There I was again in a doctor’s office, tearfully telling yet another specialist about the litany of symptoms that had plagued me for more than a decade.

I fervently longed for answers as to what was wrong with me, but I’d gotten used to the bemused looks when I bemoaned about how utterly awful I felt much of the time.

And so I rattled off some of my many ailments: horrible headaches , crippling fatigue or insomnia , heart palpitations, anxiety , brain fog, severe PMS, cold hands and feet, muscle pains, aching eye sockets, sugar cravings and crying spells.

“Please tell me what’s wrong with me!” I pleaded.

But first, let me backtrack. Over the years, various medical professionals offered diagnoses and advice that ran the gamut.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“It’s all in your

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