Not Too Well

Entry 2: Part 1

I am currently writing from a hot, glorious bubble bath, and I feel positively blissful about it. People don't take enough baths anymore, don't you think? I mean, my apartment back in London doesn't even have one, just a stand-up shower that doesn't even let me unwind after a hard day's work. I honestly think that the last time I've had a good, de-stressing bath was most likely back when I wore my hair in pigtails and went to primary school.

Even then, those baths were nothing like the ones I've been getting at the wellness center. It's all specialty salts and calming incense here––the kind of stuff that makes you wonder if you're going to fall asleep, you're relaxing so hard. Best of all, I've been here for only three days so far, and this is actually the sixth bath I've had.

Needless to say, I'm really, really liking it here.

The abundance of baths I've been getting is actually a result of the wellness center's suggested "cure" for me. That's right––apparently I'm ill. But like, not really. That sounds a little weird, I know, but it's a cute concept.

Remember when Rosemary told me how the staff would be assessing what treatments I'll need everyday? Well, it turns out they have this really cool program going, where theses treatments are treated like . . . well, actual treatments. She told me how when you get to the center, the doctor diagnoses you with an "illness" of some sort. The illness usually has something to do with what brought you to a spa in the first place––feeling tense, not getting enough sleep, and other things like that. When they've figured out what your illness is, they then choose the proper spa treatments to make you "healthy" again.

The wellness center's top doctor is a tall, slender-looking guy with what seems to be a permanently soft expression. On my first check up, just walking into the room and looking at him was enough to make me feel infinitely calmer. With an equally soft voice, he explained the whole illness concept to me a little further than Rosemary did. It helped me understand.

"You see, we believe that over time, humans slowly start to get diseased just in the way they lead their lives," he told me.

"Isn't that a little dramatic?" I'd asked. I was quite skeptic about it all in the beginning. That meditation was great, don't get me wrong, but diseases?

(But then again, the only way you're allowed to communicate with people outside the wellness center is through good, old-fashioned snail mail, so it seems to me like this place has a real flair for dramatics.)

Of course, the doctor didn't think so. "I would hardly use that word to describe our methods here. In fact, the most dramatic part of this world has to be your focus and devotion to the things that only plague you further. Lilith, I want you to think about all the things that afflict you. Could it be technology? Vanity? Money?"

"I dunno. I guess all of that?"

"Just as I thought. The source of your illness is an endless search that is never complete. When you've purchased the newest gadget, there's already another in stores. When you look good enough, the societal expectation changes. When you've reached your financial goal, you don't settle, but raise the bar higher. And so you work harder. You focus on those things instead of ever giving a thought about your own self, and your own wellbeing."

He shook his head at that, looking truly disgusted. I always used to hate people who talked that way about the world, but the look on his face made me want to drop all my past thoughts and agree with him. You know, maybe I only ever hated those people because I didn't want to admit the flaws in my life.