Anna Mathur: Here’s everything I did to conquer my sick fear of VOMITING

It was New Year’s Eve, and I celebrated with friends in Edinburgh. Then, at 18, I’d worked myself up into a state of hyper-awareness of all the drunken revellers when I saw a man throw up on the pavement.

Such was my revulsion, my sheer, blind terror at the sight of this, that I went into fight-or-flight mode, dashing across three lanes of busy traffic with my hands over my ears and my eyes half-closed. My friend shouted; a horn blasted, but I made it to the other side, panic pulsing through me.

This illustrates perfectly the extent of my phobia of vomiting. I was less afraid of being mowed down by three lanes of cars than I was of seeing someone be sick.

This wasn’t the first time this fear had got the better of me – though it was probably the most dramatic.

Waking with a racing heart after nightmares about vomiting, replaying historic sickness scenarios, feeling intense fear when someone says they don’t feel well, or coughing loudly on a train. I’ve experienced them all.

As a mother of three young children, I also know what it’s like to feel a failure because you struggle to comfort your own sick child. In fact, you fear morning sickness so much that you question whether you’ll be able to handle motherhood. And as winter vomiting bugs start up again, many others may feel the thud of panic.

EMETOPHOBIA is the fear of vomiting or seeing others vomit. And it’s more common than you might think – experienced by up to 3 per cent of males and 6 to 8 per cent of females. But it’s often misunderstood or dismissed as an overreaction.

However, if you’re one of the sufferers, there is hope. As a therapist, I can assure you that you can break free from this phobia. Even if, like me, it has dominated much of your life.

I suspect my own emetophobia goes back to when I was five and my two-year-old sister was diagnosed with brain cancer, which would make her vomit. It was a turbulent time, one that was ruled by radiotherapy appointments and side effects.

Tragically, she died when I was ten – the age my eldest child is now. Surrounded by grief, I didn’t want to burden anyone by telling them about my anxiety, so it mushroomed.

You certainly don’t need to have experienced a devastating loss to develop this phobia, though. It might have been a traumatic event such as food poisoning or a stomach virus as a child. There may be no one defining moment you can pinpoint; there were simply times that you felt scared and out of control when you were unwell.

It can also be related to other fears and forms of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Symptoms can range from mild fear to brain-tiring rumination and apprehension.

As for me, for ten years, my body wouldn’t allow me to be physically sick. But then I became a student, and too many speedily downed drinks did make me ill. Though I felt physical relief in that moment, it did not combat my fears.

The phobia stalked me through marriage, making me fear pregnancy on account of morning sickness. Yet by then, I was training to be a therapist, so I realised I couldn’t let my fear have that much power over my dreams.

Ironically, though, in two of my three pregnancies, I experienced hyperemesis, a complication characterised by severe nausea and vomiting. I was sick about ten times a day for months. As terrible as it was, I became desensitised to my own sickness.

However, the illness of other people remained an issue. While I was able to deal with babies vomiting after drinking milk, once they were weaned onto food, it became more of a problem. Whenever the usual childhood bugs were doing the rounds, I felt tempted to keep them home from school or avoid leaving the house to save them from catching anything.

But being on the parenting frontline, every inevitable stomach bug forced me to address emetophobia once and for all.

First, I found some brilliant grounding and breathing techniques that helped – and may help you, too.

Breathe in for four, out for eight as soon as you feel your anxiety rising. It switches off your sympathetic nervous system and enables you to access your rational brain. And when you realise you’re overthinking your fear, count back from 100 in threes – you cannot overthink while doing maths.

Mantras help, too. I often tell myself: ‘We’ve come through it before. If we need to, we can do it again.’ Or ‘I have the resources I need to make it through’ or ‘I am bigger than these feelings’.

TRY mimicking the reactions of those around you when someone is sick nearby. The relative nonchalance – caring but not terrified. When this works, it will bolster your confidence a little.

But the most significant change is learning not to flee when you feel triggered — a train seat, a party, a busy street, a car. In that moment, I breathe and remind myself that anxiety peaks and falls — it will pass.

Riding out these situations can be anxiety-provoking, but by using the right techniques, I come out the other end feeling tired but accomplished.

Last but not least, seek therapeutic support if you can. You can get a counselling referral via the NHS. Sometimes, phobias are rooted in experience or trauma, and talking it through can really help.

Meanwhile, my life is no longer ruled by my phobia. Sure, anxiety nudges into my headspace at the sight of vomiting, but I have the tools to kick it out. And so will you.