Medical gaslighting

Personal project made in conjunction with the poem below, both inspired by my experience with medical gaslighting and misogyny as a woman living with a chronic illness.

"I'm tired", I tell the doctor,
Hoping that sixth one's a charm.
"You're fine, you just need to exercise"
And I wonder how I will find the strength,
To keep trying, hoping that seven is finally my lucky number.
"Good news, you're perfectly healthy"
And how come my body feels like it's on fire?
I see my hair thinning and my mind thicking with fog.
Every month, I lie in pain.
Whether the pain is inside me or inside my body,
All they will give me is the pill
Or diagnose me and leave me uneducated.
I'm tired of reading on my record that I have health anxiety.
Of course I'm anxious, who wouldn't be,
When we are left without answers?
But life is hard, you better get used to it, they say,
If you dare mention that you are depressed.
It's stress, it's your weight, it's PMS.
It's simply what it's like being a girl,
And we keep being mansplained what it's like to be ourselves.
"The clock is ticking" they will insist,
But keep quiet once we reach fifty.
I'm tired of waiting lists and misdiagnosis.
It's not BPD, it's ASD; it's not GAD, it's ADHD.
"And what if hysteria was still a diagnosis?"
I wonder as I begin to heal
From the illness they assured me I didn't have.
Seven was my lucky number, but I know many aren't so lucky.
Even though I'm healing, I'm still tired.
I'm tired of seeing how we continue to be dismissed
By those who are meant to take care of us.