My first memory of being afraid of death, was in my bathtub at 5 years old.
My grandmother put Mr. Bubble in the tub, so I could play with bubbles while I bathed. I was having so much fun. I even put some in my mouth and puffed them out, to watch them float back down.
Then the fear hit me: I was going to die because I put the bubbles in my mouth. They would find me dead in my bed the next morning, bubbles foaming from my throat. I pictured my funeral, where my Grandmother was crying, saying it was her fault and that I died in my brand new PJs.
I must have forgotten about it the next morning. My earliest memory with Thanatophobia, and it was brief and careless. I wish it was like that now.
When it really started was my Sophomore year in Highscool. I didn't know there was a name for it, or how to talk about it. But it came and went as it pleased, like a mistress in the night. I would be minding my own business, doing school work in my desk at school and BAM! Anxiety would take me over, and I would think I was dying. I was about to have a heart attack. I'd bit down on my lip, and try to stare at the lines on my note book, but it never helped. I just had to bare with it, till it would pass. But it stayed in the back of my mind: You are going to die. Maybe not now. Maybe not Tomorrow. You will never know when you're final moments will be.
I started seeing a consouler, and got on some anti-depressants. She was the first one I trusted to really talk about how I felt. She told me that with my history (Bad childhood. Who doesn't have one of those now adays?) it's normal to have panic and anxiety attacks. We tried for 2 years to find the root cause, but I could never find my trigger. By the time I did, it was too late. I lost my medicare on my birthday, and I could no longer see her.
But I still managed. I was able to control it, knowing, that it couldn't hurt me, even if I felt scared. And I could make them go away.
I was able to go on in life.
But as expected, things took a turn for the worse. I started worrying about my health in my new home. Was I eating right? Was the air clean? Is the water too hard?
Being away from home, I had to start deciding what to have for dinner, when to take my meds, hell, remembering on my own to take my meds...When to go to bed. I missed when simple things like that were taken care of for me.
Well done pork chops with spinich, with all natural ice cream and mellon, turned into "Want to just order a pizza?"
"Take your pills!" turned into "Crap, I forgot to take my medicine last night!"
"It's 11 at night! GO TO BED!" is now "Meh. 30 more minutes playing this video game and then I'll lay down." later..."Aw crap! It's 5 am!"
Suddenly I realized that I wasn't leading the healthiest of lifestyles. And I honestly couldn't afford to. And I was probably paying for it dearly.
Thanatophobia rears it's ugly head once more.
I fret over little things, like getting a paper cut, or I have a stye. The cramps must me cancer in my intestines!
The pain in my chest is a heart attack!
This cut will get infected!
I touched something that is going to give me Tetanus!
I think I just stopped breathing in my sleep!
I'm going to die, I'm going to die!!!! I don't want to die!
And it just goes on and on.
I can't even escape to sleep. It won't let me. I now have to try new drugs to help me sleep with out panic educed waking.
I search webMD, putting in all my random symtoms to see what life-threatening illnesses will pop up.
"It must be that! OH NO!"
In public, sometimes, I feel a little better. The constant commotion of friends and their lives keeps my mind preoccupied. But, because of my recent move, I can't be with them. And, to be honest, I don't want to share my strangeness with them. I do find myself tiring of faking my smile from time to time.
I desperately needed a place to go, to vent, and share how I feel from day to day. To purge it from my mind so I can move on. This odd combination of Thanatophbia and Hypochondria is toxic. I know that. I didn't ask to be this way. My husband gets fed up a lot, and I hate to upset him, but I have no answers. Luckily, he's always there to lean on, and listen. But he'd like to think he knows what I'm going though, and he doesn't. Only someone who's been here in this lifeless life would.
