"I lied to my family about where I was going" - Rebecca's story

Rebecca shares her experience living with health anxiety, recounting her worst episodes. She praises the support from therapy, support groups and Rethink Mental Illness’ Advice and Information Service.

Health anxiety has always been a quiet passenger in my life lingering in the background, whispering “what ifs” and worst-case scenarios. But I never truly understood the weight of it until it began to take over.

When my son was born in 2014, I was convinced he wouldn’t make it home alive. The nurses had to turn all the monitors away from me because I couldn’t stop obsessing over every beep, every number. I was terrified and it was more than just new-mum nerves. Medication helped at the time, but that was just one chapter.

Fast forward to 2024 and my world turned upside down again. My sister was diagnosed with a brain tumour. At that moment, something inside me changed. I became a machine. I didn’t eat or sleep. I was terrified to leave her, convinced that if I wasn’t there, something awful would happen. Thankfully, my sister recovered. But as she began to heal, my own battle began.

Everything I suppressed during her illness came crashing down on me. The adrenaline faded and in came overwhelming panic. It started with something I’ve had for years — acid reflux. But this time, I was sure it was stomach cancer. I fell deep into the rabbit hole of Google, searching symptoms, joining stomach cancer support groups, comparing my story to the stories of strangers online.

I became dissociated from everything — my children, friends, partner. I was physically present, but mentally somewhere else. I couldn't enjoy the little things anymore. My body was in survival mode. This is what health anxiety does. It hijacks your thoughts. It convinces you that you're seconds away from catastrophe. The fear is louder than logic.

Things got worse before they got better. I started making numerous visits to A&E. Not just because I believed I was seriously ill, but because the anxiety symptoms were so intense: stomach pain, aching limbs, shooting pains, terrifying and sudden panic attacks. I was convinced each one was a heart attack, a clot, something life-threatening.

I lied to my family about where I was going. I didn’t want them to know how bad it had become. I just needed to be in A&E. That’s the strangest part. A&E — a place that normally terrifies me with its bright lights, long waits, smell and uncertainty — became the place I felt the safest. It was the only place where someone would take me seriously and tell me I was okay.

Health anxiety isn’t just “worrying too much”. It’s a constant, exhausting, all-consuming fear that takes over your body and mind. It convinces you that every ache is a warning, every flutter in your chest a ticking clock.

My friends didn’t know what to say or how to help. I remember one moment so clearly — my best friend of seven years looking at me with complete dismay after a doctor reassured me I was fit and well. She wanted to believe that was the end of it. But I didn’t believe the doctor. The fear was louder.

I’d call my parents almost every night, panicking about a new symptom. I became obsessed with checking myself for lumps or pains, to the point that I gave myself bruises from poking and prodding. I needed to find something, because that would mean the fear was valid.

Eventually, I knew something had to change. The look the doctors gave me after numerous visits scared me. They were now concerned about my wellbeing. In that moment I thought about my two children who I had to protect.

I started seeing a therapist. I began joining support groups — the RIGHT ones this time — with people who understood what I was going through. Slowly, the anxiety began to fade. Not disappear entirely but become less intrusive. I started to reconnect with life again. I could be present with my children, laugh with my partner, message a friend without a health fear behind it. A little spark of “Becky” came back.

Now, a year later, I know that the demon of health anxiety will probably always be there in some form. But I’ve built a toolbox of support: therapy, breathwork, journaling, mindfulness, limiting how much I Google research, reaching out when the spiral starts. I often used Rethink’s self-help guide for panic attacks, in fact I printed this and would go over the strategies each time I felt panicked. Slowly the panic attacks started becoming less frequent and when they did happen, I could control them better.

I share this not because I have it all figured out, but because I know how dark and lonely it can feel. If you’re in that place, please know you’re not alone. There is a way through. It’s not quick or easy, but healing is possible. You are not broken, you’re just overwhelmed, and overwhelmed people deserve care, not shame.