Somethings are to funny and unavoidable in life. Right now un-pack and re-pack my suitcase everyday, this started in March 2012.
I told my doctor i was running away and he said will i ever see you again. This confused me and my mind became empty, so i know he is looking at me with this smile waiting for an answer. So i said, i will be back in two weeks.
I wanted more from him about my statement and got none. He continued with his prodding and poking and carrying on like i said nothing. Did he not care? Turn around, cough, does this hurt. NO. I’m singing, in my head, i’m running away . . .Waiting and wondering what else, to say, to get this Doctor to respond.
Do you smoke how many do you smoke in a day . . . No i quit, Remember . . .December 11, 2012. He scribbles and writes things down in a fashion i can’t decipher. So for all i know he is writing on paper that i am insane. Minutes go by and this doctor does this fantastic medical examination on me, while i think in my mind that maybe what i got brave and said to him, [i am running away] is to be said to a different kind of doctor, [head shrink]. So whatever.
When the doctor is finished with me, and his observations, he sits very still, looking down at his papers, jotting this down, and that down, every once in a while, glances at me, sitting there, blabbing about another problem with myself. Like, oh yeah, in side my head, when i shake it, i hear this tinkle . . .You know, like a burnt out light-bulb, you know, like when you shake a burnt out light-bulb, that sound it makes, tinkle tinkle tinkle.
I hear little snickers from time to time coming from the Doctor as he sits and writes his little secrets about me. Then i’m really not sure what to do or say . . .So i stand and put my coat on. And somehow this triggers a movement in this doctor and he stands and tells me to sit.
Now tell me why you want to run away.
I became shocked. I did not know what to say. Do i spill the beans? I say i don’t know, and he looks at me, reaches behind himself and pulls his chair and sits down . . .There must be a reason you want to leave, why do you feel you need to run away. And he sits there right in front of me waiting.
Now he’s done it . . .He has confronted me in this matter and i do it . . .I go for broke . . .I spill the beans. Blah blah blah blah, and blah blah and blah. So you’re a clean freak . . .What, no.
Then i look down at my hands and close them both into balls and sit and wait. I wait because he swings his chair back around and starts to scribble faster this time, looking at me from time to time while i do my best, to say i’m not a clean freak . . .Everything is so dirty. This time, he stands and tells me to stand . . .Look at my finger. Follow it from side to side. Look up, look down, what is he doing, i wonder. Turn your head to the left, to the right. Shake your head . . .what do you hear . . .Oh, i smile . . .tinkle. Do you have headaches. Sometimes. I will send you for a M.R.I. What is that. A scan of your head. You lie in a big machine and it takes pictures of your brain.
There is nothing the doctor can do for me inside body wise, as i am 100% healthy . . .It is my brain that needs altering at times and he offered antidepressants. But i don’t take pills and he knows this of me and it is kind of okay with him, because, he knows, i know, he does not take any pills too.