The Easy Way Out

It has been around two months since I started my current psychiatric medicine and I do feel a little better. I feel more energized and slightly more in tuned to everything around me. But there is a nagging feeling that not everything is ok and maybe that’s just normal. I don’t think so, though. In fact, part of this feeling I’m having is from wanting to be sick again. Don’t get me wrong, I never want to have a transplant or go through the body-breaking experience of PSC again. But there is something scintillating with the sick lifestyle. Everyone is your advocate, they all deeply care about your health and feelings, and will do almost anything to help you. You are also infallible to some. You can use your disease as an excuse to get away with not doing your work, sleeping late, and taking it easy. Like a child, dog, or pregnant woman, a sick person knows exactly how to get what they want.

When I have blood taken or see the doctor, I secretly want something to be wrong. I even wouldn’t mind being admitted to the hospital. For years, part of my life was defined by my sickness. It was indelibly part of me even if I didn’t want it to be back then. People treated me like I was sick and I acted accordingly. When I became healthy in one fell swoop, every one’s perception of me suddenly changed. I was now either “lucky” or “blessed” or “healthy”. And I am those things but for me it is harder to give up being “sick” also.

It’s a scary thought to say out loud, but its almost a fear of growing up. For years, my main concern was staying healthy. It was everyone else’s concern for me as well. And now that I’ve reached that stage, a whole new world has opened up for me. Perhaps I’m just too scared to break through and deal with the responsibilities, consequences, and issues of being healthy. And so I want to get sick, not because its any better, but because it’s a lot easier.