First off, I'll just say that they're not mental health issues, because that is a whole nother department that I am not qualified to talk about. It's non-mental (whatever the word for that is), invisible, uncurable stuff, and it's quite frankly a pain in the ass.
I'm not a huge fan of writing about my issues, but I wanted to take a moment to write this blog post because when I was struggling with the realization that I was in a possession of a disease I really didn't want, the only thing I knew was that Robert Frost quote: In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life — It goes on.
Well yeah, but how?
Here is your user's manual to your new invisible illness, in 13 easy steps:
1. You do not have a problem.
2. Okay, you probably don't have a problem, but your friends and family and doctors are very insistent about this possibility, so it probably won't hurt to get an appointment. It's not going to turn up anything. You've had other tests before. You've had ALL OF THE TESTS before. No way is this one going to be positive.
3. Oh God, what if you DON'T have a problem? You're seriously going to have to live like this for the REST OF YOUR LIFE oh no oh no oh no I wish I had a problem, any problem. Somebody give me chronic projectile vomiting syndrome, or feline leukemia, quick.
4. It doesn't matter whether or not you have a problem, because life sucks too hard for you to care. Alienate your friends and family and then whine about how nobody loves you. Actually, alienate yourself from everybody and spend a lot of time feeling sorry for yourself alone, because you are secretly an alien from Planet Suck. That guy on the History Channel was right; truly you built the pyramids yourself lo these many years ago, and that's why you feel so stupendously crap right now.
|I'm not saying it's aliens... but it's aliens.|
6. You want the test to be positive.
7. You want the test to be negative.
8. You want to move to Wyoming and live among your bretheren the elk. The elk will understand you. Begin packing.
9. Receive test result calmly, as though you knew all along. Of course! Explain results matter-of-factly to interested kin and kind, rolling your eyes when they screw up the finer points. Don't they even obsessively research medical literature? Jeez.
10. Live life calmly, at peace. Now you know. Improvement will be slow/nonexistent, but at least you know.
11. Have a bad day. WHY DIDN'T THIS DIAGNOSIS FIX THINGS?! The world hates you and wants you to suffer. Shut yourself away in the Grey Gardens and hiss at anyone who comes near, especially the owners.
13. Repeat steps 10-12 for the next 60-80 years, depending on luck and medical technology.
Congratulations! Now you know, and you'll never suffer again. Possibly. It's still in clinical testing.