Absence of Proof

I have been plagued by a growing sense that my most recent syndrome is something along the line of Psychiatric Schizophrenia. In June I will be celebrating the 40th anniversary of my first therapy session. Most of the medications prescribed then are illegal now. ALL of the names have changed. The list of names is longer than the name list of my most romantic female peers. I have not been able to bring myself to do the math, but I do believe the costs are far above the national inflation rate. For certain, it is my largest household expense. All without a shred of physical proof. None. There are still no physical tests for any of the smorgasbord of syndromes in my personal history, or my family.
I am feeling much better these days. The recent episodes seem to have run their course. Still, I don't know if I am going to be able to conquer these doubts. Priests have been treating symptoms for thousands of years at a fraction of the cost without the need for a new dictionary every few years.
Small steps. This would be the venting step. We see how it gels.