I know mental illnesses manifest themselves in different ways in everyone. This is my personal suffering, experiences, and triumphs with this particular illness.

Disclaimer * I am completely aware and know that there are several illnesses, both physical and mental, and that they do not always go away by just praying them away. I am not discrediting medical and mental health assistance in the slightest. Healing can be a very slow process of recovery and I totally acknowledge and respect this. *

I was about to go to sleep, and, as per usual in that day, about to go into one of my hypochondria spells.

You know, the ones where attention-seeking people make up ailments in order to get people to pay attention to them?

NO! That’s NOT hypochondria. This is more like it:

I sat in bed and felt myself slipping into the hyper-awareness mode. I was always hyper-analyzing my pulse, twinges in headaches, and any slight changes in breathing (all of this especially at night) and attributing it to some type of cancer, fatal infection, tumor, and/or organ shut-down.

I knew it was crazy to think so, but at the same time, I thought I was going to die, that I had somehow contracted stage-4 cancer over the course of the day. And I knew it was crazy to think so, but I couldn’t stop my mind from jumping to irrational conclusions.

And if you think I made this up, I didn’t. My mind was just so wound up in this toxic thinking. I dreaded going to sleep—and therefore got terrible sleep for 6 years—believing I wasn’t going to make it through the night.

I thought if I stayed up and worried about it enough, I could will whatever I thought was happening to me to stop. If I were to stop worrying and rid myself of hypochondriac thoughts, I would die, right? Worrying meant I had a greater chance to stop these things from killing me.

I won’t go into all the places my mind went to because quite frankly, hypochondria freak-outs are still embarrassing for me to talk about and there is quite a stigma around hypochondria in our society. Hardly anyone actually cares to understand it, and to me, it’s still hard to talk about.

It wasn’t until 6 years into this ordeal that I finally realized what I had. I was sitting in my Psychology class in college, freshman year, and we were learning about mental disorders. We got to Hypochondria. As the Professor was explaining it, I almost cried at my desk, finally coming to realize that what I had been struggling with actually had a name.

It didn’t get better though. The label was only a slight comfort.

“HYPOCHONDRIAC”

Whoo, that was me. I had a label I could claim as my own. Something to blame these crazy thoughts on.

It started coming in waves—some parts of the year I’d have episodes nightly, then other times it was much calmer, and then suddenly it would spike back up again, and I would lie in bed for hours wondering if this was the night I would die.

Through all those years, I never once wondered to ask God about it. It had become so much a part of me, I didn’t recognize it fully as a weed in my life that was inhibiting me from actually growing and flourishing.

I was so embarrassed by it. I told only a couple of close family members and friends, but only kept it at a surface level and just laughed it off. I didn’t want to face it. And I didn’t face God about it.

I had been getting serious about my relationship with God, when one night I was sitting in bed just kind of meditating, and 3 things struck me:

Hypochondria is based in some sort of fear.

Hypochondria is about me thinking I can worry about something so hard to stop it from happening (pretty much trying to become my own god).

And fear and love can’t exist in the same place.

I realized that if I wanted to fully experience God’s love and fully show Him my love for him, any fear was gonna have to hit the road.

Including hypochondria.

I had never felt such an instant urge to immediately start praying before. I told God I no longer wanted whatever this hypochondria was to keep me from being close to him. I asked him that, if it was His will, to take the hypochondria away.

I could feel my body relax, and I kind of heard my mind go, well heck yes, that wasn’t so hard letting go of this, was it? and I knew God had removed it. And I just started smiling. It made sense.

For an issue in which I was so wound up in confusion, toxic cyclical-thoughts, and worry, for my mind to suddenly relax and feel peace after years of turmoil, was an incredible sensation.

I still struggle with it at points, but in mild forms, and I no longer fall asleep afraid of dying. God saved me from continuing to suffer with hypochondria, and for that I am so incredibly grateful.

I hope this encourages someone else out there with hypochondria to reach out and realize its not something to be embarrassed or ashamed about. It's okay to talk about it.

*again, I am not saying that physical and mental struggles can go away immediately. Please ask for professional assistance if you are struggling with something!