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Self-Medicating with Social Media
How I use social media as an alternative to living
I sit on the red carpet of medical examination rooms, trying to dance the delicate line between shifting to get into a more comfortable position and trying not to rip a hole in the paper sheet that lined the examination bench. I think about all the people that have sat on the pleather bench before me. And of all the butts — clothed or not — that have accidentally broken through the paper seal. Then I stop wiggling when I think about the accumulation of total butt germs that could touch my butt.
I shake off that disturbing, irrational thought, and focus in front of me. I watch my feet dangle off the edge of the bench like I’m a child again, and I feel like one as I sit and wait expectantly for the doctor to come into the room — waiting for an adult to tell me what’s wrong and then fix it. My chest is tight with anxiety as I think about the possibilities of life-changing diagnoses that could await me.
I’m 26. But even now, I sometimes find myself looking for a real adult. And I’m almost always horrified when I realize that now — I am that adult.
The nurse that ushered me into the room pops back in to take my temperature and check my blood pressure. She radiates warmth and normalcy when she smiles and asks if I have any weekend…
