Living with Hypochondria
I had a sudden urge to clean the windows a few Sundays ago. The previous tenant clearly didn’t have cleanliness high on her agenda so they were left needing a dab hand of TLC.
Mould spray at the ready, I tuned into my favourite podcast and got scrubbing.
As I tried to subside a cloud of doubt that I’d inhaled hazardous chemical air, Normal People’s Daisy Edgar-Jones began speaking of her health anxieties.
Like every twenty to thirty to everyone something, I was consumed by the recent adaptation of Sally Rooney’s second novel. Marianne and Connell’s quietly powerful love story (played by Daisy and co-star Paul Mescal) is one that has put a fresh stamp on onscreen relationships. Naturally, I couldn’t wait to hear Daisy tell-all on the latest episode of ‘How to Fail’ With Elizabeth Day.
“When I was 15 we learnt about something called hyperhidrosis which happens when you drink too much water. I remember learning that and thinking it was interesting, then I got on the tube coming back from an audition and drank a big bottle of water. That night I fully convinced myself I had hyperhidrosis!” Daisy said. “It is just that placebo effect where if you imagine stuff enough you start to feel it.”
In a moment of serendipity, my unjustified fears that I’d poisoned my lungs with mould remover evaporated. Here was the nation’s new favourite actress speaking of my exact same inner qualms.
For much of my life, I’ve suffered from anxiety. Eczema. Pins and needles. Overwhelming emotions. It’s come out in various forms. However, in the last six months, I’ve experienced a continuous wave of hypochondriasis. In other words - excessive worrying about being or becoming ill.
It all started with some slightly undercooked chicken.
After a rather sleepless night and an afternoon spent over a hot stove, I sat down to what I hoped would be a delicious Sunday lunch.
Within minutes I was suffering from a racing heartbeat, sweaty palms and shortness of breath. What sounds like the setting for a steamy sex scene is sadly far from it. This ultra-fun combo is in fact just three of the countless symptoms produced in response to what my brain thinks is a life-threatening situation.
My inner monologue told me I was having a reaction. That I was going to pass out. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I might take my boyfriend and mother-in-law down with me.
Over the next hour, this progressed into a stomach-twisting, tear-jerking, mum-calling, fully escalated panic attack. The last ounce of which didn’t leave until I danced it out the next evening.
Since then I’ve experienced a handful more episodes. Convincing myself I’d have a sandwich related allergy attack amidst commuters. Believing I’d pass out from a migraine into a bowl of spicy buffalo wings. Panicking that the sensation of toothache numbing gel was actually my throat swelling up. (This, however, ended with a bout of giggles after my boyfriend purposely numbed his tongue - a successful attempt to comfort me).
It sounds ridiculous even writing these experiences down. And until I heard Daisy’s interview I thought I was completely alone, stuck in a pattern of terrifying and equally embarrassing behaviour that might well lead to me losing my mind.
So why does it happen?
According to Harvard Medical School, health anxiety affects 4-5% of people but in reality, experts believe it's closer to 12%. Of course, there are varying levels. Many of us think of a hypochondriac as someone who challenges negative medical results, insists on regular testing and seeks no comfort in expert reassurance. But there are also those that go about their daily life, secretly convinced they have a life-threatening disease but too afraid to do anything about it. And there are those like myself who panic over potential causes of an illness or a symptom being more serious than it is.
In her interview with Elizabeth Day, Daisy Edgar-Jones spoke of it as a method of exercising control.
“If I see a rash, for example, and I really overthink it and Google the heck out of it then I’m controlling it in some way. If I find out it's something really sinister, then I’ve potentially caught it before it comes something worse so I get obsessive over certain things.”
After sadly suffering more than her fair share of mortality and hospital visits at a young age, Daisy admits her hypochondria lies with a fear of becoming ill which reveals itself when she feels anxious.
Much like Daisy, there doesn’t seem to be a pattern in my experiences; apart from that, I'm clearly stressed when they happen. One night I can be munching down Malteasers happy as a clam and the next… I’m convinced I’m allergic and will soon be gasping for air.
I’ve come to the realisation that the escalation from the acknowledgement of a funny feeling to an uncontrollable panic stems from a deep-down distress of not being able to breathe. Not being in control. And to put it brashly - dying.
Clearly none of us are cool with these things. But the overly anxious Inside Out character in my brain has gradually gained the power to silence out all rationalities. If it thinks no one will be around to help me - the alarm bells siren.
I sought out online therapy, focused on my breathing and followed the 5-4-3-2-1 technique - a method I highly recommend for anyone who suffers from panic or anxiety attacks.
But then, a global health pandemic happened.
Despite having been inside for a full week before Boris grounded us all to our homes, on the night of the first announcement I went into a state of hyperventilation. What would happen if my life needed saving? Hospitals, full. A lack of emergency services. Even strangers can’t go within two metres of each other so they’re definitely not going to be dishing out the kiss of life.
For those first few weeks of lockdown, I experienced headaches, sinus pains, a scratchy throat and even the dreaded cough whenever I stepped outside. Only for it to completely disappear within a matter of hours. I ignored the attention-seeking commentator inside my mind who tried to convince me I had the virus until finally, I confided in my people.
“YES!” they said. “We get it too!” It was then that I first realised I wasn’t alone. With a heightened sense of vulnerability, even the most confident were experiencing health anxiety. What could be more obvious to our fretting brains than phantom Corona?
These days I’m able to squash my inner panicky Pauline. She pops up with her OTT worries more regularly than I’d ever like to admit. But I’ve found the ability to tell her to get lost too.
When asked by Elizabeth how she handled her hypochondria, Daisy spoke of challenging rationalities and accepting that it's her brain’s way of coping with anxiety. She now restricts herself from search engine symptom checking although accepts it will still come in waves and is something to be managed.
After months of feeling alone with this escalating anxiety, I somewhat felt comforted. A lick of white paint later both my windows and I could see much more clearly. It might not go away for good. I might always be that bit more aware of aches and pains. But at least it was justified. Thanks to Daisy’s vulnerable honesty, I felt more like a normal person.
If you suffer from hypochondria or are experiencing bouts of health anxiety, I highly recommend listening to Daisy’s episode on How to Fail with Elizabeth Day here.
Written by Eppie Shepherd
Eppie is a freelance copywriter and digital marketer in South London, where she lives with her boyfriend and miniature panther, Matilda T-Rex. She is as obsessed with words as she is with anything described as cheesy and is rarely seen without a book on her person.