I got in a bit of spat in my support group from a guy who was the opposite of supportive. (It’s not the groups fault, sometimes new members are angry) He ranted… I left.
But the guy sort of ripped into me for “swallowing” my diagnosis… that I just drank the cool aid and I’m weak and that’s why I go along with what the docs say and I have no fight left… how stupid of me to just take these pills without question…
My biggest question was… “why do you care what I do?” (I wish I had the cojones to actually say that)
I’ve been pondering… if I fight my diagnosis, then I won’t take my meds and that won’t help me fight the Sz.
As I look at this little glass with my meds in them, I have to fight myself to swallow them two times a day. My brain is screaming out that I’m not ill anymore. I’m doing so well lately at functioning through my day… No more pills, I’m cured…
But then I have to tell myself… “do you have time to spend in the hospital? Because it’s these little pills that keep you from going back”
Parts of my head argue with other parts. Somedays it’s really hard and it takes a half hour, but I take my meds. Other days I’m on auto pilot and just take them.
So, Ok, maybe I “gave up” and swallowed my diagnosis. But in doing that… in finally accepting it and not thinking that it’s all a big mistake or misunderstanding, I find I have more will power to fight this illness.