It’s odd because thinking I have hypochondriasis is part of the problem, right? I assume that’s more serious (and medicalization erects another border), that’s a defined condition, that’s a condition. Something for which I must qualify.
I have weird body stuff, and a medical history that is far short of spectacular but otherwise than ‘ordinary.’ I also treat my physical body like it’s unassailable, but it’s really that I think I’m dead either way. That something else will kill me before the accrued weight of my embodied irreverence takes me to task.
However, I have been taking baths a lot in the past week. As I understand, baths are like really good for you. I eat vegetables sometimes.
Won’t everyone be really disappointed in me though–once I prove my physician wrong and show them that I am actually really sick, that my organs are kaputt and I’ve got weeks? Plus they are so invasive–they want to know everything you do so that they can show you how it’s wrong.
Or maybe I’m just sensitive.
It’s like that part in that Rilo Kiley song.
But yeah so it’s like cyclical, right? I’m scared that I’m sick with this thing defined by a fear of sickness.
It would be nice though.
To know it’s just a measurable loss of marbles in my already precarious perceptions and thoughts. And that no matter how much of the day I guiltily sit and wonder how long I have until I’m vomiting blood or some such, and how I should probably do a few things before then–already shamefully stress-fantasizing about being Plath Dad–and that maybe it is just soy, it’s just my marbles rolling around, spilling, but that my bodyself is fine.
Unruly Bodies 
Your writing style is so striking. You are able to convey really intense emotions and really make me think about my own weird body stuff. I won’t assume that I know what you are going through, but I have had difficulties with the thought and assumption of my own illness before. I avoid doctors at all costs because I am terrified that something might actually be wrong, and am constantly worrying that what I’m experiencing is actually a real, tangible thing. It’s like, I know I’m ill in some way or another, but the thought of actually having a concrete diagnosis for either my mental health or physical health is more scary than not knowing at all. Maybe, maybe not, I don’t know. Much love for you though, and if you ever feel like it we should talk about how weird we feel.