Emetophobia sucks.

Those who know me well know that I'm a sufferer of emetophobia. For those who don't know, emetophobia is the fear of vomiting. And before you say "well, no one likes being sick," let me stop you right there. Emetophobia is not merely a dislike of being sick. It is a crippling fear that gets in the way of your day to day life. It's when you can't bear to sleep in the same bed as your partner if they so much as complain of feeling sick. It's when you refuse to step on a plane for a fear of child not telling their parents in time they're going to be ill, or being sat next to a complete stranger who's clutching that paper bag - just in case.

My reason for this post? Well, the past few weeks have emphasised the fact that while I feel my phobia has improved in recent years, it still rears it's ugly head from time to time. With me, it was a case of wrong place, wrong time. To be more specific, wrong channel, wrong time. I was 7 years old and home from school suffering from tonsilitis. Back in those days, Cartoon Network would be good up until about 9am, and then when kids were meant to be at school, it would change to baby shows until 3. At the time, there was nothing else on so I settled for Rugrats which is something I hated even back then, but alas, Dexter's Lab wouldn't be on again till 4. Some of you may remember an episode where Angelica tries on Chucky's glasses and they mess the shit out of her and she ends up throwing up from her father's point of view. Wow, just typing that gave me the shakes a little. And that was it. I have suffered from this god awful phobia ever since.

Over the years as I got older, it got worse after a horrendous bought of norovirus, which later resulted in what I don't like to admit was a quite severe case of obsessive compulsive handwashing and 2 weeks of eating nothing but ginger biscuits and mints. I am happy to report that since then, the compulsive handwashing is mainly gone, but unfortunately I still have what some people would describe as OCD tendencies, which most days I tend to deny, and refuse to see a GP for a fear of not being taken seriously and being told to visit the counselling service at my university rather than their one, because I quote "it's more convinient." I wish I could say I made that last part up, but I really didn't.

It doesn't help things that I also suffer from several stomach problems, of which I won't go into much detail, but I will say, the stomach issues and the emet-related anxiety like to feed each other, and most of the time, I don't know which I'd rather be rid of. On one hand, it would be nice to be able to not feel so helpless whenever a friend is drunk or when my boyfriend feels unwell; but on the other, it'd be nice to be able to go travelling or go out for a meal without the constant nausea.

Emetophobia also provides me with an irrational hatred for several kinds of people: those who don't wash their hands after using the toilet/blowing their nose, and those who go out in public less than 48 hours after having a stomach bug. Yes, I understand you have work and bills to pay, but spare a thought for everyone else. I can also see a third being added to this list in the future if I have children in the form of those who send their children to school when they're ill, but I don't want parents jumping down my throat, so I'll just leave it at that.

Another sucky thing is the fact that the obessive tendencies, anxiety and constant worrying about everything make me a highly annoying person. Several people I have met over the past few years probably see me as a total weirdo who has some serious issues. I am a weirdo for many reasons, but emetophobia isn't one of them. Although, it has been a nice bit of fuel for bullies in recent years. I was always careful who I told, but, things have a way of getting around.

While this phobia sucks and I would be more than happy to trade my psyche for one which is fearless and less anxious, I should take a moment to point out the things that emetophobia has brought to me that I am grateful for. One of which is the lovely, lovely people I have met as a result of several forums. It really makes the experience more comforting when you know you're not alone. It's also one of the reasons why I aspire for a career in psychology and mental health. However, recent research into possible careers tell me I need a masters at the very minimum, and even more education doesn't sound like the best option for me. I think it's time to grow up.

I would like to make future plans to cure my phobia or at least improve it further, but at the moment, as awful as it sounds, my motivation gets in the way. After having CBT a few years ago which I struggled with, the thought of eating vegetable soup from a cardboard hospital bowl (yes, you read correctly) makes my stomach turn. So, in the mean time, I'll be popping mints at every little stomach ache, taking mebeverine religiously and praying that I don't get sick. As for you, wash your hands!