peabodyfreak
31-10-06, 12:59
Hi there everyone,
I discovered this board yesterday when I was doing some research into some additional therapy for myself and after a quick look around I think this place is exactly what I need. Discussions with people who understand what I'm dealing with because they deal with it too, or have done in the past.
A little about me. I'm called Kerry, I'm 29 years old and I'm chronically Emetaphobic. I've suffered with this affliction all my life and don't have any idea where it came from or how to get rid of it. My phobia was at a livable level until a few years ago when I became increasingly aware it was getting worse, until July 2005 when my world came crashing down around my ears in the form of a nervous breakdown. I can speak flippantly about it now, but this time a year ago I was a shell of the person I am now. I'm originally a northern girl from Halifax, West Yorks (UK) but had been living down in London for the last 7 years and everything was going fine other than my phobia steadily getting worse. I had always been very conscious of what I eat, how clean my kitchen is, where I buy food from etc but I had started to develop a period after each meal where I sat waiting to see if I had food poisoning (this being a fate worse than death in my eyes). I started having flashes of images in my mind every night as I lay down to go to sleep. My sleep became erratic and I couldn't even contemplate sleeping if I didn't have a bottle of Pepto Bismal on my bedside table.
On top of that, there were other things going on in my life that had become stressful and it was all building up slowly until I finally cracked. My stress was displaying itself in the form of nausea and obviously for me this was a very uncomfortable thing. I started having hysterical panic attacks, the odd one here, the odd one there, until they started to become a regular thing. They became so bad I was afraid to go out of the house in case I started to panic. My mum came to stay with me a few weeks to get me back on my feet but it was quite clear I had passed the point of no return when I started becoming afraid to eat because it would make me feel even worse or potentially make me sick. That's when we knew that I needed help and I couldn't do that in London, 300 miles away from my family. My doctor in London had told me to "get over it" (his exact words, I might add) and I hadn't been in to work for a few weeks. We discussed it and agreed that I had to go back to Halifax for a little while to get myself straightened out and see my family doctor (who was a hell of a lot more inclined to listen to me). So that's what I did. I gave up my job, my house, my social circle, everything, and went home.
I didn't think things could get any worse for me but in fact, they got a lot worse. Once I was home I started visiting my doctor and he immediately made me several appointments with the hospital so that I could have a head to toe physical to make entirely sure the nausea wasn't medical. In this time I had been eating virtually nothing at all (maybe one chocolate bar throughout a day) and I started losing weight dramatically. I was still having panic attacks and they had built up to one every day, sometimes more, until I was basically in a constant state of panic. I had to be given medicines to relax my body, medicines to make me sleep and medicines to ease the depression that was setting in. I was afraid to be alone in case I got ill, I was afraid to go to the bathroom (when I was 15 I threw up while innocently sat on the toilet), I was afraid to eat, afraid to sleep (I once woke up in the middle of the night for no reason and threw up). I withdrew into myself and only spoke when I really needed to, I had no physical energy to walk around much (due to no intake of food) and I cried every day. I missed my London friends, I missed working (although I couldn't do it even if I had the motivation to) and I just couldn't accept that this is what I had been reduced to. My mum had to hold my hand when I went for a simple pee! I cried when any meal was put in front
I discovered this board yesterday when I was doing some research into some additional therapy for myself and after a quick look around I think this place is exactly what I need. Discussions with people who understand what I'm dealing with because they deal with it too, or have done in the past.
A little about me. I'm called Kerry, I'm 29 years old and I'm chronically Emetaphobic. I've suffered with this affliction all my life and don't have any idea where it came from or how to get rid of it. My phobia was at a livable level until a few years ago when I became increasingly aware it was getting worse, until July 2005 when my world came crashing down around my ears in the form of a nervous breakdown. I can speak flippantly about it now, but this time a year ago I was a shell of the person I am now. I'm originally a northern girl from Halifax, West Yorks (UK) but had been living down in London for the last 7 years and everything was going fine other than my phobia steadily getting worse. I had always been very conscious of what I eat, how clean my kitchen is, where I buy food from etc but I had started to develop a period after each meal where I sat waiting to see if I had food poisoning (this being a fate worse than death in my eyes). I started having flashes of images in my mind every night as I lay down to go to sleep. My sleep became erratic and I couldn't even contemplate sleeping if I didn't have a bottle of Pepto Bismal on my bedside table.
On top of that, there were other things going on in my life that had become stressful and it was all building up slowly until I finally cracked. My stress was displaying itself in the form of nausea and obviously for me this was a very uncomfortable thing. I started having hysterical panic attacks, the odd one here, the odd one there, until they started to become a regular thing. They became so bad I was afraid to go out of the house in case I started to panic. My mum came to stay with me a few weeks to get me back on my feet but it was quite clear I had passed the point of no return when I started becoming afraid to eat because it would make me feel even worse or potentially make me sick. That's when we knew that I needed help and I couldn't do that in London, 300 miles away from my family. My doctor in London had told me to "get over it" (his exact words, I might add) and I hadn't been in to work for a few weeks. We discussed it and agreed that I had to go back to Halifax for a little while to get myself straightened out and see my family doctor (who was a hell of a lot more inclined to listen to me). So that's what I did. I gave up my job, my house, my social circle, everything, and went home.
I didn't think things could get any worse for me but in fact, they got a lot worse. Once I was home I started visiting my doctor and he immediately made me several appointments with the hospital so that I could have a head to toe physical to make entirely sure the nausea wasn't medical. In this time I had been eating virtually nothing at all (maybe one chocolate bar throughout a day) and I started losing weight dramatically. I was still having panic attacks and they had built up to one every day, sometimes more, until I was basically in a constant state of panic. I had to be given medicines to relax my body, medicines to make me sleep and medicines to ease the depression that was setting in. I was afraid to be alone in case I got ill, I was afraid to go to the bathroom (when I was 15 I threw up while innocently sat on the toilet), I was afraid to eat, afraid to sleep (I once woke up in the middle of the night for no reason and threw up). I withdrew into myself and only spoke when I really needed to, I had no physical energy to walk around much (due to no intake of food) and I cried every day. I missed my London friends, I missed working (although I couldn't do it even if I had the motivation to) and I just couldn't accept that this is what I had been reduced to. My mum had to hold my hand when I went for a simple pee! I cried when any meal was put in front