HYPOCHONDRIA

I’ve been a hypochondriac all my life. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been convinced that I am some day going to be stricken with a terminal illness. Lung cancer, leukemia, brain aneurysms, polio, Lou Gehrig’s disease, scurvy, fleas! I’ve always felt that I would catch one or more of those. Every time I read or hear about the symptoms of a disease, I either realize that I already have them or I begin to feel them coming on. This week, it’s my lungs. I feel like I can’t breathe. The chain reaction inside of a hypochondriac’s mind is amazing. It starts with a deep breath. Then I think, “Why am I breathing so weird?” This makes me think I have a disease in my lungs. This, in turn, gives me major anxiety that makes me honestly breathe weird. I know I’m doing this to myself, but the worst part is that I can’t stop. Even though I am a self-diagnosed hypochondriac, I can’t convince myself that I have nothing more than a strong mind. The scary thing is that one of these days, I think I might think so much about having something, that I will actually give myself a disease. Then I worry about that, too. I’m a mess. I’m almost as bad as those freaks who never leave their houses because they could get hit by a bus. The people who constantly think about death and the fact that you could “go at anytime.” The people who stop living their lives because they’re scared. It’s scary to think that some people are trapped inside of their houses for their entire lives, living in fear. It’s scary to think that I could trap myself inside my own mind with fear of things that most likely won’t happen. I should enjoy life. That way, when my time actually does come, I will have taken advantage of every moment and not wasted precious time worrying about what could happen. I think so many of us need to just take a minute from the world to close our eyes, take a deep breath and relax. Enjoy the moment.