Hypochondria is the plural form of hypochondrium.
Hypochondrium: Either of two regions of the abdomen, situated on each side of the epigastrium and above the lumbar regions, overlying the costal cartilages.
The hypochondrium ≊ where the rectus abdominis muscles attach. The top of your Base-Line.
Could this be the origin of the 'hypochondriac' label? A whole list of symptoms, pains and niggles. Always complaining of something. Never 'healthy'. All because of a dysfunction in the usage of the rectus abdominis and other main muscles of movement?
My early experiences, education and much research over the years meant I knew there was little that could be done for my pains and so I rarely went to a doctor. If I'd sought medical advice for all the symptoms I've experienced over the decades I would have been constantly visiting and probably classified as a hypochondriac (at best) or (at worst), as an attention-seeking time-waster.
I had severe DIS-EASE. I was not at ease with myself, with the world, with anything.
The pains and other symptoms were real. Now that I have healed I know that.
Self-doubt abounded. I wondered if I was a hypochondriac, after all isn't pain said to be all your head?
Filling out medical forms - have you got X Y Z? "No, No, No" therefore I must be healthy.
Results from a couple of blood-tests over the years were unremarkable. Nothing to see, no evidence that I wasn't healthy.
I was stressed and depressed, I hardly expected to feel physically great. I felt the depression was a fundamental flaw with 'me', I never considered it was because of my body.
I felt like a fraud, like I was making it up somehow.
Many months into healing (when I knew I had discovered the reason for my pain) I still had that strong feeling of self-doubt. Picking up a frying pan and crying out in pain. I had no audience, no reason to be faking it, yet I still felt I was being overly dramatic despite the searing pain shooting up my arm.
"How are you?" was a horrible question to be asked (especially when I knew the person asking actually cared). I usually answered with a superficial "Yeah, OK, fine." If I stopped to think about how I was, the tidal wave of everything wrong would have overwhelmed me, and who really wants to hear all my woes?
Pretending I was OK (not showing weakness or admitting I was hurt) was a trait from my early childhood. Gritting my teeth and getting on with it, never asking for help. Sometimes resentful that help wasn't offered - I was in so much pain couldn't just someone see??
There was always something causing me pain, shifting aches and symptoms. I tended not to mention specifics, my 'bad back' covered most of it from my early teens. I didn't want to come across as a hypochondriac/melodramatic attention seeker.
Symptom checking - all the different muscle problems (psoas, piriformis, tight TFL etc etc.) Everything was sore - could I really have them all? I tried various muscle release techniques but I couldn't bear the pain they caused.
Chinese medicine patterns (stories that try to explain the observed connections between symptoms) - I seemed to have most of them when I read about such things. Again adding to my self-doubt - could I really be that messed up, all the symptoms unable to catagorise at all.? It turns out I did have a whole-body dysfunction.
A name for unexplained, painful symptoms these days: Fibromyalgia. What that really means is "We don't know what's going on and there's nothing we can do to help, but here's a label and just get on with it." Opening the door to all sorts of quackery and miracle-cure merchants.
The Roll-Down is the basic movement to use as you focus on your Base-Line
Some cases of 'hypochondria' may be purely psychological, but unless you are in peak physical fitness with a full range of movement (Olympic gymnast, yoga/tai chi expert) then, based on my experiences, I would not rule out a physical basis for any perceived pre-occupation with health and many other 'mental' issues.
Connecting with your Base-Line feels good. Take control. Heal yourself.Back To Top
Movement should not be painful.
© Copyright Leigh Blyth BVM&S 2017-2019