I did something horrible yesterday. A friend said that he was feeling under-the-weather (aka "late August sniffles") and I responded with my own health woes. Then my mother topped me with my father's kidney stones.
But that's the way we do things, isn't it? You break up with the love of your life, and the person you tell starts in with Louise, from Accounting, who just did the exact same thing and how she's coping (or not). You develop arthritis and either everyone has a cure or they know people with a cure or they've read about a cure.
I suppose it's good to know that - in your moment of emotional or physical weakness - you're not alone. However, there are times when you want to wallow in it. No one, ever has felt as bad as you. What Louise is going through? Nothing compared the the black hole that is your life. So what if Uncle Martin had the same sprained ankle? Yours is 10x worse.
My promise? The next time someone tells me about their problems, I won't one-up you. At least, not the first time we talk. After that, all bets are off.