Morning rambles

Mornings have been tougher than usual. The first two weeks of December, I was up and out of bed by 7AM. Largely, that was due to emesis episodes, but I didn't lay back down and fall asleep. I also studied and didn't mind being at my apartment. Fast forward to the last two weeks of January, and I've been sleeping in to 9AM and barely can summon any will to get out from under the covers. It's also easily the saddest point in my day. I wake up. Remember what is reality and really miss everything. I replay lots of old memories, and then I want to cry.

I've been really good at being proactive for these past two months, but now, I think I'm just tired. I should be though. After Thursday's session, I dug deeper and uncomfortably into my psyche, rehashing old feelings about prestige, success, and self-sabotage. Seems like I've been operating on a shame cycle instead of finding that inner motivation, hence why I avoid studying some days. It trudged up a lot of questions, and soon I found myself having an existential crisis over the weekend, pondering like I did when I was 16, "What's the point in doing anything?"

It was scary. I was so consumed by my thoughts and so inside my head that there was a strong disconnect with the universe. I needed to find a way to anchor myself  to the world. So I caved, and I called S on the verge of tears, recapping the weekend and possibly escalating into a panic attack. I also had an hour before I had to attend clinic and see patients at my monthly preceptorship. I find myself in this position very often-- having to pull myself together at the last minute to go on about business. He was patient and helped. I can only be grateful, but I wish I didn't call since I'm left always wanting more.

To say the least, I'm emotionally exhausted. The clinic experience reminded my what I'm doing here despite hating my surroundings and not having a social life. There was one patient who I felt that I connected with really well. S/he was so upset about being ill and not knowing what was wrong for  half a year. Tears began to well in his/her eyes as she retold her medical history to the attending, but he seemed indifferent since s/he had not been compliant with appointments (however, she lived 3 hrs away). As the appointment ended, I lingered in the room to offer him/her tissues and listened to his/her concerns. I told him/her that it was hard, but s/he's doing the best s/he can right now. That's all anyone can do really- just put your best efforts forth.

And I have been doing that. It's just so hard sometimes to see that and not compare yourself to what should be happening. Yeah, I know I could have gotten into a better university than Baylor, but perhaps I wouldn't be in medical school if I went to Boston U. I might have ended up somewhere different. I might have been more miserable. I might have relied too heavily on alcohol. I might have hated myself. I just don't know, but I don't think I would be where I am right now. It's just hard to appreciate where I am now, because I'm unhappy. With Baylor, I wasn't really happy until after my 21st birthday where I realized how many friends I had made. By senior year, I didn't care that I was in Waco. I made the best of that situation.

Now, I'm moving to Amarillo after a few more months. Will spend another two years in a small city. Have to make new friends. I'm scared that this plan for residency to move to the big city will fail. Fail in the sense that I don't have the credentials to get myself there, and also that I won't find the sense of community that I'm looking for. None of my friends will be there, and I could be more than a thousand miles away from home base. If only I could goad someone in the next two years to be my roommate and move somewhere north, we could then start the operation of relocating old friends. It will be Project Texas Transplants.