Every book has a story that begins before the first page. The story of this book started in small rooms where patients exhausted from their endless journey through inconclusive tests, normal imaging results, and repetitive prescriptions of painkillers would say something more or less the same: "Doctors say it's in my mind, but my body hurts. So who's going to hear my real pain?"For the past ten years, I've been sitting in those rooms of conversation. I've seen, time and again, how a simple twinge in the chest can transform the heart not as a biological organ, but as a cruel symbol of impending death. I've witnessed how a small itch on the skin can blur the boundary between identity and anxiety into a scar that reopens with each scratch. Over these years, I've come to realize that unless neuroscience, cognitive psychology, and the compassionate art of behavioral guidance come together, a vicious cycle of pain, fear, and helplessness is created one that wears down both the clinician and the patient.
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