Screw them

I rode my bike to work today. I thought of the patent I am reviewing, and I dreamed about the future. I thought about what I would like to accomplish in the near future: find a new career path, learn spanish, finance and build a house in Costa Rica, and then a voice bubbled up from the past. A voice that made me say "screw you".

When I was sick, wandering office to office, lab to lab, waiting room to waiting room, over a dozen doctors looked at me, and heard my complaints and told me that I needed to talk to a psycologist. So I did. two in New york, one in North Carolina, four in Virginia. Nearly all implied that I wanted to be sick. some said that boldly. They asked me to concentrate on figuring out what I was receiving from the illness. They asked if it was attention, forgiveness, the ability to not be perfect, an excuse for a lack of motivation. I flirted with all of them, investigating each in turn. I asked myself by I wanted to be sick. I felt ashamed that I wanted to be sick so badly that my body had ceased to function. In the end, I told each doctor that I had soberly considered his/her suggestion, and that I felt like I was just sick, broken, shattered. They usually got frustrated, and told me that I was not open to recovery. They told me that clinging to a fantasy that there was something chemcally wrong was going to prevent me from getting well. They wanted to talk about my parents, my sister, my scholing, whether I had hit myself or something. They wanted to explore anger that was just not there.

Well, you all, I am well. Right there. And with it comes dreams and peace, and inspiration. So screw those doctors who would only listen if you said something they were ready to hear. I really think they meant well, but if just one had asked me more about my instincts, maybe I would be here earlier.

I am so close to well. I hardly know what to write anymore. the improvements are so great, but so slight at the same time, I am often alone in my celebrations. Last night I had an evening with strangers. and there was no distortion at all. Last week, I started drinking tap water again, and I did not swell or get naseaus as before. I ate dessert this weekend, and I was fine the next day. I drank raki by a pond, under the stars in New Hampshire and all this illness was so far away.

So if you are wondering if you will get well, and you have a list of doctors who have told you no, believe that voice inside you, and screw them.