I was scrolling Facebook (a trigger for me when there are several sad or scary stories popping up) and happened to stumble upon someone telling a story about a man who passed away from ocular melanoma who left behind a wife and kids.
So what do I do? Walk up to my husband, look at his eye and notice some
freckles on the iris of his eye — cue the freak out. Absolutely convinced. Convinced that I read the story because he has it and needs to be checked out. Heart racing. Can’t calm down.
I should add, I’ve been handling my health anxiety relatively well lately. One part of my brain is saying “WHY OH WHY” do I have to read these stories and let them stay with me? And then the other part is saying “you read that for a reason”
Ugh. I hate this feeling.
So what do I do? Walk up to my husband, look at his eye and notice some
freckles on the iris of his eye — cue the freak out. Absolutely convinced. Convinced that I read the story because he has it and needs to be checked out. Heart racing. Can’t calm down.
I should add, I’ve been handling my health anxiety relatively well lately. One part of my brain is saying “WHY OH WHY” do I have to read these stories and let them stay with me? And then the other part is saying “you read that for a reason”
Ugh. I hate this feeling.