Truth be told, the reason I’ve been pressing Doctor C for a diagnosis is simple. In a jaded way, I feel like my illness doesn’t really exist until a diagnosis is placed upon it.
I know that this isn’t quite true, because I know how I’ve been feeling for nearly the past year. But there is always the hope that I’ll go to the doctor one day soon and they’ll say, “Surprise! We were wrong. Take this one pill and all of this will be over…”
There are times where I truly feel I am experience all of this outside of myself. I’m aware of what’s going on, but it feels like it’s a million miles away, happening to someone else. I’m the spectator in someone else’s life. It’s all very surreal, really. It’s like, maybe if opt not to think about it, I can will it away. But these attempts, too, have been unsuccessful.