Recovering from mysophobia

A few years ago, I thought I was suffering from mysophobia. I simply couldn’t bear touching anyone, or being touched, not even by many close relatives.

I would wash my hands as much as I could. I would wash the dishes and the glasses, some times twice, before being capable to use them for my meals.

Once, at a party, a nice lady that helped me a lot to get a scholarship offered me her fish stick because she thought it was some sort of marshmallow, but she doesn’t eat of seafood. I was stunned! I couldn’t even take the little wooden stick that was piercing the fish.

I simply shook my head with a nervous smile. And she just throw the fish into the dustbin. I still feel ashamed to the day.

In recent years, I got over most it. Sharing a glass with a close friend? Unthinkable at that time! Now, a few days ago, a coworker dared to take his hand into my bag of chips and take one. He apologized immediately for doing this, but just because of his own action, not because of me. In fact, what I realized at that same moment is that I no longer felt uncomfortable.

Some times, some people make me feel like they are dirty and I would definitely wouldn’t like to shake their hands, but is not so common now.

I am not sure if I was actually suffering of mysophobia, but I can see that I’m almost recovered of that strange desire of being away from any person.

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