I Don’t Care When You’re Sick but I Still Want Sympathy When I’m Sick

Yo dudes I got sick again. Not sure if you’re aware, but being sick sucks.

I identify as a well person because I’m usually healthy and have no terminal illnesses.

Well person confession: When people tell me they’re sick I usually think it’s their fault for some reason. They probably weren’t exercising, were eating poorly, etc. They were the ones who compromised their immune system.

I have no idea how they’re actually feeling—it’s hard to physically feel someone else’s pain. So when they tell me they’re sick, to their face I’m sympathetic, but deep down I’m just like—get over it. Not pretty, I know.

I wonder if there’s something in evolution that makes it hard to care for sick people, like you just want to leave them behind and reproduce with everyone else.

So when I was sick this past weekend, for the past three days at least, I spent my time orbiting around Venus, which means I was hanging out in my room watching Transparent and doodling, trying to figure out if I should be doing anything else.

It’s tricky because when you’re sick, your brain is COMPROMISED. It’s not working like it should. So that makes everything that you do SUSPECT. The brain is our doorway to perception but what it’s seeing is more like a fun house mirror. So reality is actually quite fragile. Our ability to see it is easily tampered with because we are just biological beings.

And there’s nothing to do except hope to get better and lay as still as possible and watch time kind of slither by. It really did feel like I occupied a different realm. I didn’t know how to relate to well people, who were able-bodied and could just go out and do things without feeling like they were going to die.

It’s also frustrating because I’m not going to remember what this was like at all when I’m well again and it will be just as shocking and alienating the next time I’m sick. And it was just a cold. I’m such a baby, no offense to babies.