You've probably read heaps of threads like these, I know that, it's just that it's late at night and I'm all on my own and I really need to spell out my feelings and just get them written down somewhere. You don't have to read this, but thanks so much if you want to - it means a lot, as I struggle, like all of you, with this phobia every single hour of each day at the moment.

It all started back when I was starting primary school. A girl, a bully in the year above, was sick in front of me in choir practice. The staff reacted very badly and everything was a bit hectic immediately afterward. I can remember my knees shaking and feeling like I was about to burst into tears - I was only about 5 at the time. The following month was the Golden Jubilee and we had a big party at our school to celebrate. There was this bright blue cake and my friend ate too much and was sick opposite me. I stopped eating and started feeling sick myself.

I stopped eating completely at school after that incident. I was convinced that if I didn't eat anything - there was no way I could be sick. I became very thin and I can remember my mother being really worried. I went on a skiing holiday and I think I kind of ruined it for everybody with my constant panicking and fasting. I still feel very guilty, even though I must have only been about 6 years old.

During my early childhood, I was sick 5 times. Each time it was just something I'd eaten or a school "tummy bug." I used to get scared every time I felt ill, or if my younger sister said she felt sick. I remember being a right pain in the neck for my family. Eventually, my mum took me to see a psychiatrist at the hospital. It was a frightening experience.

The phobia vanished for a couple of years, I'm relieved to say. I didn't like throwing up, or seeing other people throw up or anything related to it, but I didn't worry about it all the time. My family and I moved to Tasmania and I was fine with that. It was only when we were returning to England a couple of years later, that I had my first panic attack and realized I was petrified of vomiting. I remember ringing my mum from my friend's house begging her to come and pick me up because I "felt sick." I refused to go into school for the final month and stayed at home suffering numerous panic attacks and starving myself. Nobody at school knew what was up with me, I was embarrassed.

I returned home to England and didn't go to school for a good couple of months. Eventually, I had to attend the local high school - that was a disaster. I didn't like that school in the first place. I went in for the first day and had a terrible time. I had horrible panic attacks, felt sick and felt awfully lonely. I didn't go in the next day at all. Mum went into see the Headmaster and it was mortifying as I explained to him about my anxiety and sickness phobia. He wasn't sympathetic and this just made things worse. I hardly went into that school - just for a couple of hours a day.

Mum decided I should go to a new school - a fresh start at the grammar school. I had to do the exam to get in - I was so nervous. But I passed. The first few days were uncomfortable and frightening - they always are, but for me, I felt sick as well. I'm sure you know how I felt. I did a gradual introduction, whereby I went into school for half an hour one day, an hour the next and so on. It was very difficult, but in the end, I was going to school like a normal 13 year old. My mum bought me a rabbit, called Winston, and he meant so much to me. He was my best friend and he was always there when I was crying or panicking. He was an amazing friend during that tough time.

I thought things were getting better. I could go on school trips and clubs and have a laugh with my new friends. Things were a lot better for two whole years, but then, in January this year, Winston died and I suffered from depression. Initially, I was sad because Winnie had died, but then it became just sadness about nothing in particular. I'd wake up in the morning and cry, do nothing all day and then cry myself to sleep. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't sad for a reason, just sad because I was sad. It was horrible and my heart goes out to anyone who is suffering with it at the moment. It is the most disgusting feeling. So, I stopped going to school, didn't tell my friends what was the matter with me and just got worse. I started worrying about being sick again. It was awful.

So, now, I'm still stuck in this rut. I'm 15 years old and feel very sick all the time. I'm so worried I'll be sick. My father is unkind about my issues, he shouts at me, we argue, he tells me I'm being selfish and pathetic. My mother is worried sick and I can't do anything about it. My sister is disowning me, I embarrass her. I can't sleep until 5 in the morning most nights. I lie awake worrying that I'll be sick. I go and wake mum up and tell her that I feel sick and that I'm panicking, but she ignores me and my father shouts at me and slams the door in my face. I cry a lot. I don't eat much and I've only just recently managed to drink water from the tap. I'm suspicious of everything I eat. I check sell-by dates religiously and don't eat anything that is not fresh. I eat about one meal a day, and even that is junk food. I can't drink that much as I am worried about contaminated water, which I know is unlikely in England. I don't go to school at the moment and I feel sad and worried and sick most of the time. It's awful. I don't know what to do anymore.