Hypochondria: The Girl Who Cried Wolf
Which then begs to ask the big question: why am I so afraid to die?
I'm sharing this with you so that maybe you'll understand your friend, your sister, your brother or child a bit more when they freak out about a lump on their neck (possibly from a swollen lymph node) or when they say they have chest pain (after they ate two huge bowls of pasta fasule). And yes, it's "all in our head" -- but we feel the symptoms, the pain, the agony of disrupting our day (as well as yours) to go to the doctor and get it checked out. Sometimes that means waking up in the middle of the night so the hypochondriac can have peace of mind. Although it's very real to us, it can also be very frustrating and agonizing for loved ones. I'm not saying to enable the madness of the neurosis, but to refrain from making them feel bad or "crazy' -- to minimize their fears and concerns over their wellbeing and overall health.
The other day, my friend posted this quote, "My invisible disease is more real than your imaginary medical expertise."
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