Why does it feel so bad to have my character impugned?
Why do I care so much about what the people I care about think of me?
I suppose I’ve answered my own question with the last one; because I care about them, I suppose.
On relativity and pain:
I’ve just noticed that while I can work in the midst of intense anxiety attacks, literally blinding migraines, and a variety of other pain and suffering, my recent heartache was too much to bear, and I could not function through the pain.
