Dreamin’

When I was young I dreamt of becoming a nun. I guess I just landed in another type of institution.

I also dreamt of being Cinderella. But when your 37 years old, have already fallen in love with who you thought was Prince Charming in your 20s, have a sister and a brother, and have a mental illness, you realize that you must let go of some dreams. You must especially let go of both of these dreams when you are older and don’t exactly fit into virgin territory.

I have already let go of the idea of becoming a famous actress. I can’t imagine all of the press covering my schizophrenic breakdown and how much fun they would have coming up with headlines:

“She believes she is from SARS.”

“She is paranoid about people from West Nile. She thinks that they bite.”

“At least it’s not another case of Mad Cow disease.”

But as far as these made-up headlines resemble contagious diseases, I already had two nervous breakdowns. It’s rather good in another way that I am not a famous actress, otherwise I would probably give all of my earnings prior to the breakdowns to Scientology and Tom Cruise. I would meet Tom Cruise and he would convince me to stop taking my medication whereupon I would listen to him and when the press took my picture and all of the flashbulbs went off I could turn to Tom and say, “Look, you were right! Aliens!”

But I am getting off topic. I may have schizophrenia, but I am the sanest person that I know. I may at one point have wanted to miss a doctor’s appointment but my better judgment prevailed and now I can safely say that I enjoy free eyeglasses and free medication.

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