I just finished a book titled Butterfly Dreams, whose main character I related to so very well. Of course, the details were nothing like my life, but the phobia this person had could have been mine.
She had spent most of her adult life telling herself she had a life threatening problem. Every time she felt the least bit odd she talked herself into believing that was a sign that something horrible was about to happen to her. She went so far as to believe that she would have a heart attack and die.
Although I don’t go quite that far, I have believed on more than one occasion that I would end up in the hospital or be alone with no help in sight. I guess it goes along with a lifetime problem of abandonment issues. I am really not quite sure where that came from but it sucks. To believe that nobody cares is not a pleasant way to live a life.
I had trouble finishing this book after I saw myself in the story, but I did because I wanted to know how the story ended. She did finally connect with a man who actually did have a life threatening heart problem. He turned out to be a wonderful role model, teaching her to live each day to the fullest and ignore what her brain was telling her. Her fear was unfounded as every medical test she had proved there was nothing physically wrong with her.
I believe sometimes we grow up believing that we deserve the worst instead of the best the universe has to offer. The cause often begins with a negative parent, constantly fueling the flame. It sometimes takes a very strong positive person to convince us otherwise.
Apparently I haven’t connected with that person yet, but I am still here so perhaps there is time.