Treatment

It won’t be about any prophylaxis, operation or medical intervention. Treatment here would occupy a much higher level in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is a theory that deals with human needs having a certain order. The “pyramid of needs” comprises of the basic physiological needs at the bottom, safety, love and belonging, and esteem on the succeeding three levels. All four lower needs are termed as deficiency needs and these needs must be fulfilled first before satisfying the top most needs, also termed as growth needs, self-actualization and self-transcendence.

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I am a spoiled brat. No questions on that. Growing up as an unico niño with *all* his wants and likes being given to him, I developed a megalomaniac form of narcissistic personality disorder compounded with a unique superiority complex. And the far-fetched but still probable consequence; I may be a borderline autistic. O God, why am I writing this? Disclaimer: I’m mentally fine and that’s from my psychological testing last summer. I might be exaggerating things. So just to be clear, I’m simply vain.

Then, I was all of these: a pampered prince, a self-centered hero and a stubborn king. I had twisted dreams and one by one, I had them come true according to my will. The power-hungry monster inside me slowly overwhelmed me, or so I thought. I began to think I was forever strong, glorious and infallible. Don’t get me wrong, I really was. And I was happy. It was like a game. I dominated the battlefield, and victory so precious was all mine and mine alone.

Alone, indeed. This would be the clincher. I was alone, bitter and frustrated. Then, as everything does, everything fell back into place. Like freezing cold water splashed on my face, illusions vanished and reality set in. I was alone and desperate. And I was clueless to the point of stupidity.

Where did I go wrong? Simple. I thought highly of myself. And you call that egocentrism cum egotism. I skipped Maslow’s hierarchy, aimed for gratification alone, and ignored the rest. I aimed to soar high but didn’t have the “wind beneath my wings” to propel me up. I was weak, and gone were all the delusions of grandeur. I was alone and helpless, or so I thought. The king in fact was a fool. No more, no less.

Thank God.

But still, I cannot deny that I love being treated like a king. I love being pampered like a prince. And the affinity for the limelight will always be there. But, the last two years of my life taught me a lot.

It doesn’t matter if I’m not treated like a celebrity with all the glamour and honors. It doesn’t matter if I’m not treated as the ultimate hero, the victor and the glorious champion of all. All those immature delusions I must outgrow.

Perhaps, all I need now is to be treated as a good son, a loyal friend, and of course, “a spoiled bratty younger brother.”