My name is Lewis and I am emetophobic. I am also miserable 90% of the
time lately even though I have a beautiful and wonderful wife, great
job and nice home. I need for this to stop.
When I was in the forth grade, I v* during a fire drill in front of the
whole school. The kids were merciless. After that, I developed a phobia
of v* and some underlying OCD symptoms (similar to those that many of
you have described) quickly came into play.
The phobia tapered off significantly through high school, college and
my early 20s. About a year ago, after a beautiful dinner with my
now-wife, we came home and I had d* and n*. We suspected food poisoning
and my emetophobia resurfaced with a vengeance. I did not v* but felt
as though I would.
It's been like that for the past year, with varying degrees of
severity, and it's getting worse every day. I have what I think must be
IBS. After meals, I get extremely bloated (pants no longer fit) and
that bloating often makes me feel n* or queasy. About 20% of the time,
the discomfort and n* is so severe that I have a full-fledged panic
attack.
This has affected my life in terrible ways. I typically travel
70-80,000 miles per year for business by plane. My emetophobia has given rise to
claustrophobia and even a fear of flying, after my last few plane trips
culminated in a n* panic attack. I've since had to switch jobs, but some amount of travel is still required.
Pepto-Bismol is a close companion, to the point where it has stained
some of my dental work. I have Meclizine on hand, but take it only
during the severest of panic attacks because it renders me useless for
the rest of the day.
Lately I've taken to waking up in the middle of the night with
bloating, n* and di*. Then turns into a panic attack. Is the di* simply
a result of the panic attack? I don't know.
What kills me, more than anything else, is what this is doing to my
wife. She has the patience of a saint. She just keeps reassuring me
that I will not v* but I think - no, I know</span>,
that she is getting tired of it. Yesterday she came home from work
saying her tummy was unsettled and that two co-workers had sv's. I
about died right there. I went through the "did you share drinks with
them, share close quarters with them, etc." business with her and she
said "you're a freak, you care more about v* than you do about having
sympathy for me." I love her more than anything in the world, but this
phobia now runs my life. She is worried that I won't take care of our
(as of yet unborn!) children when they get sick.
I want it to end - now. I must seem like a crazy person - ginger,
emetrol, pepto, meclizine, marezine, peppermint, teas, fennel seeds,
and other emetophobic paraphernalia never leave my side. I am now
petrified of flying- something I used to LOVE to do. There always needs
to be a receptacle nearby. You know the drill.
What I am obsessing over now is the fear that one day it won't simply be IBS-related bloating, it will</span>
be something, and all of my anti-emetics won't stop me from v*. It's
gone from a bad experience to a fear to a phobia to an obsession, and I
need it to end.
Not so much for me, but for my wife - I can't keep doing this to her.
When it comes to ANYTHING else, I am her he-man. Burglar? Bring it on.
Kitchen's on fire? Check. Guy looks at her the wrong way on the street?
No problem. But a little twinge in the tummy - forgetaboutit.
Thanks in advance for any advice or assistance.
Edited by: lewisr
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Originally Posted by princessmel
