Aceptance, damn it!

Taking a break from studying. I really hope I pass tomorrow’s test, though I’ve been slacking a lot.

Had the first of the three Psychiatry rotation tests yesterday. It went good. It was a practical test consisting of two parts, where the first part consisted of giving bad news to a fake patient (cancer), and the second part consisted of diagnosing a fake patient with a psychiatric illness (panic disorder in that case). The bad news part didn’t go very well, I just hope I pass, but the second part went well. The reason I’m explaining all of this in so much detail is because after the second part of the test I felt empowered. I kept thinking: “I can do this, I can be a doctor, I can be a psychiatrist.” It made me feel proud, it made me feel good, and relieved.

After that I had an appointment with M. We talked about the test, and she led me to admit that the second part of the test made me feel happy. She made me realize how difficult it is for me to admit to moments when I feel happy, how hard it is to accept them and just live through the positive emotions. She’s right (as usual!). It’s yet another thing I have to work on. I mean, honestly, what’s so difficult about saying I’m happy? Maybe it’s the fear of losing the happy moment.

Along that same line, we also talked about how I have to learn to accept when I like something or when I dislike something. For example, right now, I’m in love with Psychiatry but not with medicine (if that makes any sense?). But I’m afraid of saying, to myself, “Hey, I don’t like medicine!” For some reason, I’m trying to please something or someone by saying I like it, when I should just listen to myself and no one else. Another example is art. I have to accept that I have artistic tendencies and that I like art, maybe even more than medical school.

But for some reason I’m afraid of the consequences of saying that I don’t like medicine. I’m sure a lot of medical students go through this and that this is completely unrelated to my having BPD. It’s difficult to say “I don’t like it” when so many people are proud of you for choosing medicine. It’s a fear of not being able to please others, I think.

So, M put me up for the following assignment: I have to think about how I would feel if I would have chosen a career in art. She says I have to explore these feelings, and accept them as they are, because it’s part of discovering who I am.

I keep asking, time and time again: who am I?

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