It starts Monday.
I can’t wait.
All I’m doing now is passing time.
La-di-da-di-da.
I just have no reason to feel depressed today.
I wish all days would be like this.
Category: school
I am half giddy and half terrified.
I am giddy because of certain circumstances.
I am terrified because school is about to start soon and I’m afraid that I’ll be pressed for time. Although, the upperclassmen say that there is so much time this year, we’ll actually get bored.
I hope that holds true.
I sincerely hope that works out okay.
I don’t want anybody nudged out of my life because of my schedule. No, I can’t have that. It MUST not happen.
I’m happy because I am learning more and more how to manage the hourly fluctuations in my mood. I just let it happen, then I let it pass.
There it goes.
My start-of-the-day post.
I’m broken. I’ve sunk into depression again. I’ve got no motivation, no drive and basically I just don’t think I can make it.
If not med school, then what?
I’ve centered my life on this so much so that I am left with no options if I don’t make it. It’s a blank slate for me. I’ve got nowhere to turn. I’ve got nowhere to go. What will I do then? Nothing. Die, probably.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
I.don’t.know.what.to.study.
There’s too much scattered material everywhere.
Is this medical school? Exam after exam, not knowing which books to pick up?
I can’t wait to get to the Musculoskeletal module. That’s when I’ll know that I’ll be living intimately with my Grant’s Atlas and Moore’s Anatomy 24/7.
On a side note, my Topamax was increased to 50mg as of last Tuesday to control my angry outbursts. I do get extremely angry at times, which I try my best to contain, but it gets in the way of my studying. I can’t concentrate so well with all those disastrous thoughts in my head. At times, I just want to ruin whatever I can get my hands on and the usual victim is my hair- which I pull and pull or I punch my thighs or really dig my nails into my face. I just.get.really.really.pissed.at.the.fuckin.world.
So far, my hands and feet are tingling. I don’t know yet if this is a side effect of it. I don’t feel particularly stupid-yet.
I’m waiting, waiting, waiting on my fate. There’s nothing more excruciating than your future hanging by a thread and you waiting for the ax to fall.
Will I stay a year? What happens then?
Will I go on to medical school? If so, where? Which one?
I’m haunted by these questions day in and day out and I can’t escape the waiting part. God, take it all away. Let it be over.
My MBTI profile has changed from being an ENTP (The Inventor) to an INTJ (The Scientist). I’m now an introvert. Hurrah!
—
I’m telling you I’m leaving, for good. I wonder how you’ll do, what you’ll say and how you’ll be from here on. Carry on. The most cruel words, perhaps, of the human tongue. Carry on. As if things were so damn easy as to continue walking the avenues of life. As if. As if the world will leave us alone when in fact, we’re trying to be engulfed in its splendor. But it will spit us out and leave us crying outside the door. Aaaargh! The world frustrates me with its laws and its enumerable checker-board illusions. I cannot make it through. I cannot do this anymore alone. I need help.Perhaps, for the first time in ages, I’m begging for help. I am on my knees. And I need you. I need you. It’s an emergency in slow motion. I need help. Help me. I’m frantic and I’m cold and I’m scared and I’m in a state of panic already.
Success.
