What is an Anxiety?

So, it's ok if I am vomiting bile?

I have been the proud owner of an anxiety problem since I was old enough to think abstractly. Those cyclical thoughts - "I need money, I don't have money, I need money" - have been a good friend of mine since I've been on my own. When I was a kid, it was probably more like - "I want a Milky Way Bar, I don't have a Milky Way Bar, I need a Milky Way Bar."

Anxiety over money is easy to talk yourself out of.

1) I have none.
2) I am not a stone.
3) Even if I were, you couldn't squeeze coins, blood, water, mucus, etc. out of me.
4) If all else fails, a good "go fuck yourself" works quite well.
5) If you really need money or whatever, I will trade you my three goats for six months of deferment. My goats produce the best cheese, I am not lying.

Health anxiety is an entirely different animal (please read this sentence in a Sean Connery accent). You can beg, plead, cry, offer sexual favors, etc. but your condition is really up to the gods. My tongue is made of silver and I have been able to talk myself out of every major problem I have ever had, except this one.

The fact that I have to deal with some type of object in my lung that is completely unwelcome is five degrees above stressful. There is something inside of me over which I have no control. Anyone who knows me understands that I am a control freak and I would remove the offending substance with my own hands, if  I could. This is not possible without blooding my nicest outfit. And as of now, my nicest outfit is my only outfit because I have neglected laundry chores.

The point is that I freak out, start having trouble breathing, start having chest pain, and then everything becomes worse because of anxiety. Anyone who doesn't believe that anxiety is real needs to listen to my heart rate at 140bmp when I am resting. Perhaps then they would believe it. Anyway, this cycle continues until I can control my stress.

How do I do this?

Ativan. God bless the Ativan.