Strange Days

I’ve been logging on here all day wanting to write something but not knowing what. So, I’m just gonna wing it. Sorry if this post makes absolutely no sense.

Yesterday I had my second therapy session with M this week. I felt terrible afterwards because I felt I wasted her time. I was completely uncooperative and barely spoke. I just listened to what she said. It was a short session, she mainly just spoke about my not expressing my emotions. She almost begged me to please express myself, be it good or bad emotions.

I told her I wanted to do the partial hospitalization program. She agreed it is a good decision for me. Let’s see what happens. It worries me how taking a week off medical school will affect me, though. 1 week of medical school equals so much material your head will explode. So, naturally, I’m going to have to structure myself, organize myself…force myself to make it work.

Today I’ve just spent the whole day studying, or at least trying to. I keep getting distracted, as usual, and can barely focus. Still, it’s an overall weird day for me, for some reason. I think it’s because I’m blocking my emotions just so I can study a bit.

I decided that, for now, I’m not going to take a leave of absence or quit medical school. Who knows when I’ll be confronted with this question again…but I can’t let depression win the battle. M told me she thinks it’s depression speaking whenever I say I don’t like medical school. She’s probably right. Depression makes you uninterested in everything, it makes you want to curl up in a corner and rot. I’m not going to just take an important decision like that lightly and quit. So, for now, I’m staying, even if I feel I don’t want to.

I’ve been thinking about how long I’ve been depressed, and how much I wish I wasn’t. I wonder if this pain and heaviness is ever going to go away. Sometimes I imagine myself being depressed a year from now during my 3rd year of medical school and I dread it. I seriously fear it. You see, 3rd year is when you really begin the gritty part of medical school, when you begin your clinical years and spend your time at the hospital. I’m scared of having to see patients and being completely uninterested in them, having suicidal thoughts, or realizing medicine is not for me. It really scares me.

I don’t know what else to say. Maybe I’ll post something more coherent later.


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