Severe hypochondria. I have a strong fear of death and often feel like I’m dying.

I’ve been dealing with intrusive feelings of impending doom for at least fifteen years now. My OCD will take any flimsy excuse to convince me that I’ve been infected with any number of horrible deadly diseases, and there’s nothing for me to do other than wait for it to happen.

I’m terrified of death. I’m terrified of not existing anymore. To never see my friends again, or do the things I love. The OCD knows this as well as I do, and it uses that against me as best as it can.

As I’m writing this I’m experiencing one of these “Doom Cycles” now. Logic doesn’t help. Reassurance from loved ones only takes me so far. Each time it happens it feels so real. I’m afraid of planning for the future because it feels like tempting fate. Even writing this post for The Wall scares me, because if it turns out to be real this time, it would make this the last thing I ever write.

OCD is an abusive hostage keeper in the guise of a protector. It keeps me so afraid of dying that it never lets me really live.