For my second session of exposure therapy, I was instructed to bring a few thing that would induce anxiety related to my phobia. I brought two things. Yogurt and a PopTart. The yogurt was kind of a cop out to be honest. I thought maybe eating yogurt while talking about my phobia and experiences with vomiting would show that I was trying but in reality I knew it was something I could probably handle. My doctor told me I could choose whichever one I wanted. I thought for a minute. The first time I saw this doctor I told myself that this was the time. No avoiding. No deflecting. Just honest therapy. I told him I would try eating the PopTart.
It felt so stupid. It was just a dumb sugary strudel that should be no big deal to eat apart from the fact that it tastes awful, but I had not had one of these since getting the stomach flu in 2013. It was the first time I had thrown up since developing my phobia and I had thrown up over 10 times. I couldn’t even look at a box of these things without wincing. This was a huge step for me. I was asked to explain why this was such a trigger to me and I recounted how I had thrown up a bit on my hand and I remembered what it felt and looked like. I began to feel anxious because I felt as if eating a PopTart would give me bad luck. I wondered if this was too big a step, but tried not to dwell on that thought.
I took it out of the package and my mouth started to salivate. This didn’t happen because it smelled good or because I wanted to eat it. It felt like I wanted to throw up or gag. I felt myself on the brink of panicking but pushed it down because I was in public with someone I didn’t know well. I started with a small bite and then another. My doctor then asked me to push the gooey middle part on the back of my hand because this was the image I was so fixated on in my head.Â
This was a breaking point. I started to breathe heavily and my eyes watered from being so overwhelmed. Dr. M asked me to stick with it. “Stare at your hand and tell me about the incident that caused this phobia”. So I did. I started talking about how I didn’t know what was wrong with me and how I called my mother from the school office over and over before being shooed away by the secretary. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was annoyed by me. Dr. M asked me if I was alone. I couldn’t tell if he meant physically or emotionally, but that didn’t matter because I was. I was alone then and so many times after in each way.Â
I started crying and shaking so hard. Things went from just plain anxiety to emotion. I hate crying in front of people. I don’t want others to think I hurt and can be hurt. I felt so open and vulnerable and I hated every second of it. My doctor kept saying things like “it’s okay to show emotion” and “I can tell there has been such a long journey of deep suffering”. This only made me cry harder. I suddenly felt so exhausted and almost defeated. This is my life and I don’t know if I can ever heal. I don’t know how long this road will be and I don’t think I have any other choice but to continue on it.
This stupid PopTart was still in my hand. I had eaten most of it, but still had a rather large piece left. I was so tired and ready to go home so I moved to the garbage bin to throw it away. I paused and Dr. M waited patiently. I had come too far to not get the victory. With tears in my eyes I shoved the disgusting thing into my mouth and chewed. Dr. M looked at me with this huge smile on his face. I wiped my tears, straightened up and said “Same time next week?” as if nothing happened. He started laughing and said that was the most badass thing he had ever seen happen in his office.Â
I smiled as I walked out of the building, but as soon as I got into my car I started bawling. I was so proud of myself and so utterly depressed at the same time. I was happy I had done it, but angry that I had to do it at all. I barely remember driving home. I do remember calling a few of my friends to tell them what I had done. None of them answered and I don’t know why I thought they would. It was just another reminder of all the other issues I still had to face. It was another reminder of how alone I really was/am. None of them called back.
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