“My head hurts. It has to be a brain tumor. Maybe I’m just stressed out; it is finals week. No. I should just Google it and see what the symptoms of a tumor are. Now my skin is kind of itchy. Oh my god… There is a Scabies outbreak at school. I must have gotten it. *Calls Doctor and orders an emergency prescription* That’s it – I am quarantined. No one talk to me. Look at me. Touch me. You’re all contagious.”
Hi, I am an undiagnosed hypochondriac and that is a little glimpse of what goes on in my head 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Sucks right? That’s not even the half of it. I have actually made myself physically ill by diagnosing myself with some rare disease that has only been reported once. The internet can make you believe anything but if you’re a hypochondriac – it’s your best friend and your enemy all in one.
My psychotic life began at a very young age. I was actually sick, not “I think I’m dying” kind of sick but actually severely ill as a child. In and out of the hospital and living with a mother that thought that piece of dirt on your back was a cancerous mole can really make someone turn into a crazy person by age seven. Hypochondria has a relationship with something rooted in reality so my craziness isn’t a result of imagination, but rather my memory taking over my life in an ironic way. My sister once thought Maggie, her precious dog, had cancer. Boy, did she turn a lot of people’s days upside down over that one. Long story short – it was a piece of gum. The dog is still alive eating something out of the garbage. But I digress.
The life of a hypochondriac is a full time job. You are constantly Googling, typing and talking to anyone that will listen to why you think you might have Ebstein’s anomaly. I once had a friend convince me that Herpes of the a$$ was a real thing. Three hours later, deep into Web-MD, I can assure you it is not. I’ve had a lot of doors slammed in my face, texts not answered and conversations shut down over this fear. I might sound crazy to you, and I probably am but anxiety disorders are a real thing – and no, that is not self-diagnosed.
I am Grey’s Anatomy biggest fan and truly believe I have earned a medical degree after completing season 10. Watching this show has given me a unrealistic and fantasized view of what goes on behind closed doors in hospitals, which has further developed my fear of rare diseases. If my headache ever turns into a brain tumor, only Dr. Derek Shepherd has permission to operate on me.
Hypochondria is real. It’s a part of my life and I’ve learned to accept it because at the end of the day, my constant fear of illness and disease keeps my life exciting.
