Doctor’s Orders

There are many things to believe in nowadays. Religions, philosophies, political systems, credos… the list goes on. I personally do not subscribe to any of these. I suppose you could say that I am not much of a “believer.”

I have spend the majority of my twenty-five years on this planet in much pain, both physical and emotional. In fact, I have done many things to try to numb this pain and it usually involved swallowing a bottle of pills. Once, it was a bottle of Tylenol. Another time it was a bottle of Prozac, followed by a bottle of my prescription anti-anxiety pills for good measure. I tried to kill myself twice between the ages of eighteen and nineteen. Much to my chagrin, heroic feats were made to ensure these attempts did not work. Some (including my primary care physician of eight years, who has become somewhat of a mentor to me) would argue that I continued to make attempts at slow suicide throughout my early twenties by engaging in maladaptive behaviors such daily binge drinking, self-mutilation and drug abuse, among other things. Though these things were good at leaving me numb for many years, I was still riddled with pain, fear, and embarrassment. Befuddled and at the end of my rope, I asked my doctor on day, “Why am I still alive? . . . how could my body tolerate all of the abuse that it has taken over the years and yet, still remain alive?”

She replied simply. She told me that I have must have a strong will to live.

So, I suppose you could say that I am somewhat of a believer now. And I believe in this: in the unwavering strength of the human will to live, to thrive, and to succeed, even in the face of the most powerful adversary.