Which Archetype Shall I Be?

 

Which archetype shall I be? 

We know the archetypes of main characters in literature: outlaw, lover, explorer, magician, hero, sage, innocent, caregiver, jester or rebel, to name a few. There are archetypes of health too: data-gatherers, wounded healers, warriors, and others. Certainly someone has studied these personas more deeply than I. 

Which of the archetypes is sick of it all? I'm actually sick of thinking about illness. Sick of it. Sick of the appointments, the medications, the copays, the forms, and the waiting rooms. Sick of making accommodations for the illness. Sick of the searing pain in my hips, the blinding headaches, the bone-crushing pain in my feet--sick of it. Making accommodations for pain is like a part-time job that I didn't want in the first place. I am sick of researching the medications, reading about the side-effects and contemplating my future with this thing that never goes away.

Which archetypal person unceasingly bemoans the daily aches, pains, and metrics of an illness? I don't want to adopt that persona.

Which archetypal person adopts a quiet stoicism and rails against the illness, tirelessly exhibiting bravery in the face of it all? No thanks. I don't need to be a public poster-person for bravery in the face of hardship.

Which parts of my existing persona get pushed aside to make room for a new illness persona? Isn't it enough to have the illness and the struggles that ensue let alone allow the illness to dominate every thought and conversation? 

Do I actually belong to an archetypal category whether I want to or not? If I choose to deal with the illness quietly and not discuss its pervasive effect on the life of the individual and everyone in my life, don't I inadvertently add to the ignorance, suffering, and learning curves of myself and others?

"You're an inspiration!" says someone who finds out through a third party that I have rheumatoid arthritis. Really? Because I don't want to be. Not for this. I'd rather inspire someone to re-decorate a room or organize a clothing drive.

Can't I just be sick of the nightmarish and ghoulish carnival of symptoms without being cast or thrust into a category or role with expectations?