‘I am a hypochondriac and this time is hell for me’

Liselore (25) is terrified of getting sick. She has always been that way. Combined with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), this makes life absolutely no fun for her since corona.

‘For years I have been in therapy for this ‘problem’, with limited progress. Sometimes it goes a step forward, but before I know it, I take five steps back. It is really a difficult illness, as it evokes so much misunderstanding in people. And it isolates me enormously: I already find it difficult to interact with people, but at the same time, I miss the contact. Fortunately, I can talk a lot about it online with people.

I was already an anxious child. I didn’t like playing outside and was very picky with my toys. I didn’t want to play with other children, let alone touch their toys. When it came to tag or hide and seek, I was on the sidelines. My parents initially thought I was just a bit shy and that I perhaps didn’t really know how to express myself, but when I was seven, they took me to the doctor for the first time.

At home, I was becoming increasingly unmanageable. They never said it, but I think my parents really thought I was just being dramatic. If a fork fell on the ground and they put it back on my plate, I would be in complete panic for the rest of the evening. Everything had to be done my way. Walking up the stairs, I had a specific way of doing it. If that went wrong, or I encountered someone coming down, I had to start over.

I was referred to a psychologist who quickly diagnosed me with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. For my parents, it was a relief: now they knew what was wrong with me. But unfortunately, there wasn’t really a medication for it… Except for therapy. Quite intense, to go into therapy as a young girl.

The compulsions I had made me always exhausted. I had to count everything, wash my hands obsessively, double-check everything, and constantly be in fear if I didn’t have my compulsions under control. Which only made it worse. Even then, I had few friends; they thought I was just weird.

Around the age of fourteen, something changed. I became increasingly anxious, so afraid that something was wrong. This happened when I got a severe throat infection. I was in so much pain and was completely convinced it would mean my end. Completely unreasonable, and I know that, but I really felt that way. When I recovered from that, I promised myself I would never be that sick again.

And since then, I have been living in fear, for over ten years now. I am now a regular at my GP and the emergency room. Two years ago, I fell off my bike and was convinced that my elbow was shattered. I could list dozens of things like that. I only feel a bit reassured when a doctor tells me that I am physically healthy, but as soon as I step outside again, that fear starts again.

The coronavirus is hell for me. I live in Amsterdam and have locked myself away as much as I could. I had groceries delivered, but that didn’t always go well. I would misjudge it and end up without food. Living on water and bread was really the only option then, because going outside, I really couldn’t do that.

Those tests are no fun, but I HAVE to get tested if I’ve been outside. And after that test, I spend two days in panic, full of anxiety attacks at home. I have it. I know for sure. I can’t even do my work anymore because that fear has taken over my whole life. I can go to the psychologist, but just the thought of it makes me terrified. I now speak to them online and by phone.

I really hope that I will someday be free from this, or at least that it will become less. That I can live with it and have a social life. A year ago, I genuinely felt like I was heading in that direction… And now I am back to square one. Or even further back, as far as that goes.’

In this unusual time, we asked people to share their honest story. To avoid hurting others, the name of Liselore has been changed.