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.

emetophobia and high school

I hate having emetophobia, obviously. It impacts every area of my life and generally makes everything a little more difficult. But I’ve been thinking lately about what it was like to have this phobia during high school, and I have to say that was probably one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever faced – getting through every single day of those four years while having to deal with this fear. I’m so glad to have that behind me and have the utmost respect for anyone still in that situation, because it is incredibly difficult.

You are pretty much trapped in one building for the entire day, going straight from one class to another. You have all the usual stress of schoolwork, interacting with your classmates (some of them nice, some of them psychotic), interacting with teachers and counselors and administrators and security guards and bus drivers (some of them nice, some of them psychotic), and then when you add anxiety issues and panic attacks to all of that, things start to get incredibly messed up.

I definitely made the situation worse, because I didn’t take care of myself physically in any way. I thought it was fine to get four to six hours of sleep a night. I usually skipped breakfast and sometimes lunch too. Many days I just ate one giant meal after I got home from school and that was it. Plus my diet consisted mostly of things like frozen pizza and soda (yes, tons and tons of caffeine), which I guess is pretty normal for adolescents, but definitely not healthy. I wasn’t even really aware at the time of how unhealthy all this was, but I’m certain it’s the reason I had horrible stomach aches so frequently.

I’ve been remembering some of the ways I used to cope with these stomach aches and the anxiety that came along with them. For the most part, my coping skills back then were pretty unhealthy and I would not recommend them, but I’m going to list everything.

***
1) Probably my main coping mechanism was to dig my nails into my skin (usually the backs of my thumbs or other fingers) as a distraction from my stomach hurting. Not the worst form of self-harm, but it did sometimes leave marks that were embarrassing.

2) I skipped school a lot more than I should have because of feeling “sick” when I woke up in the morning.

3) Along the same lines, I went to the nurse’s office an abnormal amount of times and sometimes went home early from school. This fluctuated. I went through periods where I was in the nurse’s office almost every day, and other times it would be more like once a month.

4) I guess you could say skipping breakfast/lunch was a coping skill I used, although a really bad and counterproductive one. I was even afraid to drink anything at times and would end up dehydrating myself.

5) I would leave class to go to the bathroom just to calm myself down. Getting myself out of the classroom where I felt trapped would usually make me feel a lot better, and then I could convince myself that whatever was happening was mostly in my head. But obviously I could only do this one time per class, so I had to try to save it for when I really needed it. Sometimes I would break down early and then regret it later in the class.

6) In my notes for class, I would draw lines, each one representing a minute, for however many minutes were left in the class. I would watch the clock and keep telling myself “I can get through this next minute. I can get through this next minute” and then scribble through each minute line as the minutes passed.

7) I had a bunch of questions I asked myself to try to determine if I was actually ill, like "if I was home right now, would I still be feeling this way?"

8) I heavily relied on my friends. I was open with almost all of them about my phobia. Most of them understood, even if some didn’t grasp the full extent of the problem. My closest friends knew almost everything about it and were an amazing support system. It was so great to be able to talk to them and have them reassure me. They had mental health issues of their own, and we actually had a simple hand code to communicate with each other about how we were feeling (for when we were around a lot of other people, or when we were in class but sitting across the room from each other). Holding up a hand meant “are you okay?” or “what’s going on?” Then two fingers meant the person was sad, three fingers meant the person was fine, four fingers meant the person was anxious. One finger was the response that only I used. It meant “I feel sick” and everything implied along with that.

After a while we started using these numbers in our notes/emails and when speaking to each other too. I can remember many times answering the question “what’s wrong?” with “I feel one” or “oneness.” Even though “oneness” is basically a philosophy of unity/harmony to everyone else in the world, it will always make me think of feeling anxiety-related sickness.

Anyway, having that code and knowing that I usually had someone around who would understand how I was feeling was a big comfort to me.

***

I would say numbers 5-8 are the only good responses, and #5 is iffy since it’s better to wait out your anxiety than flee the situation you’re in.

I so wish I had been aware of all the anxiety-reducing techniques I know now during those years. I know just making the changes to my diet and sleep schedule would have had such a huge impact on how I felt, and using affirmations, mindfulness, and breathing techniques would have helped with the rest.

But I would recommend telling friends if at all possible. Unless your friends are jerks and you know they would only use the information to make fun of you or torment you (in which case it might be a good idea to get some new friends), having them know takes so much pressure off. Before I started telling people, it felt like this huge weight/burden and this shameful secret I had to keep, and that tended to make the anxiety attacks even worse, feeling like I was not just trapped in the situation and in the feeling of anxiety but also trapped inside my mind, alone, with the secret of what was happening to me.

I still find that in any situation where I feel anxious, if I can say it out loud to the person I’m with, it helps diffuse a lot of the anxiety. And most people are understanding about it, many more than I would have imagined back when I tried to hide it.

In general, I was embarrassed by the way I acted a lot of the time in high school. I’m still embarrassed thinking back on some of these things. So I just want to say that if anyone reading this is in high school and feels this way, cut yourself some slack. Emetophobia and high school don’t mix well. You’re basically a superhero for every day you deal with both. Whatever you can do to get through it (aside from hurting yourself/others), it won’t be that big a deal in the long run. And college (where you have a little more freedom to design your schedule and can include breaks between your classes) is not nearly as terrible.

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.    

regressing

The person I was going to meet for dinner cancelled, as they ended up not having enough time during their vacation to make the long drive over to my area. I can't say I wasn't partially relieved. I had been stressing about it every day. But at the same time, it would have been nice to prove to myself that I could get through a situation like that.

Then last weekend a friend came to visit and stayed with us. I had so much fun hanging out with him, but my anxiety spiked. Which was both surprising (because I'm close to and comfortable with this friend) and annoying.

We went on nature walks, and because it was hot, I worried I would get heat stroke and throw up. Or I worried I was overexerting myself, and that would make me sick. We went out to eat twice. The first time (breakfast) was absolutely fine, but the second time (dinner) I wasn't hungry, probably due to anxiety, and I was anxious that this meant I was getting sick and would throw up. We did a bunch of other things too. By the end of the day I was exhausted - it was more activity than I am used to - and then I worried I was sick because I felt tired! I had to repeat affirmations in my head in order to fall asleep and then woke up in a half-asleep panic at around 2 in the morning, feeling "sick" and trying to figure out where I could go to be sick in private, if it was going to happen.

I hardly ever wake up feeling like this anymore.

I feel like I've hit some kind of wall. I don't experience much anxiety anymore, but I guess it's only because I feel safe, because I'm only hanging out on a "narrow strip" of my room, as Rilke would say. I don't expect these (pretty minor) challenges to throw me so much, because I'm feeling so great most of the time. I really need to find more things to do around here that put me in situations where I am uncomfortable. I hate to think this is as good as it gets. I want to be able to go into any situation without returning to the mess I used to be.

irrationality, exhibit A

This morning while I was still sleeping (about twenty minutes before my alarm was set to go off), one of the neighbor's kids started coughing right outside the window, and it woke me up. I wasn't alarmed at first, but it kept going on and then started sounding more like choking and gagging. I pulled the covers up over my head, covered my ears, and started humming really loud. I could still sort of hear it in the background, so I hummed until I wasn't catching snatches of it anymore. I have no idea if anything even happened or if the kid just coughed for a while, but I've still had about a thousand worries today related to this 15-20 second event, starting with the ridiculous idea that the germs might come through the wall or window. Almost every real or far-fetched way illness could reach me is running through my mind. I've been doing so well this winter, not obsessing over contamination, and I'm finding it really annoying. I guess I always hope the thoughts are gone, but really it more seems like they just settle down temporarily. Like the thoughts are leaves and anxiety is a wind. The wind's picked up again, so the leaves are flying around all over the place. It's such a pain. Even if the kid did actually get sick, I know I have no more reason to think and worry about this than I do on any other day, days when other kids in other places might be getting sick without me there to see or hear it. It's just been a while since any of my senses have been exposed to it. If it even happened!

And the tune I hummed to myself was pitiful. In my fear, I couldn't think of one specific song to commit to, so what I came up with barely qualified as musical at all. It got me thinking about how maybe I should pick a song now to use if this ever happens again, which then got me thinking about the movie My Girl. Remember Vada and her "do wah diddy" meltdowns? Maybe I'll just steal hers, it's a pretty good one.

Joking, by the way. Believing I'll be able to handle the next situation is probably a better idea than picking a "panic song."

affirmations

Affirmations really work. They help so much in reducing anxiety. For anyone who has tried them without seeing any improvement, I'd say chances are you only need to give it more time. It took months for me. I'm not sure how many months exactly, but it was at least half a year before I noticed them having even the slightest effect, which felt like an eternity given how high my anxiety was during that entire time period.

I could not sleep through the night. I would wake up at some point every night feeling "sick" and have to get out of bed. Sometimes I would watch TV or do word searches, but I also had a little notebook where I would write affirmations. At first, I found them pretty useless as just thoughts in my head or even words spoken out loud. I needed to see them written, and I would write them ten times in a row, pausing each time to really think about the message and let it sink in. Even before they actually began to resonate with me, writing them out was a calming, repetitive, hope-filled activity that would make me feel a little better and help me get back to bed.

After a while, I started keeping four of the most calming ones right next to my bed. My initial goal was to stay in bed, even if I did wake up feeling "sick" and anxious, and having those affirmations right there to look at sometimes allowed me to do this (rarely at first, but more and more as time went on).

I also now have a set I carry with me in my purse, affirmations written out on index cards. I pulled them out pretty frequently on our long road trip and during the high anxiety times in the hotel.

When I first started using them, I worried it was just a form of brainwashing, but it's pretty much the exact opposite. I already am brainwashed with anxiety, and these are correcting that. When you come up with your own affirmations, or if you are choosing them out of a book, you just have to make sure that logically you can see the truth in them, even if they don't feel true (it helps if you create/choose them at a time when you are not extremely anxious).

Probably my go-to affirmation for times when I feel "sick" is: "This feeling isn't dangerous - it will pass." It is true whether you are sick or not. Of course, I always try to tell myself I'm not, and that the "feeling" I'm referring to is anxiety. Since I started using the affirmation a little over a year ago, I have been right about that 100% of the time. That just proves to me even more that it is undeniably the thought my mind should be having when I don't feel well.   

vacation update

I'm still on vacation. I have had Internet access but up until now have been either too busy or too overwhelmed to even think about what to write here. I'd love to make this entry have a coherent message, but I'm guessing it's going to be more of a blow-by-blow recounting of events. I haven't gotten the best sleep this week.

The first two days were the traveling days. We drove for six or seven hours each day. We got lost twice, once around NYC, once around Philadelphia. I managed my anxiety pretty well while in the car, except for the fact that I hardly ate or drank, because I felt "nauseous" a lot of the time. It was the first nights in the two different hotels that really threw me. It took hours of reassurance from my wife (that I wasn't going to throw up, go crazy, die, or always be this way) before I felt okay enough to get any sleep.

As is usually the case, two days of bad sleep and inadequate eating/drinking led to me feeling horrible. When I woke up Tuesday morning, I felt slightly less anxious but couldn't get up and walk around without feeling nauseous and dizzy. I decided I needed to cancel all my plans for that day and just spent the day in the hotel room forcing myself to eat and drink as much as possible. It was upsetting / frustrating, but necessary. Sometimes the hardest thing about all this is having to accept that I can't do whatever I want whenever I want. I get jealous of other people who can keep pushing themselves without taking a break, who could have packed a million activities and social interactions into a vacation this long. Sometimes I have to work within my limits, and for now, sometimes that includes missing out on things I was really looking forward to. But I'm sure that won't be the case forever.

I did visit my family briefly that night, because I thought I might get a guilt trip if I didn't make it to their house within 24 hours of arriving in the city. That went well, no anxiety attack there, so I knew I was heading back in the direction of normal.

The next day, finally, was like actually being on vacation instead of in hell. I felt almost 100% better physically. First thing in the morning, I went back over to my parents' house, because now my older sister was there with my 15-month-old nephew. I got to meet him for the first time. He wasn't sick at all. I still worried he might throw up on me whenever he coughed, but he didn't. I spent a couple hours with him, and we played with all his toys together. He is adorable, and I love him so much. Spending that time with him really cheered me up.

I also went to the company I work for and saw all the coworkers I haven't seen in two years, which was awesome. I love them all too and have missed actually being around them. My anxiety got really high again though. I think it was partially because I'm not used to being around so many people who know me and are all looking at me, and partially because I knew some of them had been sick recently. I ended up spending a few minutes hiding in the bathroom until I didn't feel so nauseous and shaky. I didn't even really care though. I was so happy to be there that I couldn't muster up the usual annoyance I feel at myself. Seeing them plus seeing my nephew made me feel certain that this trip was a good idea, that it was all worth it, even though it has been challenging. Besides, I'm almost positive I'm not going to get sick. I took Emergen-C for a few days before we left, I take a regular multivitamin every day, and I'm generally very physically healthy and have a great immune system.

The afternoon was a lot of fun too. I hung out in the hotel room with my wife and an old friend of ours from high school. I went to see my grandmother, who is the sweetest woman in the world. I don't think I know anyone who knows how to love people as unconditionally as she does. In the evening, I went back to my parents' again to hang out for a while. Despite doing all these different things, I managed to eat well the entire day!

Today I'm "embracing" my limits again. Both my family and my wife's family are having Thanksgiving meals / gatherings, but I decided not to go to either. I really wanted to go to the one with my wife's family, because I haven't gotten to see my sister-in-law or mother-in-law very much while here. But both gatherings are in another city, and I know a long drive, lots of people, and pressure to eat is likely going to result in me feeling "nauseous" for hours. I know I could handle it, but I really don't feel like forcing myself to get through something else. So I'm hanging out in the hotel for most of the day and seeing my family one more time tonight after they get back from their party. We're leaving early tomorrow morning, and possibly these last two days of driving will be just as bad as the first two days, so I'm sure it's a good idea to have a "chill day" before that.

This trip has really driven home the fact that there is a lot more work I need to do in order to get to the point where I can function the way I want to. I'm definitely going to be recommitting to recovery hardcore when we get home. Less thinking about and resenting my anxiety all the time and more actually doing the things that will help.

Oh, but the good news is that I didn't take any anti-nausea, anti-emetic, or anti-anxiety medicine on this trip. I either talked to my wife or used word searches and crosswords, my emWave, and affirmations to calm down. I'm really proud of that, and of how well I managed to eat overall despite feeling "sick" for hours every day. I suppose I can go as far as to say that this trip has been a good representation of the "emetophobia shmemetophobia" mentality. Not everything went perfectly, but I bounced back like a badass.

restaurants / thinking through anxiety

Since my second class was canceled, I wanted to come up with a suitable replacement challenge. A few nights ago, I was out with my wife, and we decided spur-of-the-moment to walk to a nearby restaurant for dinner. I generally don't handle restaurants well, and when we go to one, it's usually planned out at least a day in advance. It felt wrong and dangerous to go to one right then, without the planning, and since I know logically that no planning is necessary, I agreed that we should go and that I should handle it.

It was an extremely successful meal. I felt some anxiety when we first got there, because I had a strange feeling in my stomach, but I was almost positive it was a combination of hunger and my anxiety about going to the restaurant. It went away once I got my food and started eating. Most of the time, I feel the least anxiety while actually eating, because I am focused on the delicious food. The time between when I finish eating and when we leave is the problem. The check has to come, and then it has to get paid, and then the receipt has to come back, and I spend this time worrying about how full I am and the feelings of digestion in my stomach. Lately when we go to restaurants, I focus on making myself as calm as possible during this period, by saying affirmations to myself or doing breathing exercises. I think I am getting much better at sitting with the feelings and knowing that it's just my body doing the normal work it always has to do.

I tend to focus on the fact that "this uncomfortable feeling is happening to me again" rather than the fact that it has never resulted in anything bad happening in the past. I noticed this a few months ago in therapy when I was talking about events that were coming up that I was anxious about. I told my therapist that I thought I would feel sick during them and worry that I was going to throw up, and in the back of my head I was thinking "but why does that matter? You are saying you are afraid of fear, which is pointless. Don't you get it? That is all that will happen. You might feel anxious, and that's it. As it has every other time in the past, it will fade away without anything horrible happening. Then it will be gone as if it never existed, because it's barely anything, just an out of control emotion." It was such a strange epiphany, the first time I'd ever really gotten that concept in my entire life. It didn't fix everything, but it was exciting to me anyway, and it's something I've always tried to keep in mind since then.

Around the same time, I discovered another similar hole in my logic. Often when I "feel sick" in a public place, I don't think about the feeling itself. I think mostly about where I am or what I am doing and judge whether it's okay to feel the way I feel based on that. Like if I am out at the grocery store, I will be thinking without even realizing it something like "I could throw up because I am at the grocery store" instead of "I'm not going to throw up, I've had this feeling before, and being at a grocery store in no way increases the odds of anything bad happening."

Sleep is like this. I feel convinced (especially when I wake up in the middle of the night and am still half-asleep) that being asleep in itself will lead to me throwing up, because I am not awake to guard against it. I know it's best to calm down, no matter what, but I find it hard to move on to the next step after that, which would be to return to sleep. Even when I start feeling better, I tell myself to wait a few more minutes and make sure it sticks.

To help with this, I posted a set of affirmations next to my bed so that I see them if I wake up in the middle of the night: "This feeling isn't dangerous - it will pass." "I've survived this before and I'll survive this time too." "This isn't an emergency. It's okay to think slowly about what I need to do." "These are just thoughts - not reality." I'm so used to them by now that sometimes I'll just stare at them, too tired to really take in what they mean word by word, but knowing that they have a general meaning of 'I'm not going to throw up, I can go back to sleep.'

It's just comforting to have them there, not only as a means to reduce my anxiety in that moment, but as a reminder of the changes I've been making to my life in general. Positive self-talk is no longer foreign to me. My outlook on everything is changing, and it's exciting to think about where I am heading.

obligatory introduction post

It feels strange to give a background / explanation of something that has been with me my entire life. Chances are you already know something about emetophobia anyway, if you're here, and there are plenty of websites that explain it. Best of which, in my opinion, is this one. I'm not sure about the reliability of the rest of that website, but this FAQ was the first thing I ever stumbled across that made everything make sense to me.

I have no idea what caused my phobia. I have no memory of a traumatic experience involving me or someone else vomiting. I was 9 the last time I actually did throw up, but I must have already had the phobia at that point or was at least on my way to developing it, because I can remember times before that where I acted in weird ways. If my stomach hurt, I would crouch down on the floor if possible, because I thought that made me safer. I would try to hide from my teachers the fact that I felt sick, because I felt it was something shameful. If eventually my anxiety overwhelmed me, I would suddenly blurt out that I didn't feel well and needed to go to the nurse, and the teacher always looked taken aback. At some point in my childhood, I became scared to touch food at all, even after washing my hands, and went through a phase where I ate like a dog, holding my plate or bowl up to my mouth.

I was around 11 or 12 when I started researching online and found the FAQ website linked to above, but it took several more years before I really felt like I had any control over what was happening to me.

So moving on from history, this is business-as-usual nowadays.

-- I feel "nauseous" almost every day. This fake "nausea" is really anxiety, hunger, normal feelings of digestion, indigestion, heartburn, etc. It's hard for me to tell the difference between these and to identify my current feeling correctly. It's gotten easier over the years. But I still frequently get nervous that I am in danger of throwing up, especially if I "feel sick" in public. It's even hard for me to tolerate non-stomach pains, like a headache or general muscle soreness, since I will interpret these as signs of potential illness.

-- I think about the safety of my food a lot, the potential to get ill from food poisoning. This leads to avoiding certain restaurants or types of food that don't seem "safe" to me, throwing food away that is most likely still fine because I worry it has gone bad, or feeling anxious after consuming certain foods that seem high-risk to me. I also have a long list of foods I avoid eating before going out in public or while out in public (anything spicy, greasy, rich, too filling, too sweet - aka anything that could make my stomach hurt). This makes eating on long car trips and vacations difficult. Grocery shopping is also kind of a pain, because I inspect everything I am buying, and if anything looks weird or "off" to me (like an apple with a spot on it), I usually can't bring myself to get it.

-- Eating in restaurants in general doesn't work out that well. It's rare that I can get through an entire restaurant meal without "feeling nauseous" from anxiety.

-- I can remember times when I was young and threw up in the middle of the night, right after waking up. So I consider sleep to be a time where illness can sneak up on you and make you vomit before you have a chance to stop it from happening in some way. Because of this, it's hard for me to fall asleep if I don't feel well. I also frequently wake up in the middle of the night and "feel sick" - I'm guessing this is usually just hunger, since sleeping is also a long stretch of not eating.

-- I do not drink alcohol at all and avoid being in places/situations where other people are drinking (excessively to the point of drunkenness, I mean).

-- I avoid being around children, since they are much more likely to have some illness and/or be vomiting.

-- I keep a store of anti-emetics, Pepto Bismol, and Tums at home. This hasn't always been the case. I have always been extremely strict with myself about using these things, because I remembered reading that emetophobics could become dependent on them or abuse them to the point of unhealthiness, and I never wanted to allow myself to reach that point. But this past year has not been the best for me, and I have become (slightly) more lenient about it. I also just don't like putting anything out of the ordinary in my body, even something as harmless as Tums.

-- I avoid traveling in general and public transportation. I don't have a problem with motion sickness as far as I can tell, but my anxiety will lead to me feeling "sick" anyway if I am on a boat, plane, or bus. Trains and cars, not as much, depending on the situation and who I am with.

-- I am afraid that if I get a tickle in my throat or have a coughing fit, this could lead to throwing up, so I tend to carry a water bottle with me everywhere I go just in case this happens.

-- I ask my wife at least once a day if I am sick or if I have a fever. Or I will ask her while eating or directly after eating if she thinks the food is likely to make me throw up.

-- When my wife is sick, I don't take care of her. I keep my distance as much as possible. One time when she had a stomach virus, I went to stay with a friend and didn't come back until I was sure she was better and she had decontaminated all our belongings.

I think that's about it. I can't say I diligently stick to any of the behaviors in the above list, because I am always trying to challenge myself when it comes to this. Ever since I realized I had emetophobia, I have tried to keep the momentum of a normal life going, mostly by pushing myself to keep going out places. Keep going to movies, to restaurants, to school or work. My tendency is to want to be home all the time where I'm safer. I currently work from home, which I think has led to me losing some of that momentum. I don't go out enough anymore. But I'm determined to fix this.

Which is the main point of this blog, I suppose. To force myself to do the things I am afraid of doing and then write about how successful I am. There are so many ways I am successful already (some emetophobics can't even speak/write the word "vomit" or watch vomit scenes on TV), and I know I can do even better than I am doing now. Will I ever be completely cured? Most days I think absolutely not. But it's not just "cured" or "not cured," it's an entire spectrum of fear, and reaching the perfect positive end of the spectrum doesn't matter so much to me as long as I am able to function well enough in order to do all the things I want to do in life.