Peeps, I passed Step 3. Boo-yah! 

That means: no more Step exams, which in turn means it’s all psychiatry from now on. I don’t have to worry about renal tubular acidoses or touching people for a physical exam anymore. 

It’s a weird feeling, haha. But another one bites the dust. The end of an era ūüôā 

And life? Life is good. In general. Blips here and there, and this was an emotionally/physically taxing week…but it’s all good. And I love my Russian, heehee! 

No purging! Yay! 

However, I’ve lost some weight. Not that I’m complaining. I’m just mildly surprised. I’m just letting my body do its thing, but in addition I’ve been skipping some meals. And it has nothing to do with weight control and everything to do with me being a lazy ass that doesn’t want to cook or buy groceries. My kitchen looked like a college kitchen up to 2 days ago. 

Meanwhile, I’ve restarted Prozac. Basically for prevention. I stopped it a while ago but was starting to feel in the hole again lately so I restarted it just in case. I have another month of medicine coming up soon so I want to be mentally prepared. 

And, I’m studying for Step 3. FML. I hate it and I’m failing hard in the practice questions. 

Going to sleep now. I don’t want to work…

So far so good. Knock on wood. Don’t know how many days it’s been but it’s better to not feel the pressure of numbers.

However, I weighed myself at the Russian’s today (I don’t have a scale). The number was a pleasant surprise. A number I hadn’t seen in a while. A low one.

But I don’t intend on doing anything about it. At least nothing extreme. I’ll just continue eating as I’ve been doing recently.

On another note, I was going to meet his mom this weekend. Crazy stuff (me? meet a guy’s mom?!). But it didn’t happen. Mom was tired, I quote the Russian “I think she’s having a little fit because she’s tired”. So, next time. But I’m bummed because I’ve said “so, next time” a few times already. But whatever. Best to just focus on making things good and happy with the Russian (we need it).

Meanwhile, intern year…keeps happening. It’s all become a blur, honestly. It’s weird. I have it very easy compared with other specialties and other psychiatry programs. And yet, I still find things to not like. Then again, that’s my reaction to literally *everything*.

I need to get my groove back on. Been down for too long. Too many things with the Russian, too much “un-inspiration” at work.

Somewhere along the way I stopped focusing on the positives and started focusing on the negatives again. Granted, it’s important to talk about the negatives sometimes, but I’ve been focusing too much on them.

Living without therapy is tougher than I thought it would be.

 

Yes, that was a play on the 90s song. 

Well, tomorrow will be a week since I last purged. 

And it feels wonderful to not be in close contact with my vomit on a daily basis. However, it crossed my mind today at lunch. But I was at work so I was able to distract myself. 

What I can’t distract myself from, and this is the first (and maybe last?) statement I make of this nature here…is the current political arena and things that are happening. It’s difficult not to talk about that because it shakes me to the core and makes my blood boil, honestly. 

I just want whoever is reading this or will ever read this to know, that my blog is a safe place for you. No matter who you are or what’s tormenting you… 

No purging. I last purged 2 days ago. So far so good. 

But the real test is the weekend. When I don’t have work to distract me from the fullness that’s when things get tough. Work is what distracts me the most, nothing gets close to it. 

But omg…the weekend. Please make it start already. I want to sleep and just live my life. Eff work. 

…is to not purge. 

As it is with every week. 

I purged almost every day for the month of December. And then I traveled with the Russian for New Year’s weekend and decided “no more” after having an almost purge-free weekend. I can’t deal with this. I don’t want to. 

The most I’ve been purge free for now is a few days, still not a full week. I didn’t purge today. That’s 24 hours purge-free. Small triumphs. We’ll see what happens the rest of the week. Unfortunately, I’m not very hopeful. 

I don’t want to be eating disordered. And I *know* the only thing keeping me from fully recovering is not dealing with the fear of being fat. Because I don’t want to be fat. Get it? The nonsense somehow makes sense. 

I keep running away from it, but I know that’s what I have to work on if I want full recovery. 

But it’s terrifying, honestly. 

In the meantime, I’ll settle for being just mildly eating disordered. 

I know I’ve been terrible. A months long absence. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?

This place feels almost foreign to me. Even the name. “Borderline Med”?

But then I ended up cutting my wrist in a 20mg Ambien-induced state after becoming devastated this past Sunday night and I realized more than ever that the struggle will always be there and I will always have to keep fighting this crap. “This crap” right now mainly being the eating disorder. I hadn’t cut in more than a year I think, wtf.

My mood is fine. Although last week was effed up and it was a wake up call. I have to take care of myself. Which is why this week was better, putting more effort into putting myself back on track.

I’m halfway done with intern year, first year, of residency. That’s pretty insane. But I feel pretty lost and still can’t find my footing in this place, much less this world. I’m in a rut. And it’s my fault. I’ve let myself go.

But mainly I just wanted to update you and ask: if I come back, can we start over?

I’m gonna try my best. I promise.

Much love.

 

Eh.

Took a hiatus. I’m sorry. But hopefully I’m back. Making no promises with my crappy schedule. But here I am. As I told one of my patients yesterday: let’s take it day by day, ok?

So. I did 2 months of psychiatry. I loved it, the hospital, the patients (mostly), the staff, everything. I felt stupid at first, then got the hang of it. Then on my last day I did an impromptu half hour teaching session about psychopharmacology with the medical students and I thought: well, I actually know more than I do. And that was awesome obviously.

But then I started medicine. A month of it. It’s been a week. Let’s just say I’ve found myself teary eyed in the bathroom or when I’m alone in the work room at random times. Yeah, it’s that bad.

And it’s not the team I’m working with. The team is great (except the attending, more on that below). It’s the fucking schedule. Minimum 12 hour shifts (that mostly turn to 13 or 14), 6 days a week. I bet you can guess which day of the week I have off, judging by the date on this post….and how frequent my potential posts will be.

The attending I started off with was good. He was chill and relaxed. The attending I have now is an overachiever. And I don’t bode well with that. I’m the chill type of person, by doctor standards, that is. No wonder I ended up in psychiatry, it’s the chill people specialty. I did enough overachieving during my teens. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

I feel stupid 24/7 and it’s taking a toll on me. Last time I did medicine was a year ago. “Rusty” is an understatement for my current status. It’s like I never went to med school and need a refresher course on everything. At least during my 2 months of psychiatry I felt marginally stupid but knew some things. Here it’s just straight up embarrassing every time I have to round on patients in front of the team, especially the attending.

My attending gave me feedback yesterday. He said nothing I didn’t know already, about my performance anxiety apparently having no reason to be as I seem more sure of myself, about how I should brush up on what my patients have to refresh my memory….but what really hit me was him saying “study on those topics even if it’s 2 minutes”.

Haha! Dude. SERIOUSLY?! I have no time to take my trash out in a whole week and my apartment stinks, let alone study. And let’s be honest, I don’t care about the topics. As terrible as that sounds. I just want to be done with these four weeks and marginally pass, setting the bar as low as possible so that the next psychiatry cointern that comes around doesn’t get treated like shit. I just want to know the basics so I’ll know when to recognize a medical problem in my psychiatry patients in the future.

Dude: just tell me what to do. And I’ll do it. Don’t expect me to be interested, though.

He did, however, reiterate something my program director has told me a few times before and something I’m proud of: that it shows I have good rapport with my patients. And really, as long as I know the basics and have good rapport with my patients, I’ll be set. No need for me to overachieve. It’s not like I have the time for it, either way. I’ll worry about studying for real when I get back to psychiatry and neurology rotations (and I’ll have the time for it).

So, medicine…it sucks and I would rather do 10 batches of laundry in a single day than do this for a prolonged amount of time (and trust me, I HATE doing laundry).

Yesterday I couldn’t take it anymore. A patient started masturbating as I was interviewing him. Yes, you read that right. Hello, trigger! Hello, feeling disgusted and used! And of course, nobody in the team gave a shit except the females. Then another patient’s family was driving me nuts with wanting special treatment for the patient.

And already my head had gone over to dark places because another patient was irritated with me when I went to talk to her. I found myself thinking about suicide, yes, solidly for the first time in a while.

I was able to manage the thoughts. But yesterday I couldn’t take it anymore. I got to my apartment at 9:30pm and just started bawling. How can anyone live through this? Why is this necessary? I just want to help people and lead a balanced life. Is that too hard to ask for?

I texted the Russian. And he got worried. He came over. Cuddled and held me while I cried like a baby and just let everything out of my chest. Everything including our current crappy relationship situation, or whatever it is, because both of us have shitty schedules and barely interact. Started crying even harder after I told him I didn’t want to get depressed again (he knows I’ve been depressed, although not in detail….I’ll get around to that when things are more stable between us).

And I guess I just needed a good cry and a day off, because today I feel better. I was able to finally clean my apartment.

I’m not depressed. Not yet. And I hope not ever again. But I know myself better than anyone else, and I know that if I don’t get enough sleep or enough balance in my life, I will fall down that slippery slope quick. And medicine is exactly the type of environment that depression festers in.

No wonder there’s so much physician suicide. But that’s nothing new to me, really. It’s just more tangible when you’re no longer a student and are actually in the front lines. I honestly think it’s unnecessary for one to work 14 hours straight, 6 days a week, and expect to be ON all those hours…sometimes having to skip breakfast or lunch. Nobody gets a sticker for toughing it out. What’s the point, then? My attending went so far as to make the medical students rotating with us come to hospital tomorrow, on a holiday. His reason? “Well, in my day, when I was a medical student…” Seriously dude? Times a-change. Get over it. I have to go because it’s my work, but the med students? Come on.

And…I’ve gotten more shit from my medicine patients in one week than I did from my psychiatry patients in 2 months. Oh the irony. Especially since people think psychiatry patients are “the difficult patients”. Pfffffft. Sure.

I try my best. I really do. And my intentions are good. But it’s difficult not to have your morale eroded quickly with so much crap going on.

And that, my friends, is my current “life”, for lack of a better word. Everyone keeps telling me it will be over soon, but soon isn’t soon enough. I want it to be over now.

And because I like to finish things on a lighter note: it seems things with the Russian are turning more solid/stable every day. His schedule is going to be better now, apparently. Can’t say the same for me, unfortunately. We’ll see what happens.

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