Thinking Not Allowed

I was fifteen - or sixteen - when a doctor told me that I "think too much". He was an opthalmologist and I came by his clinic to have my eyes checked because I had an episode of red-static vision not long before.

I was on my way home from school when my sight went blurry and everything appeared to be speckled like a bad TV reception laced with frequent static images. Only, instead of black and white, they were red and white. Pretty freaky actually. That's why I went to the doctor for some answers.

Clearly, the problem was with my eyes - or so I assumed. The examination showed that my vision was all right. The specialist then told me that the problem was in my thinking too much. He told me that there are times when the brain gets overloaded, it manifests its stress through the vision.

Hnh.

My prescription was to let go of my worries and just relax my thoughts every once in a while. I was then referred to a neurologist. And that really freaked me out more that the static vision did. Because - well, it's my brain we're talking about here. It's the seat of my existence. And just the thought that there MIGHT be something wrong about it disconcerted the hell out of me.

it felt a little bit like there was an implication that I'm crazy. Although, apparently, if the opthalmologist thought that way, he would've referred me to a shrink. For all I know, he wanted to, but was just being diplomatic. I'm not sure. I'm really not.

What I know is this. You don't tell a fifteen year old that she thinks too much. Just be glad at that age, she's really thinking at all. Although, the doctor had a point. Worrying is a bad habit to break.

God, I wish I could turn off the flow of my thoughts like a faucet. All right, time for bed, I have to stop thinking now. Off. Zzzz. It doesn't work that way. This is the reason why I lay awake most nights, seriously considering suing the Sandman of negligence and malpractice.