“I don’t want to live, but it’s scary to die”: How I struggle with hypochondria
Hypochondria is not taken seriously - most often it is perceived as an amusing personality trait and a reason for jokes. Nevertheless, it is a real mental disorder that occurs in almost one tenth of the population; we were telling you about the signs of a hypochondria in oneself. This condition can ruin the life and the one who suffers, and others. Anna Shatokhina told how she lives with hypochondria and what kind of treatment can help.
My name is Anna, I'm twenty-nine years old, I have a husband and a Scottish Fold cat. For the last seven years I have been working in marketing, but I also graduated from a graphic designer and now I combine both professions. The first signs of frustration appeared when I was about ten or twelve. I remember that at school they talked about diseases, and suddenly I began to listen to my body, after which a panic attack began: a strong fear, rapid pulse and breathing, a sense of unreality of what was happening. I did not understand what happened to me, it was very scary. At home, she told her parents about what had happened, they were surprised and tried to calm me down. I didn’t sleep a couple of nights, but then I forgot everything safely. I do not think that then the parents knew that such a peculiarity of the psyche in general exists.
Before graduation, the hypochondria manifested itself in a light form - then it was still tolerable, I thought that I was “just such a person,” tried to persecute bad thoughts, tried to distract myself. By the way, I had no problems with peers. I enjoyed communicating with people, joking, walking, going to classes and enjoying life. But attacks happened more often, and it was more and more difficult to control them. I started having problems with perception of myself, with communication and with the world around me as a whole. Gradually, I began to turn into a downtrodden neurotic, startled from the slightest noise, covered in spots during a conversation, afraid of any tingling in the body - which is sure to happen if you constantly listen to yourself - and shaking at the thought of visiting the hospital.
Then I did not know about the existence of hypochondria: I was told that I was just a nervous, unbalanced teenager. At the same time, I could attend classes, do homework, meet friends, guys, smile and have fun - in general, behave like a normal person. In those moments I was an ordinary person. But there was another part of me - it appeared when I was left alone with my thoughts. The worst thing was the coming of the night - that was when all the fears that I so carefully tried to push out of my consciousness got out and filled me up completely. I didn’t sleep well for several years, having reached the point where I couldn’t fall asleep without the show on the laptop. Sometimes he could walk all night — I was so relaxed.
It was a vicious circle: panic attack, complete despair, search for calm in the forums, the decision to go to the doctor, tests, the nightmare of waiting, a refutation of the fatal diagnosis. And all over again
I went to college. I liked the specialty and the people around them. But my condition worsened, I still did not understand what was happening, it became even harder for me to communicate, answer at the blackboard, and later just get out of bed and go somewhere - I was rapidly losing the taste for life. Several times I tried to talk about my fears, but it didn’t lead to anything good: for one thing, it all seemed silly from the series “you just have too much free time”, others advised to get married as soon as possible and give birth. Only a few people supported me in spite of everything, for which I am very grateful.
Given the ongoing stress and poor sleep, I sank into depression. Symptoms of disease began to worsen. No valerian women, motherwort, peony tinctures and other nonsense, which was advised by the doctors at the local clinic, did not help me. For the first time the assumption that the problem lies in the field of psychology, said a female surgeon from the clinic at the university. It was the second or third course, I ran to her with a bursting pain in my chest, which haunted me for a month. Having set myself another fatal diagnosis, I went to give up. Seeing my condition - I was covered with red spots from excitement - she began to ask not about physical symptoms, but about my childhood, relationships in family, friends. After a couple of minutes of communication with her, the pain interfering with life has passed. The doctor did direct me to the oncologist, and an hour later the fears returned with the pain; Fortunately, everything worked out.
It was a vicious circle: a panic attack with all the consequences, complete despair, the search for calm in the forums or conversations with relatives, the decision to go to the doctor, tests, waiting nightmare, refutation of the fatal diagnosis, and let me go again for a couple of weeks. Then all over again. This was my personal hell. The worst thing is that you never know where and when this nightmare will overtake you. But you know for sure that it will happen again.
In the meantime, the Internet has tightly entered my life, I constantly drove requests with my own symptoms into the search engine - and, of course, I found confirmation of another deadly disease. The unpleasant sensations grew along with fear, I sobbed, I wanted to die and not suffer more - but at the same time it was scary because I was already dying. Once, instead of another article about cancer, I came across an article about hypochondria, and a picture of what was happening began to emerge.
Later, I came across a forum of hypochondriacs - there we communicated, reassured each other, this brought temporary relief. There were people who got rid of this rubbish, they came and literally begged everyone to turn to psychotherapists, but for some reason everyone, including me, missed these messages past their ears. There are several sites for communication on the topic of hypochondria, but I will not advise them - in my opinion, this will not end with anything good. Yes, you can speak out, even feel some kind of unity, but at the same time read about the new symptoms and immediately find them in yourself. The internet for hypochondria is the worst enemy. There are hundreds of thousands of articles, often with no real relationship to medicine, where each symptom will mark the soonest demise (as a rule, it is cancer). Stopping google symptoms is very difficult - it's like a drug.
Of course, besides the forums, I had friends — it turned out that one of them was also tormented by hypochondria. It was a great relief for me: we calmed each other and supported, it was important to realize that a loved one can truly feel your pain. But later the same mechanism worked as with the Internet: listening to her symptoms, I began to look for them in my room. The condition worsened, his hands dropped. Sometimes I didn't want to live at all. I didn’t immediately tell my future husband about the problem, but when we decided to move in, it was stupid to hide something. I am very grateful to him for his support - although it was difficult for Yura to understand what was happening to me, he was always there.
Doctors reacted differently: in paid clinics, they watched and prescribed a bunch of tests, in free - they prescribed glycine and sent them to psychologists
After graduation, I changed a few works. For a while I liked to go to the office - I saw life in it and it became easier for me. I tried not to tell my colleagues anything, I thought that they would consider me "abnormal" or they would offer to "find some occupation." By the way, I had always had “some classes”: dances, photoshop, hendmade, fitness, swimming pool, painting, poetry and so on. I knew how to rejoice, but even at these moments my personal hell was with me, just in sleep mode. When I started making money, the number of surveys increased. My medical record looks like my grandmother’s. The doctors reacted differently: in paid clinics, they were understanding and looked at a bunch of tests, in free ones they prescribed glycine and were sent to psychologists. There was a moment when literally everything hurt me: throat, back, knees, arms, chest, head, bones and muscles.
Once at work, I acutely realized how senseless my life goes. Then I was about twenty-six. For eight or ten hours I was in the office, I had a chronic lack of sleep, constant fatigue, and the hypochondria only gained momentum. I thought: "And when to live when?" I became very scared, and I decided to change everything: I left the office, found the remote, started studying and started looking for a psychologist.
During the year I went to two doctors, but none of them worked out. The first took in a paid general clinic; having questioned me about the problem, I began to read something monotonously from my laptop and did not inspire confidence. I communicated with the second on Skype, but after a couple of sessions I refused his services - I realized that I needed a reception in my office. As a result, thanks to Facebook, the stars came together - for six months I have been undergoing psychotherapy. Larisa, my doctor, after listening to the whole life story, complaints about hypochondria, constant anxiety, aggression, rejection of oneself and everything around, at the very first reception said: "Anya, this is not you." This thought made me very happy - it really wasn't me. Later we picked old psychological trauma. With each reception the world turned over and the bright future seemed more and more real.
Over the past six months, I have understood a lot about hypochondria: this is not a set of symptoms - this is a symptom, a consequence of psychological trauma. A disturbing signal from the depths of consciousness that at some point something went wrong. Psychotrauma can arise for various reasons: strict parents, relations with the exporter, just people who have inadequately behaved towards you (teachers, doctors, colleagues, friends). This is important to understand, because people often associate something very unbelievable with the concept of injury, such as a maniac attack.
I came with a request to cure hypochondria and understand my life, but I received much more — a real one myself. In my case, the mechanism worked as follows: the injuries provoked constant anxiety, greatly increased the fear of death and distorted the picture of the world beyond recognition. All this was accompanied by hypochondria, poor health and behavior change. Attacks began to occur less frequently after a couple of months of therapy; later I had to face my fears, which I had avoided for many years, and work with them. I had to turn myself inside out, but thanks to that I gathered myself piece by piece back into a whole person.
Finishing this story, I would like to repeat the phrase of my psychotherapist: "Time will pass, and these events will be perceived as a bad film that you once saw a long time ago. And you no longer need to revise it." So it happened. Now, memories of what it is like to be a hypochondriac of the 100th level are gradually disappearing from me - but I know for sure that there are many such people. I know that due to this problem families break up, and people may be on the verge of suicide. On the one hand, the problem is misunderstanding and rejection from others. On the other hand, there is a lack of awareness by the hypochondriacs themselves that this is only an alarming signal, that they are not guilty of anything and need psychological help.