So a little about my life at this moment. I sort of feel like bandit queen because I feel like I need to be rebellious to make a point.Like if I were all sane and reasoned everything out with patience and taking time, I think I would be wasting Time. I feel like right now, I am explaining every minute of my life to somebody else. Sort of justifying every action.I wonder why. Probably this is why. I go to a college where Taking a deep breah without permission might land you in serious trouble. I still live at home at the age of 21 with my parents so every minute not spend studying is sort of having to be justified. Why am I taking a break? Because I just walked in the sun from College. Well then you should have just stayed in the library till it was evening and then come home.
They are probably right . But I want my life to go my way. Why ?Cause it's my god-damn life!
So anyway the events of the last few weeks have left me un-nerved to say the least. I have sort of plummeted from being slightly having found some order in my life to finding nothing at all.I am questioning everything everyday. Why did I put up with shoddy friendships, shoddy professionalism , shoddy everything for the past so many years. Did I have a choice? I actually did and I didn't do anything about it.
Crap. I was sort of thinking of writing down a post rationally and calmly. Why am I so angry?
I am so angry at myself. SO angry .
Friday, October 24, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Reality Bites.But then , so do I.
So this is going to be a sort of self inspirational post. If it inspires anyone who reads this as well, then I probably do really need to look at an alternative career option of counselling.
I am almost done with college or so I would really love to believe. I started my UG sometime around October 2004 and quite frankly I have learnt a lot more about life than about medicine. It really is without meaning offence to any other profession , the most demanding profession there will ever be. For me I realized about one minute into it that this was not what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. But I wanted to see and experiment and hoped and prayed that I may fall in love with it . Although I have learnt to have an immense amount of respect and admiration for all those who practice medicine , I couldn't for the life of me understand how it was possible to become so detached to this constant suffering one sees every day.
So the first year passed, I crammed like hell the 17 days before my universities and passed. Not with flying colours , but I passed . Of course I was happy , I was ecstatic! Because for the amount of preparation I had put in , i didn't deserve to pass. Second year happened, That was when real life happened.
But somehow , I did much better . So I started thinking , maybe this would work out for me you know, because I was able to perform well without breaking my head over it.
So second year went by.
Third year happened. The beginning of third year I hated and hated. There was nothing much to do and I wasted time. Because I felt like I was in a rut . i think somebody did label the third year of medicine with a syndrome called the third year syndrome. LOL. Because the first and second years are years full of studying, cramming , caffeine binges. Third year is pretty much empty. You just need to study two weeks before the exams.
But anyway I still managed to make the cut.
Fourth and my final year happened.
I really couldn't believe I had actually lived through these years.I thought well, just work really hard and get it over with and then I can do whatever.
The only problem is I have two months left for my exams and the 'working hard' part still hasn't kicked in.
Lol.So then, one day I resigned myself to maybe skipping a paper for the unis.
Until today.
I realized.I owe it to myself. I owe it to the person who tried for four years. I owe it to the person who could be herself again if she finished this. I don't want to ever to tell myself that I didn't try.
I am almost done with college or so I would really love to believe. I started my UG sometime around October 2004 and quite frankly I have learnt a lot more about life than about medicine. It really is without meaning offence to any other profession , the most demanding profession there will ever be. For me I realized about one minute into it that this was not what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. But I wanted to see and experiment and hoped and prayed that I may fall in love with it . Although I have learnt to have an immense amount of respect and admiration for all those who practice medicine , I couldn't for the life of me understand how it was possible to become so detached to this constant suffering one sees every day.
So the first year passed, I crammed like hell the 17 days before my universities and passed. Not with flying colours , but I passed . Of course I was happy , I was ecstatic! Because for the amount of preparation I had put in , i didn't deserve to pass. Second year happened, That was when real life happened.
But somehow , I did much better . So I started thinking , maybe this would work out for me you know, because I was able to perform well without breaking my head over it.
So second year went by.
Third year happened. The beginning of third year I hated and hated. There was nothing much to do and I wasted time. Because I felt like I was in a rut . i think somebody did label the third year of medicine with a syndrome called the third year syndrome. LOL. Because the first and second years are years full of studying, cramming , caffeine binges. Third year is pretty much empty. You just need to study two weeks before the exams.
But anyway I still managed to make the cut.
Fourth and my final year happened.
I really couldn't believe I had actually lived through these years.I thought well, just work really hard and get it over with and then I can do whatever.
The only problem is I have two months left for my exams and the 'working hard' part still hasn't kicked in.
Lol.So then, one day I resigned myself to maybe skipping a paper for the unis.
Until today.
I realized.I owe it to myself. I owe it to the person who tried for four years. I owe it to the person who could be herself again if she finished this. I don't want to ever to tell myself that I didn't try.
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