I've been seeing a wonderful therapist on and off for years for generalized anxiety issues, but it's only been in the past six months or so that I've been able to see how clearly health anxiety has dominated my life. Ever since I was a child, I think. It just seems that stressful events trigger physical responses for me (if someone asks if I'm stressed, I'll honestly report, No, I don't really feel stressed.) but my body responds, and those physical responses morph into something bigger to be worried about.

A few years ago, something terrible and stressful happened at my workplace. The stress and crisis stretched out for years, and still pops up now and again. I've been on a well-deserved leave from work, and I've spent almost the entire time dealing with some "health crisis" or another. First it was unexplained chest pain, PVCs and irregular cardiac tests that convinced me I was going to drop dead of a heart attack, then it was crippling stomach pain that I was convinced was cancer, and recently, my dog was attacked by a raccoon, and I've been terrified of rabies, so much so, that I've become distant from my beloved companion, who was my one comfort through the worst of the anxiety.

I go back to work soon and I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF for wasting the time off I've had. I'm so angry with myself for giving my life over to constant worry. It honestly feels as if the instant I find a way to release myself from one worry (I did manage to do this at one point this spring - we were on a trip, and I just told myself, "Look, if you have flippin' stomach cancer, then what do you want to do? Cry through this entire trip, or bloody well enjoy it because it's the last damn trip you'll be on?? And I did end up enjoying the trip, very much.), another sneaky worry crops up.

My mind is GENIUS at taking rational arguments and finding the loopholes, the possible exceptions, the reasons why this terrible and unlikely thing is definitely happening to ME. And life throws in its share of curveballs. (No one's died of rabies on our side of the country since 2003, except the poor guy who died a few days after my dog was attacked by a raccoon.)

I know, deep down, trauma from my childhood convinced me that I didn't deserve to ever be happy and healthy. And in a really sick way, the desperate feeling of worry is an anchor for me - it's something that feels FAMILIAR, whereas, not having anything to worry about feels strange. I realize how little sense that makes.

Anyway, I just wanted to post how I'm feeling in case this resonates with anyone. I want to get better, but I'm scared I won't get better. At the same time, I'm really sick and tired of health anxiety ruling and RUINING my life. I see my therapist again on Wednesday, so there'll be lots to talk about!