I just joined and felt like telling my story. I kinda sucks.

I've had emetophobia since I was a little girl. I didn't know until recent years that it was actually a real phobia, I'd never thought too much about it. Before, for me, it was the fear of others getting sick around me, or saying they would be sick around me, and for the most part I coped with it. I didn't want to go on planes or roller coasters because of the fear, but that was only a mild bummer for me. I was never afraid of getting sick myself, because I wasn't the kind of person who throws up (I thought to myself)

A few months ago I threw up for the first time in ten years. It was horrible, I was in a lot of pain, having horrible anxiety all night long. In the morning I felt better, tried to eat some soup... but I felt horrible again, I was in pain and miserable and full of anxiety. This went on for a while, often times I'd spend the entire day curled up next to the toilet, shivering on the cold floor because I was scared. I ended up going to the ER many many times after this. Most of the time they couldn't do much for me, at first it was just a mild stomach bug after all, but when the symptoms didn't stop I ended up coming back more and more often. I was constantly having panic attacks from nausea and all they could do for me at the hospital was give me anxiety meds and anti-nausea meds, which didn't last for long. Eventually I became suicidal (I have been dealing with depression and anxiety long before this all happened) and ended up spending a week in a mental hospital.
Not only was I constantly anxious and nausea even with medications, but I was in horrible pain. I didn't eat a meal for an entire week. I was so hungry and in so much pain.

Now here comes the kicker.
They told me it was mild gastritis and some disorder where you think you're sick, so your body makes you sick (I forgot the name of it). Basically telling me that most of my pain was all in my head.

If only.

I started eating slightly before leaving the hospital, the pain had lessened and I felt a bit better for a few days. Then I went down hill again, couldn't eat because of the pain and constant nausea. Then I got a bit better. Then I got worse again. Continuing the cycle for a while (mainly staying alive by drinking 1 nutritional drink a day because it was all I could STAND) before I stopped eating entirely. While this was going on I was getting tests done because clearly there was something else wrong with me. The final day of my horrible TWO MONTHS of suffering came to an end in a weird way. I had test done that day called a HIDA scan. It was to test my gallbladder and see if it was working properly. It was not. But I didn't find this out right away, I found it out later the next morning in the emergency room after having at least two bags of fluids pumped into me via IV.
After the test had been done I'd gone home. I was fine, at first, but ended up having some pretty watery BMs. As in, like, all the water in my body was slowly draining from me (It's most likely due to the drugs from the test and the fact that I was indeed very sick.)
I was severely dehydrated.
I spent hours in the ER, slipping in and out of sleep restlessly.
I was there from early night to early morning the next day.
I cried when I learned my test results...
Because I was so HAPPY.
It wasn't all in my head. The morning shift ER doctor got the results of my HIDA scan. My gallbladder was not functioning correctly (later I learned it was about at 14 percent when anything under 40 is bad) and they were going to do surgery to get it out THAT DAY. I was so happy. I wanted it out, I was so miserable and in so much pain.
Surgery went fine.
Afterwards I was better... but not exactly well.
I didn't take pain meds for fear of nausea, and it was still hard to eat sometimes. Had ups and downs for a while and I've been seeing a specialist for my stomach for a while. I had another few trips to the ER for panic attacks until I was prescribed anxiety meds (In the same class as xanex and valium) which helped A GREAT DEAL.
Thankfully for me while my family doctor refused to give me any more nausea medication, my gastro-specialist seemed to understand that it was more important to have it lest I keep suffering.

And that leads to where I am now. I'm still on medication. I'm healing still. I still have really bad ups and downs, and my emetophobia has basically intensified and become a constant in my life since the first time I got sick.


Where I'm at now is the worry that because I've been less nauseated and handling things a bit better now, that my doctor will take away my anti-nausea medication. And the fact that I'm afraid of that also makes me very sad. This particular drug cannot make you become addicted physically (I've looked it up many times) and is actually very harmless, but if I no longer have a physical need for it he might stop filling it. I know eventually it will happen, but I wish it didn't have to... It's like a security blanket for me, even if I don't use it every day, or if I don't need it for a long time, the fact that I have it and essentially could prevent myself from being sick by taking it should the need arise makes it something I don't want to give up. I'm currently in therapy and have been for a while, I plan to bring this up sometime, but have simply not gotten around to it yet.

To me, emetophobia is a constant, only held back by staying where I feel safe or by taking medication when I have to go out.
It's hard to deal with, which is why I decided to join this forum. I thought that maybe just typing out my story would make me feel a bit better.