Who's truly the sick one here?

It's almost the norm to treat singlehood as a disease. Even those who willingly stay single might even imply that they're sick in some way and don't want to be attached like normal people would like to be. Let me rephrase that: even those who want to stay single still define their singlehood against attachment and might even adhere to the label as an excuse to just bitch about their situation, their entire life.

Personally, I thought it was normal for me to be single until a friend told me that she can picture me with someone. I'm not mad at her for telling me that, but I am mad at myself for even thinking about it. My misandry, however shaky, kept me above that kind of worry, until I had a breakdown. When something close to me is disturbed, like family, friends or my home, everything else falls. This concern, this worry that "I'm nothing without a man" didn't consume me fully until I got sick on other levels: until I lost my voice, lost my sanity in my living quarters, and lost my sleep, all at the same time. I worried about loneliness when I was sick; I wasn't sick because I was lonely. That's why I don't believe singlehood is a disease, unless one treats it like one in their mind. Chances are they're already diseased in some other way.

So we can be diseased with singlehood, or diseased with neediness. What can we do in the meantime? Sleep it off and take our meds and just rest and relax on the whole matter. That should do a world of good. Eventually being single won't be as bad as seeing plaid spots on the bathtub.

"But I thought you said you're nothing without a man."
"Oh please, I was troubled that night."
or
"Honey, I was delirious. I also saw plaid spots on the bathtub." -Samantha Jones