Tell me your story.
It’s sort of a question wrapped up in a command. And, really, where would I begin‽ My story is so dang long! How about reading my memoir. Too long. My blog. Too many posts. Psychology Today blog. Where’s the post on your story? (Hint: it’s the first one and link is in the card you’re scrolling past.) These are all the reasons I can imagine why they ask me, “what’s your story?” instead of recognizing I’ve probably answered this question a bazillion times already and never want to hear it again!
But then how many know how health insurance works with their endless asking about my story? Or rehab with their endless god-awful symptom questionnaires. Just give me an objective test already — shorter, accurate, not dependent on my mood, and doesn’t require my brain power — I mean, is my pain a 3 or 5 today?, my fatigue an 8 or 11? Amazing how a skilled clinician can look at my qEEG (single electrode or multiple) and instantly know my fatigue, agitation, anxiety, etc etc. No need for me to come up with a number.
But people who meet me online wouldn’t know that or how looonnnng my story is. Yet I think today, when a person is on social media, they could start by reading my profile and the links in it. They’re there for a reason! I do that for others; also, I read a few of their tweets. “But Shireen,” I hear you say, “not everyone is like you!” Give me a break. The least a person can do is read another’s profile and links in it before asking any questions! And then ask me a question based on what they’ve read, a narrow-focused question that shows they’ve made an effort.