One of my writings from the diagnosis process of the last 2 months.
Titled: In Your Chair of Assumptions
In a state of confusion
I’m trying to see
Of What is a core personality trait
And what isn’t really me.
My whole life you’ve used labels
To try and make sense
Of my behavior and emotions
That you couldn’t place.
You had this unrelenting need
To put it all neatly into a box
Of expectations ,Of should’s and have to’s
Categorizing it all By what society wants.
Your standardized tests didn’t really ask
What my experiences really were.
They only were limited by an ABC options
As I read across the page.
And even worse, when I couldn’t decide
Because nothing fit how I was feeling
You said just to pick one
because it doesn’t matter all that much.
Did it ever occur to anyone
That I feel above all else
That I am me and uniquely made?
And at the end of the day,
it doesn’t matter how you diagnose my brain?
But did you ever consider
That I have a view and an interpretation
Of what it means to be me?
that all my life could not be summed up
By some personality test
Of who you guessed I’d be.
Instead what remained
as a series of stories untold.
It was way easier for you
To sit in your chair of assumptions
Without considering how I’d be impacted.
And all it did when the tester time rang
Was cause a ringing in my ears, and
The rattling in my brain
to continue to bounce about
Leaving me in a state of disarray.
You created a monster of self pity and doubt
as I lay with the moon shining through my window
Trying to figure it all out.
The back and forth conversations with my self
Continue throughout the dark night
I say to myself, that you must be right
Because at the end of the day you possess a degree,
higher then me no doubt
why else do I pay you a fee?
But even with that potentially being so
I lay there trying to decipher
What all your reports say
Vs the reality that I’ve lived
And the most horrible fear of all
That I’m beyond help
And it’s simply to late
Or god forbid you’ve always been right.