Do you ever get deathly afraid
of your heart exploding?
Maybe you haven't felt like yourself
and you worry maybe you're nearing your end.
You sit up at night thinking about
this phantom illness that chills you.
You crank the heat, but you shiver in fear
at the thought of leaving this world.
In times of sadness, you thought
it might be okay to be dead.
That in comparison to the suffering
darkness would make it all okay.
But as you think this sudden change
could by some percentile mean your death.
You long for all the years ahead of you
and shed tears for your children you'll never meet.
You cry in terror until finally spared by sleep,
and maybe feel better when you awake.
You may even get some long-term relief
by way of some doctor assuring you that you're fine.
But it will only be a matter of time
before your anxiety convinces you yet again
that you are not long for this world.
And you feel stupid
for essentially worrying over nothing.
But you do hope with all of your being
in spite of past suicidal thoughts
in spite of the heartache you've experienced...

You hope with all of your being
that you might just manage to live a long, happy life.

Health anxiety.

You google one thing and it says another.

You have a headache and it says its cancer.

Countless trips to your family doctor.

The test was negative, you will recover.

Everything is fine but you’re feeling awkward.

Maybe everything IS fine, perhaps you’re like an actor.

Acting out the symptoms you should get an oscar.

Sue me for feeling like somethings not right, get me a lawyer.

To everyone around me, i’m like a destroyer.

I need to rebuild my life from being an over reactor.

Theres a fine line between normal worry and anxiety.

Theres a fine line between being labelled from society.

Theres a fine line between being sick and being healthy.

But even those who are wealthy are not protected from being unhealthy.

And thats where this fear has developed.

Knowing the highest of classes still are not protected.

CEO’s can get cancer.

The president can get Alzheimer's.

Investors can get tumors.

Is it really so peculiar that I fear that this will occur.

Occur in me? Effect my family? Increase mortality?

Maybe i’m not a clinical case of a hypochondriac, but I feel that sometimes I can be.

Maybe i’m not a maniac, but I know I over worry.

These thoughts don’t keep me up at night, but when I’m sick I always think...

What if its this, what if its that, what if this thing can **** me.

But I guess thats just normal anxiety.

Evolutionary instinct.

Our human kind won’t go extinct.

I don’t need to talk this out with a shrink.

So this cold is lasting more than a few days, maybe i’ll just go to a doctor.

Stop fearing that this is the end, see someone and you’ll feel better.

You can get sick from being stressed, or even change from weather.

Its not strange if you catch a cold, no need to worry it won’t last forever.

When you feel like the doctor is wrong, please try to remember.

A runny nose isn’t cancer, forgetting to check the mail isn't alzheimers, and a headache isn’t a tumor.

Those are all just internet rumours.

Google isn’t your doctor.

Worrying isn’t hypochondria, no need to add that to your self diagnoses list.

While disease is a real thing, worrying is the real *****.

Living a hypochondriacs dream,
Because my pain is one that is real.

Everyone says I'm fine,
But I know my own body because my body is mine,
Life developing as a double exposure,
In two places at once and contained in a tight enclosure,
Here I am with no sense of closure,

I will dream of running away,
Throwing my possessions away,
Put my worry to rest,
Before I am the one put to rest.

I had a little headache yesterday
But "little" headaches leave me in ill humor
because I know (and very often say:)
"I don't get headaches! It must be a tumor!"

When I get aches, it fills me with misgiving.
For any symptom, even though it's vague,
I've known this much: as long as I've been living:
Each little pain must be bubonic plague.

I never had a tiny ailment yet
But I was sure was going to cause my death,
And every case of pimples that I get
will shortly make me end up like Macbeth.

A doctor said the malady I fight is
Called terminal acute dramaticitis

dag 11/10/2013

Everyone is high
On self pity and
Hate
Self diagnosed with
A terrible
Fate
No one knows
How to be sad
Without writing it off
As extraordinarily bad
Happiness isn't
A permanent gig
It's always there
If you bother to dig
Everyone is sad
Because the world is ****** up
And no one dares
To see the good stuff
A world of pessimism
Breeds angry babes
And they all start to believe
Theres no Other way
So load up on drugs
Get high in the rest
Because that's when the world
Looks its ******* best
No one was taught
How to smile
Despite the world
Looking dark for a while
So we all slit our wrists
And demand sympathy
From a world that never cared
If you were down on your knees

Paranoia.
Explain it to me.
Help me understand the fear that lies within me.
Why I suddenly feel that my candle of life,
Is quickly burning away at both ends of the stick.

The fear, the fear.
It continues to grow.
From the seeds of paranoia that I personally sow.
Is it all in my head, or is the danger really there?
None the less, the uncertainty is what I cannot bear.

Every cigarette I've had.
Every time my throat aches.
There is no medication for regrets and mistakes.
Ignoring the warnings does not make them untrue.
Being ignorant can only lead to the downfall of you.

Diabetes or Cancer?
Malignant or Benign?
Everyone tells me that I'm, *probably fine.
But they don't understand that the battle inside,
Is convincing myself that it's all in my head.

It's nothing. It's nothing.
Miguel, you're okay.
These are the mantras that I repeat every day.
To myself in my head, or out loud when alone.
Hoping that one day my health will atone.