Feeling a bit better since the previous post. M returned my call yesterday and I told her about feeling desperate two days ago and like a failure when it comes to deciding whether I want to do a leave of absence. She told me to not force myself to make a decision at that moment when I was high on emotions, and to wait until our appointment on Tuesday to discuss what I’m thinking in detail. So I listened to her and am basically letting the issue hibernate until Tuesday (though it’s still affecting me a lot).

I think what happened on Thursday was that since the moment I woke up I set myself up for disaster. The first thing I thought when I woke up that day was that I wanted to die. That’s not exactly the best way to begin a day. On top of that, going to my medical school has become a trigger. Then, as soon as I stepped outside the Dean of Student Affairs’ office, I saw an overachiever from my class waiting outside wearing her white coat. Once I got home I isolated, and not being able to talk to M or my sister MM made it worse. At night I tried having a conversation with my mom about what I was feeling but it left me feeling worse. Somehow, Murphy’s law became a reality, and everything that could go wrong did.

But, somehow, since yesterday afternoon I feel a bit better. I did errands with my dad yesterday and told him about what I was feeling. He told me I was anything but a failure, and that I was actually quite admirable for looking for help.

Then, late at night, I painted. The last time I painted something remotely decent was last year.

Today I went grocery shopping with my parents. Then I prepared lunch for the three of us. After that I baked an apple pie. It’s actually quite funny because I barely ever cook.

Anyways, the point I’m trying to make here is that I’ve been trying to distract myself as much as possible. And when I’m not trying to do it, my parents and siblings are doing everything possible so that I don’t end up in my room sleeping. But there’s a fine line between distractions and feeling overwhelmed…and I think I’m close to it. I just can’t seem to get the negative, self-deprecating thoughts out of my head. It’s a constant battle. And being so distracted makes me feel like I’m somehow not working on myself. Sounds ridiculous, I know.

Basically, the borderline in me can’t stand the uncertainty in not knowing what’s going to happen. It’s all or none with me. Either I want to have ALL the answers, or I don’t want to have ANY questions in the first place. But anything in between is gray, and gray is uncomfortable.

I’m smiling at myself as I write this because I was reminded of the first appointment I had with M after the hospitalization. I told her about how the psychiatrist at the hospital was wonderful and (almost) on a par with her, while I hated the psychologist. She smiled and said: “Black and white”. I couldn’t help laughing at myself.

Psychologist vs. psychiatrist. Distractions vs. thinking about my future. Black vs. white. Never gray.


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