Monday, January 9, 2012
Today, I sat in a doctor's office. Alone. I have always made a point of going alone, from the time I was really young. It never mattered. Then-one day, my neurologist said something. "Where's your family?". I had to think-I was so used to going alone. It never bothered me. But it bothered him so much-I developed a complex. That I was not capable of living alone-living my own life. I was hurt, yes, but? I wonder now if all the noise of my doctors made me doubt myself-if somehow I wasn't living up to their perceptions of me. I went through a period of time after that feeling terrible-because,in all truth, my family-my father and sisters-never did figure out how to handle me sick. Now? My dad has started asking. He wants to compare physical therapy notes, and doctor visits. I don't. I humor him-but this was my struggle. Mine alone. I appreciate the friendships I have, and the kindnesses that got me through. But I never wanted to be a burden, never wanted to be less than. So-today-I laughed when the doctor diagnosed allergies. After all, EVERYONE has allergies. And that's all I want to be now. An ordinary girl. Who happens to be dreaming in NYC.