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“You’re Making Up Symptoms,” They Laughed—Until the Specialist’s Report Came Back.

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like it belonged to me. Now it finally sat where it belonged.

Two years after my diagnosis, my relationship with my family had found a fragile equilibrium. Not perfect. Not healed. But honest in ways it had never been before. They visited my apartment sometimes, careful about boundaries, asking before assuming. Thomas had implemented sick leave policies continue reading …

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