Anxiety was through the roof this past week. So much that I was having suicidal thoughts.
However, things took a turn near the end of the week when I received a very positive evaluation from an attending and great feedback from my resident. My resident told me she had no negatives to say about me, only positives. She said I’m very inquisitive, and I have a lot of initiative, and that I truly care about my patients. I think she said one or two other things, but I don’t remember, I was too busy being in disbelief and feeling elated.
And then I kind of screwed up real bad. I had to interview a patient alongside another third year med student, something I truly hate. Having another med student there always makes me freak out and I get even more anxious because I can feel them being competitive. So, that resulted in me interviewing the patient and then completely forgetting to examine them. And that resulted in me completely screwing up when I went to write the patient note and showed it to my resident. After all that hard earned positive feedback she had to edit my note A LOT and add a bunch of things and was confused when she asked and I told her I forgot to examine the patient. MM told me that for sure she’ll remember the positives, and that humongous negative that happened will just be a small blip in my otherwise great track record. I hope she’s right, but I can’t help but freak out.
All because anxiety was through the roof. Ugh. I was and am still very angry.
You know what triggered me the other day? Men’s dress shoes.
I mean, seriously, what the fuck? I was looking at a male med student’s shoes and suddenly I felt the all too familiar nervous tick I get, some flashbacks, and a feeling of disgust that I know have everything to do with The Ex. There are some times when flashbacks are to be expected, like when I hear a particular song, when someone whispers in my ear, or when an attending briefly mentioned sexual abuse in a child abuse lecture. However, I hate it when I get triggered by the most mundane and unexpected things. It feels strange and annoying.
So, yeah…men’s dress shoes. Specifically, those that tend toward a more pointed toe area and make feet look disproportionately long. I just tried searching for some images so that you could have a mental picture of what type of shoes I mean, but I just got really triggered. Way to go, that was quite the stupid move! Now I’m thinking about his legs, a few particular flashbacks that have to do with that, as strange as that sounds….ugh, fuck.
I’m now going to be seeing G and R every two weeks, so it’ll be G one week and R the next. G suggested the change in routine because she thinks I’m getting too attached to her. Fuck fuck. And she also said I’m getting too attached to MM.
But unfortunately she’s right. I know I’m depending too much on them and getting too attached. And also, she said she wants to change the weekly routine to every two weeks because she has to start testing me to see if I can go longer without seeing her. In other words, to see if I’ve made progress. She said she has to push and pull me in such a way that she can evaluate whether I can tolerate longer periods without her.
This week she explained that rationale to me, and it all made sense. And she said she was surprised I was doing fine, because she was expecting me to arrive all worked up/messed up/pissed as hell to this past week’s appointment after a two week period without her. I told her I’ve gotten better with that (which is true….back when I was starting with M I cut after any canceled appointments).
I know it’s all for my own good, but holy fuck it feels like shit. My rational side says Yeah, she’s right, while my instinctive side says FUCK NOOOOO SHE’S ABANDONING AND REJECTING YOU!
I have a feeling it’s going to change next week. I kinda have a feeling I’m going to be an angry mess when I get to her office next week. Yeah….I can already feel it. Bummer.
I feel pretty fat lately. Can feel the eating disordered thoughts getting stronger as the days go by. But eating a bunch of raw cookie dough alone in my room to avoid the shame isn’t helping matters.