Fragments: Experience | Doctors

Monday was GP day.
I’m convinced that my GP is the only medical professional who actually understands me.
Perhaps because he doesn’t assume he understands me or where I should be.
He spoke to me for half an hour, it was a dialogue, a discussion.
I was unprepared for him saying that I’ve taught him much about mental illness.
I think it was humbling for both of us.

He now manages my meds and blood tests, though recommends I see a professional at least once a year, which I will do because he thinks I should.

Getting more tired now.
Splinters of things coming off the main body of it, sliding away, breaking away like fighter-jets in the sky, graceful, agile and autonomous.
Some things change.
Like drugs. It’s different with drugs.
Some things stay the same.
I remember these things.
I get the distinct impression that when I forget everything else, these things I’ll always remember.

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