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BPAL Madness!
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It's all in your head.

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darkitysnark

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Snarky developed some psychosomatic quirks during her senior year back in Nerd School. She was falling into a mild depression, feeling the strain of separation from her first serious boyfriend (the relationship was a bit co-dependent), and she was at a complete loss as to where/what she wanted to go/do/be after graduation.

 

About once a month she would come down with symptoms of a particularly virulent stomach virus that didn't exist. Two days of debilitating gastro-intestinal distress then suddenly nothing, and back to her self-imposed hermit-like existance of skipping meals in the cafeteria in lieu of a pseudo-monastic supper of rye bread and onion soup (She's not sure why she settled on this particular combination, it was probably something she picked up from reading The Name of the Rose and/or the better option compared to flagellation.). Naturally her suitemates didn't take any of this seriously and did their best to harrass her into being more sociable.

 

The psychosomatic weirdness climaxed with a spectacular presentation of a raging case of hives during final exams. Every where her skin was constantly touched - her bra strap, necklines and waistlines, where her low pony tail rested against the nape of her neck, bloomed with red, itchy welts. She added two Benadryls to her rye bread and onion soup communion every night and had nightmares about physics exams and botany practicals.

 

Eventually her skin cleared and she graduated (probably in that order) and after that traumatic senior semester, nothing quite so extreme happened to her again.

 

But she remembers that it's possible. A crouching gremlin hiding in her meat and bones, waiting for the right triggers.

 

Last week The Mister took two days off of work because of stomach problems. Today, a full week later, he's still not quite back to normal. He comes from a family that doesn't always think to go to the doctor until the problem becomes much worse, so Snarky's attempts at getting him to Get Help have been treated as Chiken Little-style freakouts.

 

Finally, though, he is thinking about seeing his doctor. Even if this ends up being all in his head (his work is approaching a critical turning point this week) she hopes that seeing the doctor will help him somehow.

 

In the meantime, her own stomach has been a bit sour and sullen as well. Whether it is in sympathy (the closest to synced menses they'll ever get), or due to exposure to him (if it is an actual bug), or due to a whole new resurgence of her old sub-conscious mind/body craziness (always an underlying possiblity), she's unclear. Perhaps she'll never fully focus on the cause. She just hopes the effects for both The Mister and herself go away soon.

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Stomachace? Ooof.

 

My personal psychosomatic symptom of choice is this very specific combination of mild heartburn and heart palpitations. In general, I get this feeling whenever I feel guilty, that I have made a big mistake, let someone down, etc.

 

Unfortunately, I get the exact same symptoms from sudafed or two much caffeine. This results in me having a sudden moments where I have no idea what it is I feel so guilty about, and then I realize I just had too much strong iced tea.

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That's sort of humorous (when it isn't happening to oneself, of course). Guilt? Or Tea?

 

Your symptoms reminded Snarky of a brief period of spastic esophagus she had a few years ago. Very weird. Sort of like getting verklempt, but more painful and tearless. It felt like a hot ball of emotion lodging just above her breast bone.

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I could hardly read through your entry without manifesting symptoms. I am sometimes too much of an empath and then I'm also enough of a hypochondriac to think up my own. Weirdly, I have fewer symptoms when I'm busy and stressed out than when I'm not busy and/or stressed. It's like my idle mind will start thinking up things that are wrong with me. Or if I get really happy, I start to think I'm about to die, because I can't live and be happy. So then I do something to make myself really miserable and then at least I'm not a hypochondriac any more. What a kook I am! I do believe (and now picture in your mind Lucy from "Peanuts" sitting below her "Psychiatrist is in" sign) that a lot of my weirdness comes from being around two terminally ill grandparents a lot when I was around 2 to 4 years old. My mother seemed to think that little kids wouldn't get what was going on, and hoo boy, was she ever wrong!

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I do believe (and now picture in your mind Lucy from "Peanuts" sitting below her "Psychiatrist is in" sign) that a lot of my weirdness comes from being around two terminally ill grandparents a lot when I was around 2 to 4 years old. My mother seemed to think that little kids wouldn't get what was going on, and hoo boy, was she ever wrong!

 

:plunks a nickel in your tin:

Yipes! Snarky's health stuff (besides the glaring periods of rampant psychosomatic weirdness) is generally unaffected by her mental state. But her brain can really drag her through the exhaustive mental chess game of oneupmanship that her mother's upbringing methodology of "spare the crushing guilt trip, spoil the child" fostered. It's a wonder Snarky can function socially at all what with the constant assessing of "the score" with everyone in her life.

 

While she didn't have terminally ill grandparents (so far all of their deaths have been shockingly sudden) she did get to witness (and unfortunately be a part of) bizarre money games (up to and including near fisticuffs over the bill for meals, jumping out of moving vehicles to pay for parking, and stuffing money in the grandchildrens' clothing for the parents to find later). Doesn't sound all that bad until you realize the "I'll get even with you" mentality spread far beyond monetary scorekeeping for Snarky.

 

Parents are flawed, myopic people too. :boogie:

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