By: The one and only GERD
Dear — no, let’s skip the formalities, we’ve known each other long enough. You probably know who it is already, but just to make sure you don’t mistake me for the other guy you hate — AKA lactose intolerance. It’s me, Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease (GERD for short). You call me “the ultimate life ruiner,” and while it lowkey stings, I try to convince myself that it’s just a term of endearment for you at this point. You may be wondering why I’m suddenly reaching out to you, considering that we’ve technically known each other for a good couple of years now, but we never had a proper conversation. Like a real, one-on-one, heart-to-heart talk. They say “better late than never,” right? So here I am, being the bigger “person” so to speak, and initiating this difficult but much needed conversation . . . via a letter. Finally, GERD gets heard.
It’s truly upsetting seeing how estranged we’ve become and how much you’ve come to despise me, when all I’ve ever done was be here for you through thick and thin — I’ve always been the one constant in your life. Who was there for you when you’d pull all nighters studying, while eating spicy instant noodles just to stay awake? That’s right — me. Who did you use as an excuse to avoid consuming culinary biohazards, like the suspicious chocolate chip cookies made by your coworker’s five-year-old who wipes his runny nose with his hands? ME. “Sorry — I can’t have chocolate, it’s a GERD trigger,” you said, just last week. And not once, in all these years of our union, have you ever thanked me. One might say I’m close to your heart, because . . . you know . . . the heartburn. But I don’t think you feel that way, and it really hurts my feelings!
I’d also like to point out that framing me as the villain in this story has been more than unfair. From your perspective, I ruin the fun by giving you stomachaches and heartburn, but have you ever considered how your actions affect me? I want to have some peace and quiet around here, but how can I when you consume foods that summon me from the pits of the intestinal chambers? Your doctor gave you a list of trigger foods to avoid, and yet you actively choose to consume said trigger foods. And don’t get me started on those disgusting fruit-flavoured calcium carbonate tablets that you take whenever you get acid reflux. Would you want to be doused in powdery fruit-flavoured chalk? The golden rule is to “treat others the way you want to be treated,” so why is it okay to do that to me? And remember when you unfairly blamed me for giving you a stomachache after eating triple cheese pizza, when it was — I’d argue — mainly lactose intolerance’s fault? And yet I took all the blame until you finally decided to get that checked out. You complain about me being “sour,” but wouldn’t you be sour too if you were me?
As heartburn-inducing as it was to write this out, it had to be done, because you really ought to reflect and take responsibility for your own actions rather than blaming me for this whole ordeal. I hope that after reading this letter, you finally see the situation from my point of view and show me a bit more compassion.
— GERD
