Health Anxiety

My name is Molly, and I’m here to get some support from others who suffer from Health Anxiety. Still check messages

[ahypochondriacal]

Fearful of relapsing

I was doing so well with my anxiety and it’s popped back up again today. I’ve been scared recently that it will all come back. All of the obsessive thoughts, the fear, the hypochondria. I’m so scared it will happen again.

[ahypochondriacal]

Anxiety manifesting in my breathing

So over time I’ve realized that my anxiety has decided to manifest in my breathing. I felt so alone in this process because I felt like I was the only one feeling this way, therefore my hypochondria would kick in and tell me something is wrong with my lungs. Maybe I have a pulmonary embolism, maybe I have a collapsed lung. But it’s anxiety. Anxiety is a little bitch. So for anyone with this same issue, know that you’re not alone. It’s going to be okay. It’s okay to feel anxious. You will get through it. Be positive and distract yourself.

Always feel free to message me

[a-madd-world]

when you see a list of symptoms: …..oh fuck please no

your hypochondria: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[anxietyproblem]

[soullesstomatoes]

having health anxiety is the worst because you’re so worried about dying that you actually forget to live

[memes-to-show-my-therapist]

I’d call it compulsive oversharing, but you can say “openness” if you want ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[hypochondri-ack]

the confusion when i go to the doctor for a check-up and they find nothing wrong with me despite the 38 illnesses i’ve diagnosed myself with in the last week alone

[thepartsyoullneversee]

Forever stuck between

“something’s actually wrong” and

“my is brain making me think something’s wrong”

[anxietyproblem]

[ground-zoro]

Me: *can’t remember names I REALLY should know* Oh no, hyper early onset alzheimer’s. My life is over. 

Tumblr: Depression and Anxiety can cause memory loss.  

Me: I’m cured!!! My life isn’t over!! 

[optipess]

Hiccup Hiccup

[ahurricaneinabottle]

WebMD is a dating app for hypochondriacs.  I look up my symptoms and swipe through every illness/disorder/condition until I find the one that matches me best. I know it’s “The One” when my heart starts to race and I get weak in the knees. Or when it’s all I can think about for months at a time. I tell my mom it’s panic at first sight and she tells me I’m getting ahead of myself. She’s heard this all before. While other people fall for their soulmates, I fall for my obsessive thinking. We’ll probably end up getting married and have children named Depression and Isolation. ‘Til death do us part, right?

– Panic at First Sight // h.w

[davoye]

the new hit series Am I Dying Or Is This Just What Breathing Feels Like, brought to you by

Anxiety

available FOR FREE, every night on YourMalfunctioningBrainTM

[ahypochondriacal]

Singulair; Montelukast

When you’ve been taking Montelukast for 3 months and failed to realize it was making your anxiety, depression and mood go off the handles. If you’re on this medication, please look into it

[arrystorm]

My fear of dying controls my living.

[spongeboob-rippedpants]

Normal Person: That will never happen to me. *continues on with day*

Hypochondriac: That happens to other people and could happen to me too. *intense anxiety and hyper-awareness of body*

[lilac-stay]

Having hypochondria is a bummer.

It’s that high, slimy, voice that gets under your skin, that confuses itself with your thoughts.

It’s an insolent whisper that keeps telling you that there is something wrong, that you have no idea why, that it may be serious.

It could be nothing, it could just be your own mind playing an unfunny joke. But that possibility is just not enough to calm down, because your body wouldn’t be sending all those messages if you were fine. Because maybe it truly is nothing to worry about, but what do you know. It may be everything instead.

And you keep telling yourself to just ignore that voice inside your head, because you know it is irrational. You know. But it just keeps whispering.

And sure, you can always try to pretend it’s nothing. You can always try to pretend you can’t hear it. But what if it’s right?

And it’s right then that it tells you to go and have yourself checked by a doctor, which isn’t even such a bad idea. What harm can it do? Just to be sure.

Except that you can’t do that, because you know about the “Boy who cried wolf” dynamic.

Maybe this time you don’t have anything, and maybe you won’t have anything even the next. And then they won’t believe you anymore.

They’ll send you away without thinking too much about it: it’s just your anxiety, it’s all in your head. They’ll be sloppy, and bored, and they won’t take you seriously. Maybe you could be right, that time, but it will be late.

So you just shut up and try to breath decently.

Slowly.

Your heart starts beating so fast that it’s the only sound you can hear, so you know for sure you ain’t gonna sleep.

And right there, under the deafening sound of your ribs clinging too much onto your organs, there still is that tiny little voice you just can’t shush.

It could be cancer. It could be the goddam ALS.

It could be nothing, but you are already there, in an hospital’s bed, completely bold, without the strength to raise an arm, without the strength to just even breath on your own. You need some pipes to go all the way down to your lungs.

Or perhaps you are on a wheelchair, your perfectly awoken mind disheartened by a body whom refuses to listen. Every single one of your words strangled by a throat who won’t answer.

It sure is a scaring idea, isn’t it? To see everything, hear everything, to think and feel like always, but being trapped into a body that is nothing more than a broken puppet. Pinocchio, but the other way around.

And there is nothing you can do about that.

You are a freaking hypochondriac, and that illness that you may not even have already got into your emotions, it already stole them to make them its own, like a thief.

“Oh, what if I just, like, say cancer?”

And they laugh, like they are being funny. What a great joke.