The problem I have with the old GP is that he never saw me. He walked in the room and typed on the computer. He didn’t look at me. He asked a few questions, typed some more, wrote on paper, handed it to me and left me sitting in the room alone wondering what on earth just happened.
I use to sit there and cry. He walked out like that and I just started crying. I asked the nurse why? What’s wrong? She didn’t know. I thought he didn’t like me because I’m fat. I thought he had a problem with fat people and that I disgusted him.
He treated me as if I was beneath him. I spoke to another employee who said others reported the same. I kept going back.
I remember the first time he noticed I lost 10 pounds. He was happy. He looked at me in the eye, he was proud of me. It was like a tossing a dog a cookie. When I showed up again and gained I didn’t know if he was upset over that or was I really so minimal to him that he just couldn’t lower himself to talk to me, to look me in the eye, to be in the room with me longer than five minutes.
I don’t need to scream that I exist but I want to. I don’t have to prove to anyone that I’m worth acknowledging. I don’t have to accept his behavior as my reality or feel the sting of his problem as he ignored me. That is what I’m working on, and I’m working hard. I don’t have to accept his behavior as my reality and that is the greatest truth I’ll hear all day.
I have things to do. I need to study. I have a letter to write, dinner to eat and tea to drink. I have a sale to wrap well and send off to its new home. Pretty pink shells.
Again, I trust that I will always have enough. I will have enough healing to separate myself from his issues. I will have enough on my dinner plate, enough to keep my household going. I will have enough support to manage chaos and enough vision to see good in my future. I will always have enough. I believe that.