I’m sick, I think. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be feeling miserable.
Maybe my throat is sore, or my nose is sniffly, or I feel a twinge of unusual exhaustion. Something leads my brain to think that illness is quickly setting in, and I despair.
But here’s the thing: it never happens. Every time I think to myself I think I’m getting sick, I just… don’t.
One would think that I would have caught on to this mind trick by now, but I sure have not. Instead, whenever I actually do become ill, it seems to come from nowhere. BAM. SICK. GO TO BED NOW.
The last time I was truly ill (not counting miscellaneous tummy aches or runny noses), I was taken off-guard by how taken off-guard I was. One day, my eyes were super itchy. The next day, I could barely speak. I don’t know if the two are related – I doubt itchy eyes are a symptom of pneumonia, but I shudder to think that I somehow rubbed some germs into my eyes and that’s how I got sick. Ew.
Regardless, my point is this: I wondered this morning if I get into the habit of telling myself I have terrible diseases, if that would somehow ward them off from me entirely.
Though I suppose I think I’m getting cancer isn’t the best mantra, eh?
the sloppy copy 