already know about it or 2) be warned beforehand.

reduce anxiety, save the planet!

One of my new year’s resolutions was to be more environmentally friendly. It is kind of a three-part resolution actually, but it all ties together: 1) I am systematically working my way through my apartment, donating or throwing out objects I never use or don’t need (generating trash is not environmentally friendly, but this stuff I never touch is essentially trash anyway – just sitting in my home instead of at the dump); 2) I am buying less new stuff, making sure to only buy what I need, and to buy digital if at all possible – with the double positive result of less junk filling up the apartment (which helps me) and less consumerism (which helps the environment); 3) I am taking whatever other steps I can to reduce my impact on the environment. For example, I finally bought reusable tote bags for shopping, and I have been attempting to reduce the amount of junk mail I get by contacting the places sending the junk mail and asking them to stop (I’m not convinced I’m succeeding yet, but I’m new to the process).

All this has led to me realizing how many of my environmentally harmful habits are related to my anxiety issues:

• Excessive water usage. I am fanatical about avoiding or killing germs, so I take longer showers than I need to. They are probably around 20 minutes, and I’d like to get them below 10 minutes at least. Even worse, I wash my hands way more frequently than is necessary. I got out of bed about 3 hours ago and have already washed them 7 times, and it’s not like I was doing dirty manual labor, intensive messy cooking, or anything apart from my ordinary Sunday morning routine of eating, hanging out, online browsing, writing. I honestly didn’t even bother adding “wash hands less” to my list of mini-goals, because I don’t think I’m ready for that one yet. I already think a lot about ways I can rearrange what I’m doing to cut out one or two of the hand-washes, but beyond that I don’t see how I can stop washing them when I feel it’s absolutely needed – which, due to emetophobia, is unfortunately pretty often. It is my intention to tackle shorter showers though.
  
• Excessive paper towel usage. This is related to the water usage, because once I’ve washed my hands for the purpose of preparing/touching food I’m going to eat, it feels like the only way they remain perfectly clean is if I dry them with a disposable paper towel (as opposed to a reusable dish towel).
  
• Drinking bottled water. Tap water scares me, even though I know that makes no sense – especially because I will have it if I go out to a restaurant, but I’m never willing to drink it at home. There was a brief period of time (a few months, maybe) I tried using a water filter, the kind that attaches directly to the faucet, but then it broke. Other than that, it’s been bottled water for about a decade straight. Which is so horrible for the environment, and that one is definitely on my list to change this year. I think I’m going to try one of those water filter pitchers instead of the faucet type.
  
• Using disposable bowls and silverware. I loathe doing dishes because I never feel like I am getting the dishes clean enough which leads to spending a frustrating amount of soap, water, paper towels, and time on each one – I will spend at least five minutes agonizing over a bowl that might take someone else a minute to wash. Plus sponges disturb me as much as reusable dish towels. And I am extremely neurotic about my skin coming in contact with ‘food residue’. I don’t know for sure if this is related to emetophobia, but I feel like it must be. This ‘food residue’ anxiety also leads to more hand-washing, because even if a food I ate is not particularly messy/crumby, I can’t stand the thought that the food is still on my hands. If I ate a sandwich and I can smell bread on my fingers, that drives me crazy. I don’t think other people even notice this. Anyway, that is another of my goals for this year – get back to using real cookware.
  
• Wasting food. I’ve talked about this one before. I have serious food anxiety and if my food looks weird to me, my impulse is to toss it. This mostly applies to fruits and vegetables, because they don’t have one consistent way they “should” look (as opposed to pre-packaged food that will tend to look exactly the same every time you eat it), but it can apply to anything – if I open a container of sour cream, and it’s especially watery, that might freak me out enough to throw it away. And I don’t have consistent rules about what is unacceptable; it depends on the day, on my anxiety levels at that particular time. So how quickly I give up on a food and what I consider to be unsafe can vary. When it comes to three different apples with basically the same blemish, on one day I might think ‘okay, that’s fine, I know it’s still edible’; on another, I’ll think ‘I’ll cut that part off, but the rest will be fine’; on another day, I will feel like I can’t deal with it at all and throw it away. Another way I waste food is by taking food offered to me in public – at work gatherings, family picnics, etc. – that I know I am not going to eat, just so I don’t call attention to myself, and then throwing most or all of it away. I think I’ve already improved in both of these areas and want to continue to do so. I try to force myself whenever possible to eat the ‘weird-looking’ food, and nothing bad has happened to me. And there have been social occasions in the past year where I’ve simply refused food; yes, it’s awkward, but not the end of the world.
  
• Wasting resources in general. There are some things I just replace on a regular basis rather than clean, because they seem so gross and germy to me – like bathroom mats and toilet seat covers. I also have (germ-related) anxiety about buying used objects, whether online or in thrift stores or at garage sales, or even accepting something a friend is getting rid of and wants to know if we need. Since I’m trying to consume fewer resources, both of these will have to change. It’s better to keep using something that already exists in the world than contribute to creating more demand for brand new items.

I always find it really interesting to see all the links that can exist between anxiety and something that at first seems completely unrelated to it. Working on my anxiety – in particular, trying to cut down on irrational anxiety-related behaviors – will not only impact my personal happiness and ability to function, but could actually help the world. And vice versa – trying to help the world can (hopefully) force me to become more comfortable with situations that currently make me anxious. That’s awesome and extremely motivating – for both goals!

work trip

It’s been a while since I posted. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about posting. I finally went on that trip for work, and of course the plan was/is to talk about that – what went well and what didn’t. But it’s now been six weeks since it ended, and I wrote (literally) close to fifty pages in my journal about the experience, and I still feel like I don’t have a firm grasp on what I should or want to take away from the whole thing. The sort of “life lesson” – not that everything in life has to result in a life lesson, but this was so big that it feels like it should have changed me or my life in some fundamental way. Maybe that’s just a fantasy of the chronically anxious – “I did something terrifying and I handled it – aren’t I going to get anything out of it?!”

But nothing is really different, other than the fact that I’m not constantly thinking and worrying about this trip anymore. Which is strange in itself, because it took over my brain for so long. It was all-consuming. Almost every night before I fell asleep, I was going over some aspect of it in my head: imagining what I might say to people, what they might say to me, things I might have to do that I didn’t think I could do, what I’d wear, what I’d eat, how I’d get around, everyone I would have to see, how the flights might go, what the airports would be like, all the many ways things could go wrong. I probably should have attempted to stop obsessing, but it was so comforting, even something I looked forward to on some level. Now that I don’t need to do that anymore, it’s like there’s this giant void in my mind.

And I was prepared for that. I knew that when I no longer had this to dread and/or look forward to, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Part of me had been excited about it. It felt meaningful, to be forced by outside circumstances to live and interact with the world to an extreme. To an extent I could never force myself to. Now everything is simple again – calm and quiet, which is nice, but also dull. Time passing and normal routine and no Huge Event looming on the horizon to test my limits. I think if they had suddenly told us at the last minute to forget the whole thing, we weren’t going to do it anymore, I would have been miserable. Incredibly relieved, but also miserable.

In other words, I’m never satisfied. How can you be when you feel two completely opposite things at the same time? It reminds me (again) of what I’ve talked about here before, the connection between anxiety and excitement, between fear and the desire for what you fear. It does seem like the two frequently coexist in me.

I think if the trip had never existed, had never been proposed in the first place, I would be fine. I think I’m happier when my life is calm and quiet and dull. But with the alternative fresh in my mind, it’s very hard for me to let go of the fantasy of having a life that is non-stop excitement, intensity, and stimulation and becoming the type of person who can thrive in a life like that. I’m better off not thinking about it.

Anyway, now I’m home again, and I have all this restless energy left over, and I’ve been trying to direct it towards 1) being more productive at my job 2) writing and submitting poetry.

As for how the trip went, I would say pretty well, overall.

• The closer I got to the trip, the more I felt like the only way I could get through it was to be upfront with people about my anxiety and my limitations. Which I think is a very good idea in theory. Unfortunately, it got a little out of control to the point where I was probably revealing too much (and too quickly, since I was interacting with people who were essentially strangers). Which possibly means that a lot of people I work with now have a skewed idea about just how extreme my anxiety is. And it doesn’t matter that now my mind has settled down again and I’m behaving more normally, because that was their first impression of me, and it’s nearly impossible to correct a first impression.
• Other than that, I felt like the social interaction went better than I had expected. I’m not sure why I feel that way, because I avoided people and I was quiet and when I had to speak, I was almost always panicking that any second I would say something that would somehow ruin my entire life. But I didn’t say anything that ruined my entire life, and other people told me I was coming across as normal (because – see bullet point above – I wouldn’t stop talking about how socially awkward I was), so I’ll count it as a success.
• I had a hard time eating before or during work, which led to me feeling shaky and nauseous most of the time. In the evenings I would eat in my hotel room and feel a little better, then wake up the next morning feeling like shit again.
• Even with feeling sick so much of the time, I did not have any extreme panic attacks and only a couple minor (and short-lived) anxiety attacks.
• I slept better than I thought I would. I woke up early every morning because I was so paranoid that I would sleep through the two different alarms I had set. But it still worked out okay, because I was going to bed early too and didn’t have any trouble falling asleep.
• I was able to concentrate on training. That was one of my biggest worries, that I just wouldn’t be able to focus or retain any of the new information I was supposed to learn, so I was happy that wasn’t the case.
• I work with some incredibly nice people who (many times) went out of their way to make things easier for me. So I’m glad I was more honest about what I wanted/needed than I usually am. I just need more practice navigating the line between ‘self advocacy’ and ‘presenting my entire identity as Anxious Person.’
• There were no major issues with the actual traveling part. I still don’t like flying, especially taking off and landing. But by the time I was flying home I had gotten to the point where I almost felt at ease when we were actually up in the air. 12 flights in about four months, and I finally got a little bit desensitized.
• I’m alive? And still employed? And to my knowledge, I didn’t make anyone hate me. I’m pleased with that outcome.

improvement

The trip to Virginia was a complete success! I seriously can’t believe how well I handled it, especially with all the phobia “triggers” it included:

• Flying, which leads to worries about motion sickness (something I never have a problem with, but I always worry I will), other people getting motion sickness, and catching some illness from someone on the plane.
• Socializing frequently with people who may or may not be sick. I was only hanging out with my family, and they don’t know and/or understand and/or care about my phobia (we don’t really talk about anything emotional, so I am unsure who knows/understands what). So I could not rely on them to look out for me by warning me that they were sick or had been sick recently. It seemed like one of them might have a cold, so that was a little stressful, but nothing came of it. For all I know, it was allergies.
• Spending a lot of time in a hospital. I was mainly there to visit a relative who has cancer, so I was in the hospital with them for a few hours each day. I knew I couldn’t catch the diseases of the people around me, but I still felt “contaminated” by germs. Even hugging my sick relative felt unsafe, but I did it anyway. My parents tried to harass me into eating in the hospital cafeteria, but that was something I could not bring myself to do.
• Hanging out with my very young nephews, a one year old and a four year old. This probably stressed me out even more than the hospital. They were all over me, and the one year old even put his hand right on my lips as soon as I walked in the door. Plus they unpredictably cough on you, and every time they eat, I can’t stop thinking about how they don’t know the limits of what they can consume without being ill. On the other hand, they are so adorable and sweet, and I really had a great time with them. I hadn’t met the one year old yet, and I hadn’t seen the four year old since he was a baby, so he didn’t remember me and was excited to “meet” me and show me all his books.
• Spending long stretches of time away from my wife and my “safe space” (usually home, but in this case the hotel room). I would leave in the mornings and hang out with my family most of the day, not getting back to the hotel until the evening. I don’t spend that much time out in public by myself anymore (since I started working from home). Usually when I’m out somewhere for a whole day, my wife is with me.
• Eating while on vacation. This didn’t go quite as well as it did in New York City, because I avoided eating while around my family. But during the times it was just me and my wife, I was completely fine and able to eat normally. We bought a few safe snacks from a grocery store to keep in the hotel room just in case, but we didn’t even eat most of them. We mostly went out, and I got to have all the delicious food I have missed from my hometown that I hadn’t had in SIX YEARS, because when we went down there in 2011 I could barely eat anything.

I didn’t have any panic attacks or intense episodes of feeling “sick”. No feeling dizzy or crappy because I couldn’t eat. No having to cancel plans because of that. No inability to sleep. And not that much holding back from what I wanted/needed to do. I’m so glad that I went and was able to offer some support to my sick relative and the rest of my family.

Compare this to the way the trip went in 2011 (see post here), and I’m amazed at how much has changed in four years. And I wasn’t even aware of it! It’s so weird to have actual strong evidence that all the work I’ve put into getting better has actually gotten me somewhere. I have often felt like I’m not doing enough, but it has helped so much anyway. I think it helped just to make the commitment to learn to think a different way, because now, even when I lapse into old negative thought patterns, there is that sense that I am doing something wrong which leads to the motivation to get back on track.

It also helps that I take better care of myself physically now, specifically when it comes to eating habits. Trying to eat healthier, plus forcing myself as much as possible to eat regularly, on a normal schedule, has cut down on instances of feeling “sick” so much, and that of course means I don’t get anxious as frequently. Seriously. My stomach used to hurt all the time from going long periods of time without eating, and I just kept telling myself it was better and it was safer not to eat, that not eating had to lead to less stomach pain, or would ensure I was safe from getting sick even if I felt stomach pain. The reality is that it made me feel terrible, and then I wondered why I felt terrible all the time and experienced near constant anxiety because of it.

So I’m super pleased. If I can take trips without having some kind of meltdown, even when they are stressful or short or last-minute trips, that would be such an incredible improvement to my life. I want to be able to travel. My dream of eventually getting to Europe is seeming much more within my reach.

marriage, emetophobia style

The other day I woke up to this note on our dry erase board:

"FYI - there's a baggie of carrots for you in the fridge, ready to eat. I removed any w/ spots or that were 'funny looking.' I love you!! <3"

I seriously have the best wife ever. I am so lucky to have someone who understands this phobia so well and is willing to offer constant support.
 

shmexpired

I accidentally ate expired applesauce today, which I find especially hilarious considering the topic of my last post.

It was one of those little plastic cups, and I had only eaten about half of that when I noticed the old date. So it was basically two or three spoonfuls. But I went into a panic anyway, and I didn't handle it well at all. I was too fixated on the knowledge that an actual thing had happened to trigger this panic. That usually isn't the case. And it made me give way too much weight to it.

I kept thinking about how if something bad was going to happen because of this, there was nothing I could do about it now. I swallowed the food and it was gone, and I couldn't reach in and get it out again. That's a very obvious statement, but I was thinking "why? how is it possible that there isn't some way to take it back?" and it seemed bizarre and unfair that food would just disappear into me like I was a black hole but still be able to have whatever effect it was going to have on me.

I did some unhelpful googling (the people who post asking if it's okay that they just ate expired food never actually return to say what ended up happening) until I could get in touch with my wife at work. She gave me a long speech about how it was completely fine. I started crying from relief, which then turned into frustrated crying because seriously? I can't believe something so silly and small will be so disruptive to my day. This phobia makes me feel like an idiot. Or a child. In fact, I remember as a child freaking out on my family or baby-sitters and asking them to reassure me about food anxiety. And it's still happening.

I feel like I should know these things by now. I should have a better understanding of food in general. I think I have never bothered to learn the truth (or common sense) when it comes to some topics, food safety being one of them, because long ago I came to my own irrational conclusions and invented my own rules to keep myself safe. And these conclusions/rules aren't like normal facts that can change when confronted with contradictory evidence. If I didn't keep reminding myself, I feel pretty certain I would forget this ever happened within a couple years and it could happen again exactly the same as it did today. Because my mind wants to shove this out and go back to the simpler more ingrained rule of "any food past its expiration date will make you sick."

Not true, not true, not true. Must remember this.  

examining food

I've been sick this whole month. I got some horrible cold or maybe even a (non-stomach) flu, I'm not sure. For the first two-ish weeks, I was utterly miserable. Now I just have a few mild symptoms left, but even they are annoying me to probably an irrational level. I'm just tired of this illness dragging on. I guess my immune system is not what it used to be, since 1) I'm getting older 2) I hardly ever get sick because I stay inside all the time - I think the last time was early 2012 and 3) I still haven't cemented the habits of eating healthy or exercising enough. I'm going to have to try harder, and the thought of that makes me want to groan the mother of all groans.

I basically don't do anything good for my body but then have these high expectations I hold it to, that it can't be sick or in pain or feel heavy or unpleasant in any way. I don't like my body or particularly want to be in touch with it, even though it would help me so much to be more in touch with it and break down some of that dislike.

Due to the lack of positivity I've got going on right now, I've been putting off writing here. But there. I'm done with my sickness-complaining. Moving on. To something I've been thinking about that is one of the main reasons I have such trouble with healthy eating.

I seem to constantly be finding flaws with my food. I suppose I can't say it's a bad habit to look at your food before you eat it. Because yes, there could actually be something wrong with it. That just makes sense to check it out first, make sure it looks okay.

But it probably should be a quick glance-over, and my technique is more in-depth extreme fearful scrutiny. No surprise that I usually end up finding something wrong, some detail that leads me to think maybe I shouldn't eat this thing. These frozen waffles don't feel frozen enough (I also decide they're too frozen sometimes). This soup can has weird residue in the crevices of the top. These hamburger buns have too much white on the bottoms - which yes, I know is flour and I will still pick it off just in case it's dangerous in some way. These pudding cups have a tiny bit of glue on the packaging (tiny bits of glue frequently prevent me from buying something). One corner of this box of cereal is a bit crumpled. This container of hummus has too much condensation on the inside of the lid.

I mean, there are a million examples, and for almost every single one of them, I logically know it's fine, but I either won't buy the food or won't eat it. Sometimes when I am preparing something to eat, I will get frustrated to the point of wanting to cry because I will find five or six different things "wrong" with it and have to keep making the decision to proceed, and it starts to feel exhausting.

And of course it's ten times worse when it comes to fruits/vegetables, because they will not look the same every time you eat them. I still expect them to, because I so desperately want them to. I want to be able to look at a fruit or vegetable and know yes, that is exactly the way it's supposed to look. This is a possibility when you're dealing with super processed homogeneous junk food, but it will pretty much never be the case for healthy food.

I buy a lot of raw fruits/vegetables. Every week. And every week I probably end up eating a third or less of what I bought. I ask my wife to pick everything out for me at the store, because I know if I looked at them, I wouldn't think any of them looked edible. But this doesn't really help, because later at home, when I go to eat one, I get to inspect it for myself. Almost every time, I get scared and end up throwing it away. Apples, peaches, nectarines, grapes, etc. will have spots/dents or soft spots or discolorations or be oddly shaped or the first bite won't taste the way I remember it tasting last time. Carrots will have parts that are slightly green or gray or black. Bananas will have black spots. Clementines will have some green on the peels. Berries will be a little smushed and wet because of that. Etc.

Every single one of these examples is, again, something perfectly normal and not indicative of danger. I know that, but part of me is still terrified that if I stop being overly cautious, one of these "strange" fruits/vegetables will make me sick.

So I don't know what to do about this. I think I'm just going to have to suck it up and start eating them anyway to prove to myself nothing bad will happen. I have done this occasionally already, and then I will worry for a few hours, and nothing will come of it. But that doesn't seem to result in less fear next time.

Maybe it would help if I kept an actual log of these instances, so I could refer back to it and see that on such and such date, I ate a clementine with some green on its peel, and all was well. It would also be a good reminder of various "flaws" I might run into, because I will stop eating a certain fruit for a while and then buy it again and tell my wife something like "this clementine is green. I have NEVER seen this before" and she will laugh at me.

Anxiety amnesia confuses me.

mastering restaurants and other things

It's been way too long since I posted here. Last month I was working on another writing project and this month I've been preoccupied with Christmas, trying to think of what to get everyone. Other than that, not much has been happening.

I can only think of two emetophobia-related incidents that happened recently. One good, one not so good.

The not so good one was a couple nights ago when I went out to eat with my wife. I've got to say, I think I've generally been doing really well with eating out at restaurants. I finally figured out how to deal with the situation, because two things happen to me when I eat at a restaurant. One is that I switch over to my "restaurant stomach" or in other words, my stomach appears to shrink in size. I know it must not actually be shrinking, but because of anxiety, I can never eat the amount in a restaurant that I could eat at home. But I always used to anyway. Out of habit, I would eat the same amount of food I typically eat at a meal, and then end up feeling awful. Now I have caught on to this and am forcing myself to eat way less. It usually means I don't even come close to finishing my meal, but oh well. Then I have tasty leftovers to eat later at home when I have my normal stomach back.

The other thing that happens because of anxiety: my throat becomes tight, feels more closed up, and this is mainly where I am still running into problems. I don't tend to notice this sensation in my throat, because it's very subtle, and it's a symptom I'm not that anxious about. But then sometimes when I swallow a bite of food, it feels stuck or like it's going down the wrong way or like I'm choking. That combined with the worries in the back of my mind about throwing up leads to a giant spike of panic. Which is what happened the other night. I'm talking to my wife, everything is good, and then suddenly I get this terrified look on my face as I panic that I'm choking or am going to throw up. The panic was over within a few seconds (aside from my heart continuing to pound for a while) and then I just felt silly and embarrassed. I'm pretty sure no one but my wife saw that look on my face, but the fact that I could not control it made me think about how awful it would have been if someone else had seen it. And made me flash back to all the many, many embarrassing incidents in my past where someone else did see a look like that on my face, including people who had no clue what was happening to me.

I guess I just need to keep this in mind when I go out to eat. Chew more, be conscious of swallowing and such. Sometimes I wonder if it's a good idea to work around these sensations because it feels like I am working with my anxiety instead of against it. But I don't seem to have much of a choice. I regularly go out to eat and that anxiety (so far) is not going away. The level of anxiety varies, of course, based on a million factors from my mood to the weather to whether I watched a movie/show earlier that day that showed someone vomiting. But there is always some level there, so if I want to be able to go out to eat at all, I need to adjust to these two symptoms. And like I said before, I think my adjustments are working out and making it so I can actually enjoy going out to eat, and that's nice. Not something I'm used to being able to enjoy, ever. Even with the brief panic the other night, I feel like the meal was a success.

Now for the good emetophobia-related incident. A friend came to stay with us at the end of November. He visits us pretty frequently, and over the last few years, I have been having a difficult time with these visits. Just like with going to restaurants, having someone stay with us makes my base level anxiety go up, and what tends to happen is I start getting a lot of stomach aches, almost constant stomach aches, especially if we go out anywhere. And when your friend comes to stay with you, they don't want to just sit around your house the entire time. And to make things even worse, I find it almost impossible to hide the fact that I feel sick and miserable or to keep quiet about it. So this friend has had to hear about how I don't feel well a ridiculous amount of the time, and it's a wonder he still comes to visit.

I'm sure you know where this is going. This last visit was practically PERFECT. It was the best time I've had hanging out with him in so long. I can't even say for sure why it went so well. Probably because I expected it to. I was feeling really great physically before he showed up, and I just felt confident that I would continue to feel great, that I could keep up the momentum of feeling good, if that makes sense. I was determined to. I've been feeling very guilty about what a terrible friend / hostess I've been.

As soon as he arrived, we went out to eat, and I ate more than I think I have in several years while at a restaurant with someone other than my wife. After that, we went somewhere else before going back home, which would normally make me very anxious (I always want to go straight home to digest and recover from the experience), and I was fine. We also went to see the movie Catching Fire (second in the Hunger Games series), and it was opening weekend, which meant the theater was completely packed. I was sure I would end up panicking at least a little during the movie, but nope, didn't happen, and I even had some popcorn. Also, he takes a bus when he comes to visit, and the bus station where we pick him up is a long drive from our house, about two hours one-way. I got through all eight hours of driving without any high anxiety periods (seriously, a miracle)!

It was like I was a normal person for a whole weekend. He's coming to visit again in about two weeks, and I'm excited. Because now I know it's possible, that I'm capable of handling it without any problems. Maybe it won't be absolutely perfect again, but I'm at least positive that I won't be the complete downer I've grown so accustomed to being.  

warped tour!

Last weekend I went to the Warped Tour music festival for the first time ever. It's a pretty intense event and I imagine it'd be intimidating for anyone with anxiety issues. With my blend of emetophobia and social anxiety, I considered it a major accomplishment that I even made it inside the festival. Before it opens, a line forms outside that is not really a line at all, but more a gigantic chaotic blob of people moving every which way. It was the biggest crowd I'd been part of in a long time. I was lucky to have two feet of personal space in any direction. As it got closer to the opening time, it was more like half a foot as everyone started pushing forward and compressing.

Also during this wait, lesser-known bands were walking through the crowd asking people in line to listen to their music and buy their CD/mp3. Which meant having to talk to people I didn't know and use headphones that tons of other people had been wearing before me. 

Aside from the stress of interacting with the people, it was insanely hot, which was my main worry emetophobia-wise. I was very concerned that the heat would make me sick. I rarely spend that much time in the sun, and it was 80-90 degrees. I only had one bottle of water that I was trying to conserve while waiting in the line, but then the event workers made me pour it out on the way inside (only one water bottle is allowed, but it must be sealed if you want to take it in). Basically, they want you to buy the drinks and food they are selling inside that is mega-expensive. But at least their drinks are packed in ice, so I was happy when I bought my new water bottle. I could hold it against my neck and get some relief from the heat.

Even though there was a lot more space inside the festival, it was still super crowded with people everywhere. Bands were playing all over the place, so loudly that I could feel the beat in my stomach, which made me worry for a moment that this would cause me to feel sick or panic. But with all this going on, I managed to keep it together and felt really calm the entire time I was there.

I only stayed about two or three hours, because it was just too hot and after a while I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore. I was all sweaty and sunburned (I wore sunscreen but didn't put enough on my face/neck) and started to feel dizzy, probably from hunger and dehydration. They don't let you leave and then come back, so I knew that if I stayed for most of the event, I would have to eat and drink while there. But still I let the habits of my anxiety take over and avoided anything but water, partially because I was afraid of getting or feeling sick and partially because I didn't want to use the public restrooms that were constantly packed with people. I'm sure this contributed to the dizziness/exhaustion I felt after a while that prompted me to leave much sooner than I would have wanted.

Still, I'm thrilled that I went and was able to have a good time for the most part. I can hardly believe how chill I was, especially considering how nervous I had been in the hours, days, weeks before I went. I had been obsessing about this for so long and feeling like I probably couldn't handle it at all.

But as I said in my post last month, I am trying to say yes to whatever comes along and to try things, even if I think they won't go well. There were many times I desperately wanted to back out of going. I was able to get through this because I kept saying to myself "maybe I won't be able to handle the whole event, but I can at least do this next small step." When I thought about calling it off in the days before I left, I told myself there was no need to make that decision yet. When I thought about turning the car around and driving back home while heading to the event (which was about three hours away), I told myself I would at least make the drive, and I could always turn around once I got there. When I thought about walking away when I saw that giant crowd of people standing in line, fanning themselves, I told myself I could at least try joining them and see how long I could deal with that. On and on, until I was inside actually enjoying myself.

Plus, now that it's over and I have a clearer idea of what it's like, I imagine I'll be able to handle it even better if I go again next year. I will definitely make sure to eat and drink more so that I have more energy and can stay longer, enjoy more bands.

when in doubt, say yes

There hasn't been much change with my phobia lately. I still feel "sick" at least once a day, usually when I know I have to go somewhere soon or I'm already out somewhere. Or when it's early morning and I've woken up for some reason and want to get back to sleep.

For the most part, I don't feel a lot of anxiety, and I've also gotten way better at ignoring the fake sick feelings and moving on. But it feels like I've hit a plateau and can't get to the next level. I never want to do anything but sit around at home. I have to be talked into going anywhere. I'm even anxious at the thought of going on a walk around the neighborhood, because what if I start feeling ill and I'm several blocks away from home?

I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't new at all. I have been reluctant to leave the house almost my entire life. My friends in middle and high school usually had to talk me into going to the movies with them. I would always worry about it, especially if there were going to be people there who didn't know me that well and didn't know about my anxiety issues. What would they think if I started panicking? In other words, it's an ingrained habit to want to say no, one that may take a long time to change.

I guess I'm lucky in that I've always been aware that if I didn't keep forcing myself to do these things, day after day, year after year, it would quickly lead to very bad consequences (as in being unable to even walk out my front door). I've always told myself things like "you have to do this. You didn't do the last three things. Now do this one because none of them are ever going to be safe enough."

I do feel like I've gotten worse with regards to my tendency to want to be home. I lost the momentum I had in school, having a larger circle of friends, people who always wanted to hang out, events to go to, classes to attend. I started working from home, and now it sometimes feels like I don't even know how to be in public anymore.

But I also think I've gotten better in the past couple years at forcing myself to go out when the opportunity arises. It's definitely been my mantra this year - "when in doubt, say yes." If I'm unsure about doing something, if I'm thinking things like "I'm anxious about the idea of going to hang out with people" or "what if I get sick on this car ride?" or "what if this other bad thing happens?" then I take that as a clear sign that I have to go. That it would be bad for my mental health if I didn't. I don't want to let any of those thoughts dictate what I do, especially when it means I'm going to end up sitting at home watching TV some more. Even though I feel like that is what I'd rather do, and forcing myself to go somewhere else feels like self-punishment, I usually end up having a good time and am happy I went.

It's hard to work up the courage, and I've been forcing myself to think things like "so what if I go on this walk and end up getting sick three blocks away from home?" and trying to convince myself that I believe what I'm telling myself. I know I don't actually feel nonchalant about the possibility of that happening, but it works well enough for me to take the small risk of walking out the door. It works well enough for me to focus on the fact that I don't feel sick at that moment, and if I feel sick a few minutes later, after I've already left, oh well. I'll deal with those moments when I get to them.

It works for other situations too. Like sleeping. Sometimes I will be afraid to go to sleep because I don't feel well. It used to be that I would take that as a sign that I should stay up and wait until the "sick" feeling passed and I could be sure it was safe to sleep. Now I will go to bed anyway, and I tell myself that this doesn't necessarily mean I have to go to sleep. I'm not going to sleep, I'm just going to go lie in bed and see what happens. But once I'm lying in bed, in the dark, tired, I can't stop myself from drifting off even if I'm still half-worrying in the back of my mind.

And eating. I used to refuse to eat if I didn't feel well, even after I realized that lack of eating (low blood sugar) can also make you feel sick. Now I'm training myself to go get food when I don't feel well and haven't eaten in a while. It could be low blood sugar. Maybe not, but I'll eat at least a few bites of something and see what happens. Usually it starts to make me feel better and I eat the whole thing.

So basically, whatever my phobia is telling me I shouldn't do, I am doing. I think it's working out pretty well. I went on a weekend trip recently to a place that was a 3-hour drive away. I went to game night at a friend's house. I've been taking walks regularly. I've been saying yes to whatever comes up. I still wish I could get to the point where I actually wanted to say yes, but I may be far away from that point, and in the meantime, I'm happy to report that most of my yes-es are turning out to be fun enjoyable experiences.    

eating healthy

It seems to be a trend that people with emetophobia are not the healthiest eaters. Which is funny, since we spend so much time and effort trying to avoid getting sick and thinking about how we can stay healthy.

But really, it does make sense. If you are anxious about food and want to find the "safest" thing, the thing that will be least likely to impact your stomach or digestive system in any way, the thing that you feel is the least dirty, germy, or unusual - you usually won't go for fruits and vegetables. Those apples that you have to examine before buying and wash before eating are going to seem like the worse choice compared to some sterile standardized package of chips or crackers. Especially when you want something that won't make you feel anything in your stomach. Healthy foods tend to have fiber, which usually will make you feel something, even more so if you're not used to consuming it on a regular basis.

Of course, we all know it's best to eat those fruits and vegetables and that having a diet consisting almost entirely of bland carbs is a bad idea. We should feel our stomachs sometimes! We can't always have them be "turned off" and quiet like we want, or it's likely we will run into health issues later on.

I have always been such an unhealthy eater, and this has been a hard habit to change. Every single year I have made the new year's resolution to eat healthier, or eat more fruits/vegetables, or eat less junk food, or some other variation of that. And every year I would make it about a month before giving up on my resolution.

Until this year when I have actually stuck with my resolution so far, and it has been over four months! A major accomplishment for me, so I thought I'd share how I accomplished it in case it was helpful to anyone else who is having trouble in this area.

First of all, I aimed lower than I usually do. I always want to fix things all at once, immediately, but that really never works out. Most change has to happen slowly, with little steps. So I did not make the usual attempt to eat as healthy as I should be (in other words, to have several servings of fruits/vegetables every day). My goal for this year was to eat one serving of fruit/vegetables each day. Just one serving. And I have stuck with it so far. Which may not seem like much of an achievement, really, but it is the best I have ever done consistently. It is finally a sign of moving in the right direction.

Second, I tried to make the goal more fun by assigning a fruit/vegetable or group of fruits/vegetables to each month that I would focus on eating above all others. Right around the time I start to get sick of one, a new month starts and I am pepped up by the new fruit/vegetable of the month and feel dedicated to my goal again. I'm including my list below. I tried to arrange it based on what is best/freshest in my area around that time.

It's been working out really well, even if I don't eat the fruit/vegetable of the month that often. For example, last month, I didn't feel like cooking brussels sprouts most of the time, so I continued to eat bananas. But just the idea of the brussels sprouts being spot-lighted - the idea that I could try out different brussels sprouts recipes if I wanted to, figure out several different ways to make them delicious - kept me motivated.

• January - lettuce and salad mixes
• February - bananas
• March - brussels sprouts
• April - broccoli, peppers, and onions
• May - "mix it up" month (a chance to eat the fruits/vegetables that aren't represented in the rest of the list because they're not my favorites - carrots, cauliflower, grapes, oranges)
• June - plums, squash
• July - berries
• August - nectarines, peaches, and apricots
• September - tomatoes, avocadoes, and cucumbers
• October - apples
• November - spinach
• December - clementines