Another day. Another day, wasted away.
It took me about 1 hour to get out of bed. In addition to feeling emotionally overwhelmed, I didn’t sleep very well last night, so it was particularly difficult to muster up the courage to get up. I’m the type of girl (woman?) who likes to dress nicely and look good. But lately it’s been proving difficult to have any initiative to do that. I put on some “lazy clothes” and barely did my hair and makeup.
Today I had to go to a pediatrician’s office in a town about 1 hour from here and pretend like I was interested. Smiling like I meant it. If only they knew…
I wasn’t at all interested in the patients, was even crossing my fingers so the doctor wouldn’t leave me alone to take a history and physical. But she did, on two occasions, and they were both awkward and tedious.
Tomorrow I have to go to gastroenterology clinics. Smile like I mean it. Pretend I’m interested.
I spoke with my sister MM earlier today. Finally. It was difficult to tell her that I’m not in good shape, that M almost hospitalized me, and that I still have suicidal thoughts. I don’t want her to worry about me too much, but I guess it’s too late for that. I mean, I appreciate her being worried about me, I just don’t want her feeling guilty or powerless.
I’ve been thinking that M should have definitely hospitalized me. I shouldn’t have reassured her. But I’m so afraid of how getting hospitalized will affect my career. It would probably mean getting held back at least a semester, not graduating with my friends, and prolonging this med school hell. Also, the fact that I (apparently) want to be a psychiatrist does not help. I’ve already been way too exposed to the residents at my school’s psychiatry program by seeing M weekly. Wouldn’t want to know what they would make of me being hospitalized.
But, damn it, I wish I was brave enough to speak up. I wish I would’ve told M “Yes, admit me”. Now it’s too late, and I’m left to fend for myself until she gets back on April 8th or later.
I hate medical school. I hate medicine. I’m only marginally interested in psychiatry right now. I don’t know if that’s me speaking or depression speaking, so I’m keeping at it with the hope that when I’m mentally sound I’ll like it. I’ve been thinking of escape routes, alternate careers. But really, I’d have to start over right from the bottom. I feel trapped, but I feel like I’m too far in it to go back now.
I feel like any other medical student could have written that last paragraph. I don’t know how many times I’ve read those same sentences in forums and discussions.
Why does medicine make people miserable?