Webster defines a hypochondriac as “a person who is often or always worried about being ill.”
When I first saw the word “hypochondriac” I already knew I had it. I mean, the word itself is scary and I’m prone to bad luck.
Just the thought of having it has me feeling even worse about having it. And after rereading the definition, I am again convinced that I likely need an evaluation.
Since I’m attempting honesty with this blog, i’ll go ahead and tell you something that you may have already decided– I’m a little nuts. I’m the person that sees a commercial about the flu and then diagnoses myself with the flu. I’m the person afraid of somehow contracting Ebola– even though I’m securely in the United States. The word “Ebola” itself sends shivers up my spine.
What’s even worse is when I start diagnosing others. I was dating this guy once and I convinced him that he was dying of a disease. So much so that he went to the hospital… where the doctor laughed in his face because the disease I diagnosed him with isn’t even prevalent in today’s society. And although I knew that before he even went, I felt he was better safe than sorry. He didn’t find me charming as the doctor escorted him on his way with a $100 hospital bill.
I’m going to now end this blog prematurely so that I can properly research my sudden fatigue. Maybe I just need a nap. Maybe not.