Over Medicated, Under Meditated

Tonight I was told that I don’t take my health seriously. The same person who told me that he didn’t believe in everlasting love told me this declaration. Why I listen to anything this man says is beyond me, but at least he helps me to think about my beliefs. Sometimes we need to be sure we know what those are.

Anyway, I digress.

Recently, I have been battling uncontrollable migraines, neck and back pain, as well as numbness. Oh! And let’s not forget the strep throat that I have presently. I am a firm believer that a spiritually healthy person cannot be physically unhealthy, and therefore I look to what could be bothering me to cause such a violent reaction that I can barely open my eyes at all some days. The cause is pretty obvious to me and to those around me, so I deal with it best I can until I can find a balance. I have also, in the meantime, visited the urgent care twice, my PCP once, and a neurologist. YES! You read that right, I have been to a brain doctor, and YES it is in there (in case you were wondering).

I thought that going to these physicians and at least hearing what they had to say was sufficient, but they also want me to fill my body with chemicals without actually giving me a diagnosis. I’m not really comfortable with that. I don’t want to treat a symptom; I want to treat the CAUSE! So I am even more convinced that I need to get my poop in a group and heal myself emotionally.

But this guy, or in the words of all my favorite mobsters, “this fuckin’ guy” tells me that I don’t take my health seriously and that he cares about me and that I spend too much time alone. He says that suicide is what happens when people spend too much time alone and don’t take care of themselves. He insulted me by saying that my line of thinking is “Lilliputian” (yeah, I had to look it up, too) and that “illness does not rely nor respond to emotional states or spiritual awareness, it is based on molecular malfunction and cellular disharmony.”

Well, MISTER KNOW-IT-ALL, let me tell you some facts:

The placebo effect is completely reliant on someone BELIEVING that they are healed or being made better, cancer patients have healed their cancers, and miracles have happened everyday. All based on a positive attitude and the BELIEF that they were going to be okay.

I know that I am going to be okay. But I also know that I have a choice to make myself better, or to continue to slowly kill myself through these radiating headaches and infections. I can stop them at any time. I refuse to let anyone take that choice away from me either, because in this life, my choices are the most important things that I have. The best part about it is knowing that I just need to decide. I can decide to wake up and not feel anything. Or I can throw fits, which I am pretty much an expert at, and make myself sick all over again.

Each day that I get up, I know that I have decided to live another day (in cooperation with my big beautiful God, that is), but I know that had if I really decided on a different outcome, I could begin that spiral at any time.

It is also my decision to believe in the power of the mind and the power of love. No one will take those beliefs from me either, especially someone who is so uncomfortable with himself that he makes all those around him unhappy. He belittles them and disrespects them. Luckily, he has no power over me (I sooooo want to quote the Labyrinth here, but I’ll spare you my David Bowie obsession).

At the end of our debate, well, his lecture because I wasn’t about to waste my time arguing with a wall, he sent me a picture of his scar. This is the scar from when he tried to kill himself. He tried because he felt alone and sick. He still feels that way, but he doesn’t want to feel better. He doesn’t know how and isn’t really open to the options. I found this picture quite offensive because suicide is something I have battled with for a long time. I don’t always want to be in this world, but I figure that there is a reason for this journey and I am too damn nosey not to at least get a glimpse of what it is before I check out. However, for him to tell me that my choices are incorrect, and that his way of thinking is better is just baffling.

I may look like an earth-loving, tree-hugging hippie, but I’m free. I’m free to be happy or sad, to love or to….well, I don’t hate…maybe dislike, to go to a western doctor or to practice Qigong. I love my spirit and I respect her enough to let her decide how she wants to do things. If she wants to suffer and lie in bed for a couple of days, I let her, but I guarantee that she is too damn stubborn to stay that way for long. She has FAR too many ripples to make in this ocean of life, one drop at a time. Plus, she has a lot of people that depend on her love everyday. That in itself is worth opening her eyes for. But she is going to do it on her own terms without poison and with intention.

I will heal myself, MISTER KNOW-IT-ALL, and I don’t care if you believe me or not. All that matters is that I do!

I’m putting my boots on.

Love and light!

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Comments
2 Responses to “Over Medicated, Under Meditated”
  1. Sam says:

    Good for you, you are starting to sound like yourself again! I know that you can WILL yourself to feel better and not let all that is going on around you to bring you down. Love you friend. (P.S. Can we be done talking to the “Mister Know-It-All” guy now, he is not good for your soul.

    • myhisha says:

      I’m not talking to him in any real capacity, but I’d feel guilty if something happened to him. I’m just here to show him that there is a better way than the way he lives. Other than that, he knows we are just friends.

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