Ok, I don't really know what I'm surposed to write here or if I should censor words or anything so I'm going to use the words 'being sick' or 'throwing up' as hopefully they don't upset people too much.

Anyway...I'm Richey...20 years old, from the UK...been emetaphobic for 16 years...last time since I properly threw up was 12 years ago and I've only been sick 3 times that I can remember.

Emetaphobia rules my life...I'm agoraphobic and haven't left the house more than 4 times in the past 3 years. I have also, in the past, starved myself to the point of being 3 days away from death (67lbs for an adult male).

Me and the dreaded V-word have an almost sado-masachistic quality together. I will try to make myself sick when I am extremely angry or upset (I'm a self injurer and I think it's a natural extension of that) and I've actually had relationships with several builimics as self-induced stuff doesn't worry me half as much as any other kind of throwing up...I a semi-bulimic myself, in fact...I'm an alcoholic and I use the purging to avoid alcohol poisoning. I don't care about throwing up anything anything as long as it's water or clear liquid (I'll only drink vodka rum or white wine as I cannot stand the idea of V-ing anything else.

I actually base all my meals on what they would look like if they were regurgitated...which has lead to chronic malnutrition. I even became a vegetarian because my first ever time I can remember throwing up involved undercooked meat.
And I have the morbid fascination of examining sick at bus stops to determine it's contents so as I can avoid those foods.

I can think of a multitude of reasons why I have this phobia...the first being that I was born with a hernia and extreme sickness...I can't remember it but it must be lodged in my sub-consciencious. Then, my sister was born...with the same problems and I was surrounded by V* for years...and my sister screaming in pain from it and my mother cursing her. Then my brother was born...who I hated and still hate because he was the instant favourite and he threw up on my when he was a toddler and I was so horrfied.
From then on it was because I was constantly sick or surrounded by sick siblings...also we were pretty poor and couldn't afford my food...my dad thought us kids wasted it and used to pinch my nose and force food down my throat and make me gag. Then I stopped eating through fear and got force-fed even more. Everyone thought at home thought I was anorexic and everyone outside thought I was a neglected child (I was beaten viciously from a young age)...people gave me such a complex about weight that when I was 14 I did actually become anorexic. I did partly have an eating disorder and I was happy because it was the perfect disguise from my phobia and I also had people telling me I slim and had a great body and I was handsome...which fed my ego and made me want to eat less...also...I learned through a preceeding episode of 'bulimia as punishment' that i could not be sick on an empty stomach even if i wanted to...so I felt completely safe.....
Until one day i got appendicitis and the doctor asked me if i'd throw up and I said "Can't have...haven't eat in a week"...and then she gave me the hideous news that you CAN and it would be a thouand times more gross and painful...from that day I felt i had NO escape!
I started getting panic attacks in school and i wouldnt even drink anything apart from water, i wouldnt do sports anymore incase the motion made me queasy and (for some reason)became convinced asprins would prevent me from vomiting (as they would fight fever sna diseases)...and i took so many of them...(accoumpanied with alcohol for the anxiety) I ended up with ulcers...which made me nauseous ever day...so bad that I'd cry and cry and I'd be in the bathroom 16 hours a day and I even tried to hang myself and slit my wrists because the fear of throwing up was so bad...I just couldn't take it. I BEGGED my doctor for anti-V-ing pills...but he wouldnt give me a