The entanglement of self and sickness became a mirrored distortion, a fun house I feared I was never going to escape, when I realized that I couldn’t tell whether my “self” was attacking “myself” without “my” knowledge or influence. Was it true that every time I got stressed about my work or had a fight with Jim “I” was making “myself” sick? Who was “I” and who was “myself,” and which had intention, and which didn’t? Did intention matter?
