"We rarely use the word cure," said the psychiatrist to his patient. "But, after five years of therapy it is my pleasure to pronounce you completely cured." To his surprise, an unhappy

"We rarely use the word 'cure,'" said the psychiatrist to his patient. "But after five years of therapy, it is my pleasure to pronounce you completely cured."

To his surprise, the patient looked completely unhappy—almost devastated.

"Cured?" the patient muttered, shaking his head.

"Yes!" the psychiatrist beamed. "You no longer suffer from paranoia, obsessive thoughts, or your fear of pigeons controlling the government. Isn’t that wonderful?"

The patient sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess... but now what am I supposed to do with my life?"

"What do you mean?"

"Doc, for the past five years, my entire identity has been built around my problems! I had a support group, online forums, therapy appointments… even a tinfoil hat collection! What am I supposed to do now? Get a job? Talk to normal people? Watch the news without yelling at the TV?"

The psychiatrist leaned back, thinking. "Well… you could always go back to your hobbies, rediscover yourself, maybe take up a new passion."

The patient gasped. "You mean like… find a new disorder?"

The psychiatrist sighed. "No, that’s not exactly what I meant."

The patient nodded, standing up. "Got it, Doc! I'll go develop a new issue. Maybe I'll start believing my cat is telepathic! See you in six months!"