LIFE OF A HYPOCHONDRIAC Chapter 2: The Laundry List.

The first evidence that I had hypochondria was at the age of 6. I thought I was having a heart attack. My symptoms were severe chest pains while breathing and a pounding heart. I thought I was dying. Of course at the age of 6, death is a difficult subject to confide in your parents about, so I silently suffered. In reality, I was really suffering from anxiety caused by my hatred of daycare, mean teachers, older and stranger kids, and tiny snack time portions. Since then, I have had a laundry list of diseases and disorders some fatal, some life altering, some mildly annoying, some stranger then others. The strangest only last a moment or so, while some ailments last for weeks, months, or years.

The following is an account of every disease / disorder that I can remember self-diagnosing myself with, and a list of my symptoms and/or root of my neurosis, in alphabetical order:

AIDS - Who hasn't thought they were dying of AIDS? I grew up in the 1980's.
Alcoholism - in actuality I have anxiety and alcohol helps with this.
Arthritis - general soreness.
Body dysmorphic disorder - I am old and hideous.
Brain Tumor - headaches probably caused by dehydration, poor short term memory.
Breast Cancer - Puberty and menstruation. My thirteen year old breasts would become sore and swollen, not just cause I was on the rag, but because I would spend hours feeling for lumps.
Cervical Cancer - see breast cancer.
Colon Cancer - symptoms caused by IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) and lactose intolerance, two ailments which I may or may not have, but their combination has a higher survival rate then cancer.
Chlamydia - My boyfriend at the time was not happy to hear of my possible STD contraction. Turns out I had a yeast infection, every women get one at least once. Was it worth the drama? Probably not.
Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia - I read Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides and I highly recommend it. Any more detail would be too much information.
Diabetes - exhaustion caused by caffeine withdraw, also over eating.
Ectopic Pregnancy - symptoms caused by menstrual cramps.
Homosexuality - Girls are pretty.
Hypochondriasis - It's a what came first scenario, the chicken or the egg.
Leukemia - I bruise easily and I actually just read the other symptoms, so I think I still might have this. Note to self: call Dr. Lutsky.
Liver Failure - actually a urinary track infection, but close.
Lyme Disease - a friend has it, therefor so do I.
Mad Hatter Disease - also know as mercury poisoning. I eat fish.
Meningitis - I was a college student, living in a dormitory. End of story.
Mitral Valve Prolapse - I drink way too much caffeine. Also, see Life of a Hypocondriac Chapter 1
Muscular Dystrophy - I have literally every symptom of this disease, it's frightening. Blurry vision, clumsiness, forgetfulness, tremors, muscle aches, etc... All of these symptoms are also symptoms of stress, aging, depression, and too much caffeine which is also the current state of my life (and probably yours). As long as my symptoms don't get worse, I'm pretending to be MS free. Also, the only way to test for this disease is by spinal tap. Once my doctor explained this to me, I was cured. It was a miracle.
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - I read Devil in the Details by Jennifer Traig. I love this book.
Oral Cancer - Reasons unknown, I suppose anything is possible.
Osteoporosis - I slouch and never drink milk.
Prosopagnosia - I'm terrible with faces and sometimes only recognize people by their accessories ie: wallet, shoes etc... Does that make me a materialistic person?
Skin Cancer - I have a fair complexion and freckles.
Swine Flue - I live in the word, and I watch the news.

The Correlation Between Buddhism and Clinical Depression

I am not a spiritual person. Culturally, I am Jewish, but I grew up only around Christian kids, and they thought that I was going to hell for not believing in Christ. Needless to say, there is a lot about Judaism that didn't really stick with me. I still love lox and cream cheese, Woody Allen, complaining, and imagining that I have a degenerative neurological disorder. This is the depth of my Jewish faith. Ultimately, I am agnostic because saying I am atheist is as big of an assumption as saying that the earth was created in 6 days. Even so, I have a gut feeling that there isn't a higher being, and all this existence stuff happened coincidentally due to nice weather, which usually makes or brakes most things anyway.



Unlike some non-religious people, I am very tolerant of other people's views and religious traditions. I think it's cute when boys go to Church on Sunday ( this is not ideal ). In my mind they still believe in fairy tales, with an innocent naivete. No matter how ridiculous it is to not eating bacon, or how completely moronic it is to celebrate an egg-laying bunny, people have the right to practice their beliefs without being ridiculed. It's a shame that the world isn't more accepting of the various conflicting religious views that exist, many wars could have been avoided, many lives spared, many boring and pointless arguments omitted.


I have been thinking about Buddhism recently . It's my religious flavor of the day. I think this is because I'm depressed. The definition of the Middle Way (the journey to enlightenment) is emptiness, and there is a point of depression that is very zen, when one is completely empty, and therefore suffering ends. I feel that all monks must be depressed too. Why else would anyone wear the same thing every day? Buddhism is ideal for people who are disenchanted with their lives, and have basically given up on certain goals and expectations that they once had in their youth.


The aspect of Buddhism that attracts me is that very little of the religion (or philosophy) has to do with an external higher being / bearded man (which is strange because I love beards) and more to do with one's inner being. It's a little narcissistic in that sense. I like practicing Buddhism when depressed because it can be done in isolation, without structure, bibles, gift giving, community, or effort. Buddhism is really just a point of view, and that view is not caring about anything anymore, to the point of complete apathy, and therefore being free of desire, other than the desire to go to the beach and drink whiskey, which is actually a need. Buddhism is really the perfect religion.

Boys are Dumb

Boys have a lot of annoying tendencies that makes me want to kill. For example, when they chase after me, pathetically and annoyingly, then loose interest once they get my attention. Didn't they want my attention? WTF? Wasn't that the point? What did they think would happen if they text me everyday, and compliment me all the time? And show interest in my thoughts and feelings? Did they think the results would be me hating them? Did they think I would insult them in return and wish they were dead? The ones that I really wish were dead WONT LEAVE ME ALONE! Take a hint.

Someone please explain this to me!!! Who ever gives me the best explanation gets a steak dinner. Why can't they hold up their end of the deal, EVER? Why do they want what they can't have? I am convinced that the chasers would loose interest too, if I ever gave them the time of day (which I wont).



Here is a secret for all of you boys out there. All girls are crazy, emotional messes who will eventually bore you to death, even the most beautiful ones who think you are a loser and would NEVER, EVER fuck you. Drop the fantasy. I should just become a hair pie eating lesbian. My mother wouldn't care as long as a spawn a child in the next decade. Now, I feel nauseous.

Princess of Bel Air

My home town, Bel Air, is located 30 minutes northeast of Baltimore Maryland. It's a small right winged town of about 50,000 people established in the late 1700's. The most notable person ever to come from this place is John Wilkes Booth. The town, according to the 2000 census is just under 3 square miles in size.



When my family moved to Bel Air in 1983, there was almost nothing but ma and pa stores, movie theaters, schools, fast food restaurants, grocery stores, an arcade, farms and lots and lots of cow fields. I lived in a development called Marywood II, which sat next to Marywood I. I believe the name is a VERY loose reference to Robin Hood. I lived on Westwell Lane, but there was also a Friar Tuck Drive, St. Francis Road, Yankee Doodle Drive, and Vanderbilt Road. The developers couldn't seem to keep a common theme when naming the streets other then the fact that they were Mary Men, proud to be southern and loved money, power and God. There were probably 4 or 5 architectural designs for the houses in the development. Walk around the block and you could count 8 houses like yours, all with slight variations such as the color of the aluminum siding, the size of the garage, or the presence or absence of a chimney.



Bel Air is very VERY middle class, but I have come to realize that the people who live there are unaware of this fact, as was I until I left at the age of 17 to study design in Philadelphia. The small town people of Bel Air are unaware that there are much MUCH nicer places to live. Almost every other place I have ever visited, with the exception of Las Vegas, had more appeal, including the deep south and Queens. Many of the people who live in Bel Air have never lived anywhere else. Their parents have never lived anywhere else and despite this fact, the locals were snobs (and racist). Small minded families that shopped at the Gap and belonged to the town's swim club looked down at people who shopped at K-mart and swam at Rock State Park. There were girls who's mothers ironed their coordinating outfits and there were girls who wore blue eyeshadow and hand-me-downs inspired by 90210 to their 5th grade picture.



I was the latter. I hated those other girls but still wished I could shop at The Gap. Either way, you still lived in a small 2-4 bedroom house with aluminum siding, wall to wall carpeting on a 1/4 acre of land. IN BEL AIR! There was nothing to do! Once a year, a carnival came to town. That was awesome. Also, once a year the town held it's annual Farm Fair, complete with face painting, horse rides, and inflatable castles. Other then that, families drove their vehicle, most likely a Dodge Caravan, station wagon, or Chrysler around town, to the movies, arcade, bowling alley, the snowball stand, or to the McDonalds Playroom for entertainment. Also, the Denny's was open late for rebels who like to drink caffeine after 8pm.



Today, Bel Air is so congested. The fields are gone. Betsy the cow, who had inherited the land from her owner, finally died and Harford Mall was built. The empty lot that once held the carnival was paved over to build a parking lot for Circuit City (ironically out of business now), Starbucks, Barns and Nobles, Target and a slew of other chain stores. The arcade and K-mart are gone. Now, TGI Fridays, Chilies, Red Lobster, Ruby Tuesday, Taco Bell, Apple Bee's, Outback Steak House, Lone Star Steak House, KFC have been built in it's place. New Developments have sprung up everywhere possible causing woods, old farm houses, and fields to disappear. There have been traffic light additions that make rush hour intolerable, schools are over crowded, and bars that serve sweet and weak cocktails in plastic cups have been established for the townies who have settled into their small lives. All the antique stores on Main Street have gone out of business, and the one thrift store (Goodwill) is so picked over I can NEVER find anything worth $4.99. Guess I have to go to Wal Mart for the good deals:(

I always knew that I would miss the carnival, but I never thought I would miss Bel Air, and I actually don't. However, I miss the way it used to be, before corporate America overpopulated my sleepy, racist, republican little town. And I thought it couldn't get any worse.

Left is Right

I am about to offend 90% of my readers, and I apologise in advance, however, I feel compelled to bring this subject to topic for the improvement and development of human understanding. The topic at hand is handedness, specifically the fact that left handed people are better then right handed people. I use the term "better" because I feel it is vague enough to create an element of mystery, yet it undeniably and unquestionably described left handed people in the literal sense.

To the 10% of people in the world who are left handed, this fact comes to you at no surprise, and I hope that you are comfortable that I have "outed" us. Hopefully, this will not create too many personal conflicts with your right handed friends and loved ones. I fear that with their limited cognitive ability and struggle to comprehend our naturally intuitive and sensitive nature, the right handed persons may become confused, unnecessarily competitive, fearful, and attempt to insinuate our inferiority as they have done in the past. This is how the "righty" deals with his/her feelings of inadequacy.

To the Left Handed: If a conflict occurs within your personal relationships with a righty following this announcement, take percussion. Do not make any sudden movement or speak in a loud tone. Instead be sure to encourage the right handed person, while remaining calm, to let them know that you care for them despite their prominent right hand. Also, stress that one can not choose their handedness. This will help the "righty" to understand that they are not at fault, thereby eliminating any feelings of failure and self hatred that may develop.

Exhibit #1 Notable Left Handed People (evidence of superiority)
Albert Einstein
Aristotle
Barack Obama
Pablo Picasso
Amedeus Mozart
Ludwig Van Beethoven
Benjamin Franklin
Alexander the Great
Thomas Jefferson
Bob Dylan
David Byrne
David Bowie
Robert Plant
Oprah Winfrey
Friedrich Nietzsche
M.C. Etcher
Joan of Arc
Franz Kafka
Helen Keller
Julius Caesar
Leonardo di Vinci
Bill Clinton
John F. Kennedy
H.G. Wells
Hans Christian Anderson
Jerry Seinfeld
Marilyn Monro
Paul McCartney
Bill Gates
Mark Twain
Winston Churchill
Lewis Carroll
Neil Armstrong
Buzz Aldrin
Jean-Paul Gaultier
Probably God.

Local Lenny

A few weeks ago I tried to write an epic story from my life on this very blog, and as I was about to finish, all was lost. It still hurts when I think about it, and even returning to write brings back some of the pain, which explains my long absence from writing. Someday, I will attempt to rewrite the story of my 8 childhood dogs, but until then I will focus on less ambitious, but hopefully equally thoughtful accounts from my life.


Today, I decided to run some errands that I have literally put off doing for two weeks. Sometimes life get so hard and overwhelming, that I have to take time off, avoid people and things and hibernate until I am feeling stronger, happier, centered. Today was the end of my hiding, which coincided with the first nice day all week, and the end of a terrible bed ridden flu.

Still snotty, I took my bike a few neighborhoods over to transport some things (the errand) back home. Although I had left my cave I was still down on myself about the usual things, getting older, poorer and more lost in life every day. How hard life is and how hard it is to get a break in this city. Upon returning to the block that I have lived for 5 years, while parking my bike, I feel a pair of eyes on me. It's a familiar feeling that I often get while outside my building, either coming or going.
It's the stare from one of the locals, a middle aged mentally disabled man, who grew up in Gowanus, right around the corner from me. He was just standing on the corner, across the street, looking at me casually, hands in the side pockets of his slacks, glasses glared over, hooded in his black winter's coat. I see this man often, sometimes He is loitering inside the bar below my apartment, sometimes he is hanging with the old Italian men at the Glory Social Club a block away and sometimes he is standing right outside my door.


For a long time, this person frightened me. He is not particularly big, or loud, and at all threatening in anyway. The only conclusion I can make to the origins of my fear is the story Of Mice and Men. I am afraid that this Man, who is as sexually mature as any adult but has forever the mind of a 5 year old, is going to touch me inappropriately, hurt me, or maybe kill me. Sometimes when he is conversationally close, he says hello to me, and offers his clammy hand, which I politely take, and always regret. On a few occasions he has told me I'm pretty, but I never got the compliment that my female neighbor once received from him, when he told her he loved her. She promptly said thank you. I'm not jealous. I want to make that clear.

I am not a prejudice person. I am compassionate to those less fortunate then myself. I enjoy the movie Rainman (it makes me cry) and even had a crush on John Malkovich as a teenager (I was mature for my age). So, this fear that still lingers after five years of seeing this person around the hood still surprises me.


Today as I looked at him, looking at me, thankful that he was on the opposite side of the street, I imaged what his life must be like. He has never lived anywhere other then his block. His life has not changes for the better or worse his entire life. This person doesn't have any friends. He spends most of his time walking up and down the same block waiting for someone to hold his hand while he crosses the street. He will never be self sufficient, never create goals and accomplish them, never be able to cross the street without holding a stranger's hand. It made me realizes how much I have accomplished in my life, how much I have grown and changed as a person. So what if I'm not where I thought I would be at 28. Who cares if I can't afford expensive things. Life could always be worse. Then again, he is probably more content then I will ever be.

Bad Photoshop Job

This Month's Cover of New York Magazine is by far, one of the worst magazine covers I have ever seen. It is definitely the ugliest and most tasteless portrait of a First Lady that I have ever seen. I know times are tough New York Mag, but getting your intern to do the cover art is always a bad decision.