"The Storm in a Teacup"
It was an ordinary Tuesday morning when Emma found herself standing in front of her bathroom mirror, eyes widening at the sight of a small, seemingly insignificant pimple on her chin. But in that moment, the tiny blemish seemed like the universe's cruel joke, as if it had been waiting to appear at the most inconvenient time. "Great," Emma muttered under her breath. "I'm going to look like a monster at work." Her mind, however, wasn't just focused on the pimple. Oh no. It spiraled into overdrive. What if it doesn't go away? What if it gets worse? What if people at work notice? She could already hear her coworkers whispering behind her back, even though they had no reason to. And then, the thought of the upcoming meeting with her boss only made matters worse. How could she be taken seriously with a zit on her face? In an exaggerated frenzy, Emma scrambled for every cream, lotion, and potion she could find in her bathroom cabinet, hoping one of them would miraculously erase the offending pimple. As she applied layer after layer of products, she could feel herself getting more and more worked up. The pimple, which only moments ago was a minor inconvenience, now felt like the centerpiece of her entire day. By the time she arrived at work, Emma was on edge. She was sure everyone could see it. Her coworkers were probably already laughing at her behind her back, whispering about how she looked like she was starring in a "before" photo for a skincare ad. The anxiety built and built as she walked into the office, her face burning with self-consciousness. Her thoughts were racing. Did my boss notice? Did anyone say anything? As she sat down at her desk, trying to look normal, a coworker, Sarah, came over with a smile and said, "Hey, Emma, I love that sweater you're wearing today. It's such a nice color on you!" Emma blinked, caught off guard. "Oh, uh, thanks," she stammered, unsure how to respond, her mind still preoccupied with the pimple. It felt like Sarah was being too nice, almost like she was trying to make up for the fact that she’d noticed Emma’s breakout. Later that day, during the meeting with her boss, Emma couldn't help but fixate on the pimple, which was now starting to swell just slightly more than before. She gave a presentation, and as she spoke, she was sure she saw her boss glance at her face. Did he notice it? Is he judging me? As soon as the meeting ended, Emma rushed to the bathroom again, practically ripping open the door. She stared at her reflection, hoping, wishing that the pimple would magically disappear. But no. It was still there, and it seemed to mock her, growing ever so slightly larger. The overreaction had reached its peak. Just then, Sarah appeared at the door. "Emma, are you okay? You seem... I don't know, a little stressed out today." Emma sighed. "It's just this stupid pimple. I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like everyone is staring at it." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "What? Oh, you mean that tiny dot on your chin? Honestly, I didn't even notice until you pointed it out. And I'm sure no one else has either." Emma blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. She had spent the whole day convinced that the entire world was focused on her pimple, when in reality, no one had given it a second thought. "You're... you're sure?" Emma asked, still incredulous. "Positive," Sarah said with a chuckle. "I think you're the only one who's been worrying about it. And I can tell you, no one else cares." Emma stared at her reflection, suddenly realizing how much she had blown things out of proportion. The storm in her mind had been just that—a storm in a teacup. What seemed like a life-altering disaster had, in truth, been a minor inconvenience. As the day went on, Emma relaxed. Her pimple faded into the background of her thoughts, overshadowed by the realization that her own overreaction had made it far more important than it ever was. By the time she got home that evening, the pimple had started to shrink. And though it wasn’t completely gone, Emma found herself laughing at how much she had worried about it. Maybe the next time something small felt like the end of the world, she'd take a deep breath and remind herself that it was just a little bump in the road—one that no one else probably even noticed.
~~~***~~~
The above phenomenon is not an ordinary day to day happening. There are individuals who have seen this growing into almost pahological dimensions-that's not all. There have been cases where the person so impacted had even cherished the quality with pride and it never even struck her as though this was a serious psychiatric disease if left untreated, could have the ramifications of having to spend a good part of one's life inside a remand home. This is something which the psychiatrists describe as 'histrionic personality disorder'(HPD).
How does Astrology look at it?
Well. The position of Moon in the sixth house and a weak Sun either in the 12th or 8th put this blanket of too much of insecurity and overreaction in order to cover up the intrinsic trait. Funnily, they do know that the trait is no good. As time passes, this takes the form of hypocrisy and over a period of time, they lose friends and win enemies...
On the physical front, those with these traits are generally found to be deficient in Magnesium in their blood. Consuming more plant foods, leafy vegetables like Spinach can be a profitable exercise.
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