I have always been afraid of being sick. Since I was a kid, I would have really bad anxiety surrounding people vomiting, or myself. But I used to think it was normal and that someday I would get rid of it. I think I have been sick only twice in my whole life. But in 2012, after thinking more about this fear, I developed my first Panic attack. It was terrifying, and still is. I couldn’t eat without feeling anxious, going to school was hard and I would constantly think about this body reaction. So, in 2013, I discovered I had EMETOPHOBIA. I have always been really ashamed of my fears, but last year I decided to talk to my family and to my friends about it. College is really hard, and this year I was diagnosed with clinical depression. It was horrible as well.
I have better days, but the hard ones beat me and let me down in despair and hopelessness. I have been on antidepressants, which really helped me with the sleep and the eating. I feel better about depression, but I haven’t overcome this phobia. Right now I am having an anxiety attack. I cannot lose hope. I’ve discovered this word brings meaning to life.
