I Failed

The test was awful. I got maybe four hours of sleep each of the nights preceding the exam, and was studying for many of the hours between. I was in a fatigued, anxious daze. I studied from 2 AM to a couple hours before the exam at 9 AM, and the exam was so taxing, and I so hopeless, that I spent much of the last portion focusing on just staying awake enough to read the question and pick some answer that somehow reverberated with it in my mind. I debated walking out, considering what a waste it felt like.

The next day, all of the friends I waited with at the airport got an email telling them that they had failed. I received no email. Delayed flight meant a free night at the airport for a few hours, then an early flight the next day. 

Tired, hungry, suddenly bereft of the studying that had constantly occupied my mind for the past few months, I did not know what to do with myself. So I drank and watched the first Lord of the Rings movie. Hungover, I had lunch with family the next day. They had me talk through the hypothetical situation of having actually passed this exam. This, by the way, is the worst thing to do if you do not yet know.

Despite my reservations, hope surged in me a little, even as reasoning tried to squash it. This resulted in troubled, anxious sleep and fitful dreams. I awoke to a memory of checking my email and finding a passing grade. Wondering if this was dream or reality, I checked my email to find my confidence quickly smothered and brushed aside. The email displays quite clearly the word "FAILED" in all caps, so there's no moment of uncertainty.

I sleep till the afternoon and then force myself to go get food, because my intake is down to one meal per day. After hitting up some Pokemon gyms and catching/hatching some new ones (holiday Pikachu), I end up back at home for awhile. And my mom asks how I'm doing, and I reply "eh". Then she says, without any thought as to how cruel such a statement would be, "You should speak more positively, like Trump. Look where it got him." And the empty vacuum of space that anxiety was beginning to vacate suddenly filled up with our good friend anxiety. Not only that, but I had to justify to my mom how I can speak realistically (quite negatively) and still find success. She countered by telling me that she had Bible verses to justify her argument. I quoted from Genesis on the story of Abraham's belief in hope that goes against reason, despite how negatively he and his wife sometimes spoke of the realistic possibilities. She strongly disagreed with me and all I could tell her was that I failed miserably every time I tried speaking positively about practical things when I didn't have real proof. False hope is something I very much despise.

So it's been a rough week. Well, a rough semester. My mom consistently ignores it when I tell her what the actual issue is, and she points out something far more minute as being the underlying problem. Only a few more weeks of dealing with her though. Then I move.

However, my time on the island had its pleasant moments. I got to be around like-minded people again. All scientists, all very intelligent, and, to my knowledge, nearly all of them are first-generation immigrants. A friend of mine from Pakistan (who is not Muslim, by the way) is worried about his visa status in the future. Because, of course, our demagogue president-elect has had only one consistent promise in his campaign, and that is to get rid of these immigrants from Middle Eastern countries.

The Time Has Come

I leave for the airport in an hour. Since I never trust anything, I'll likely arrive about an hour and a half early with TSA precheck and only carry-on luggage. Then, after some Pokemon Go, I'll fly to Miami, and then to St Kitts. The next day, I'll take a ferry to Nevis. The following day, I'll take a test that I am not confident about which will decide whether I remain in purgatory or move on to the next of a great many steps toward becoming a doctor.

And after that test, freedom. Straight to the ferry and to the beach on St Kitts. Maybe get a $50 beach massage. Because for several days, I won't know whether I passed. That means no obligation to study, no guilt for any of that. And no Trump supporters either. Then on Friday, I'll leisurely fly back to the States, drinking merrily along the way.

I've felt so anxious this semester. First there was construction in the house so I couldn't even access my room, then my mom's divorce became slightly more complicated, which made her much more flustered, then my dad planning his remarriage, then my sister's (who has very real undiagnosed psychiatric issues) boyfriend took his own life with her in the apartment, and throughout all of it, a pro-Trump family and church as I sit here trying to focus. I was driven to drink again in order to relieve anxiety, which clung like the depression did back when I withdrew from a class. These distractions felt constant and pressing, like trying to walk through a thick array of spreading branches. I'm not great at this as it is, so it has seemed daunting.

But I finally let myself think about the test itself the other day. I remembered how the last time I took the comp, I mistook the time remaining for one section of the test as being the time remaining for the entire test (the number of questions for the total exam was placed next to the timer, which still seems stupid). So I sped through the first section without going back to review answers. Since I now understand that mistake, it feels like a leg up, even if the reality is that I only have even footing.

I will likely fail this test and have to retake it again in April. But I've got a study program lined up after the new year, during which time I get to live in my own apartment for two months. And before that, I plan to have fun with good people who, like me, are struggling in this world. I hope the next season is more kind.

A Mockery

Confidence is going back and forth. Mostly back. But I think I do better on practice tests when I'm not already convinced that I've failed it. This phenomenon has always affected others, but never me. This is disconcerting. I had a dream the other night in which I took this exam, but the test was just made up of tweets, with each answer choice being another stupid tweet. The whole thing was a joke, a mockery, and the proctors knew it, though we still had to go through with it.

And though I've always felt like my life was a joke, the effect of this election on my family and church and core values seems to make the joke a bit more cruel rather than playful. And when you add in the hopelessness with which I study... Well, it's not easy to keep this chin up.

I never thought I would feel worse than I did on the island, but living at home during the election was at least a close second. Complete dismissal of facts as hopes are placed in a walking definition of a demagogue...

Burned Out As I Begin

The struggle to be able to study has weighed on me all this semester. Now that I finally have time alone at the lakehouse, I just feel burned out. I'm still getting more done than I did at home, but nowhere near what I want to be doing. I keep thinking that I'm definitely going to fail (a usual feeling), but unlike in times past, I'm taking practice tests to help me study. Unfortunately, that "I'm gonna fail" attitude seeps in throughout the test. I get obvious questions wrong. A lot.

Obviously, I need to submit all of this to God better. But my mind has just felt so crowded until I could get away that I could not process thoughts, prayers, or much else. I hope that I get a grip on studying a little better. Or that, you know, the test is really easy. Either or, or both. Please...

Oh The Days

I fly out to take my exam a week from this Tuesday. I'm not likely to pass, but I'm heading to our family's lakehouse tomorrow to study in isolation until my flight. I will be moving to Addison to do a study program for two months after New Years.

I've hated living at home. Not just because it's so very pro-Trump here, but also because when one parent is getting divorced and the other is remarrying and your sister's boyfriend takes his own life, concentration becomes difficult. And I'm not great at staying focused as it is.

So I'm looking forward to December. After I take my exam, I get to sit on the beach briefly, then fly back to the States. Then I will have the freedom to go for guiltless long drives to visit friends in other states.

Also, getting up in the morning is still difficult. I still don't recognize the church as it is (so I don't capitalize). It seems like the clear wrong that I have learned all my life is more of a gray, or even white, area for many others. A good friend of mine told me that he doesn't tell people that he's Christian until they have gotten to know him well. We aren't ashamed of the gospel; the gospel saved us. We are just ashamed of being associated with a racist, sexist, bigoted, intolerant group.

An Open Letter

Jon Stewart recently made the good point that we can't judge every republican based on Trump's worst characteristics. It is true that calling every Trump supporter a racist bigot is going too far. That being said, voting demographics show that white less educated America was willing to overlook a lot of faults that no other demographic was. This is likely because white people were the only ones not targeted by Trump. To many of us, that level of callousness is tough to see as anything but (at best) a willingness to tolerate racism (and all the other -isms that Trumpism has acquired).

When it comes to the nation as a whole, it seems unfair to cast blame or judgment for this. After all, our nation is diverse in beliefs and values, which is something to be appreciated. However, since data indicates that the white evangelical church likely managed to turn the vote in Trump's favor, an issue begins to arise. Unlike our incredibly diverse nation, the Church is meant to be ruled by sets of values and teachings laid out by Jesus. So when one candidate embraces ideals and rhetoric that are antagonistic toward the ideals and rhetoric of the God we as Christians worship, a problem arises. (If anyone is in disbelief regarding the contrarian nature of the Bible with Trump's rhetoric, I would be happy to supply verses in this regard. It is not difficult.)

If the Church is willing to openly endorse such a man as Trump, along with all that comes with him, then this church is something that I cannot affiliate with as a Christian. There can be forgiveness, but trust has largely (and justifiably) been lost. If ever there was a question as to why or whether a younger generation in the Church was being lost, an answer is present herein.

I fear that much of the Church's witness was traded away this election.

And for anyone to use their political party as an excuse, that comes too close to idolatry in my mind. I changed parties when one strongly went against the teachings of Jesus (and my beliefs as a scientist and American).

To clarify, it is not because Trump votes were votes against my choice of candidate. It is specifically because they voted for Trump. I see no fault in third party voters.

To add a subjective view, which is shared by most that I've talked to about it, I have felt uncomfortable at church this election season. Given my understanding of who my church's congregation likely voted for, there are inherent implications. I would feel more comfortable visiting a mosque with a Muslim friend than bringing a Muslim friend to my own church. For this and related reasons, I have found myself unable to attend church for the past couple months.

I don't WANT to blame the Church. I love the Church. But because of my fellow evangelicals, I don't recognize the Church. And I don't relish trying to defend my Church's actions next time I try to share my faith with my Muslim friends. Or Mexican friends. Or female friends. Or any minority.

However, the purpose in this is not to condemn. That too would be contrary to the purposes that Jesus has for us. Rather, I share this in order to point out the issue. Pastors and leaders would be wise to evaluate the damage of their (and all of our) witness due to the choice of the white evangelical church in this election, and then reform as needed. It is difficult to see racism and mysogyny when you are a white male, but it is very present and, like most evils hidden in darkness, it must be called out in order to prevent the further spread of infection. In all of this, we may be thankful that Jesus remains constant throughout.

Sputtering of Apathy & Ambition

I'm a little over two weeks away from my flight back to the island to retake the comp exam. And no, I am not ready. Dad is getting remarried. Mom is getting divorced. Sister's boyfriend took his own life. And home was distracting enough before those things happened.

I'm studying today at our family's lakehouse. I hadn't remembered its existence, nor how usefully empty it was right now, until my brother reminded me between my laments about studying. But it is too little too late, in my mind. After all, two weeks isn't that much time. And within those two weeks, there is also Thanksgiving, which involves the occupation of this lakehouse. My mom suggested that maybe God intended for me to wait until now to remember it. And I can't help but wonder why.

I know that my ability to reason and explain has been appreciated at home. But the stress of the election (both what preceded it and the results) have weighed upon me. Even now, I wake up to the realization of different aspects of the gravity of such a poor decision by the American people (though primarily by the less educated white evangelicals).

Waking up with those thoughts, and the idea in my mind that my current studying efforts are in vain, really throws me off. Ambition drains from me even as I decline invitations to meet up with friends. I stop believing in a chance for romance, of becoming a doctor, in most things. Apathy sputters about as I try to rev myself up and into a state of hard work and discipline.

What can you do?

The Youth Dissuaded

I went to a wedding last night and reconnected with some old friends. It has helped to talk this stuff out with a friend who feels as I do about the election, specifically with regard to Christianity. The white evangelical church apparently voted with significant enough numbers that they decided this election. My friend and I both struggle with the fact that the Church seems to specifically push forward agendas that are contrary to the teachings of the Jesus. We both lament that the issue of abortion seems used as a device to cheaply win over a large portion of voters who would not otherwise support a given candidate. (As one who was staunchly pro-life before taking medical psychology and ethics classes, I can assure you that both sides have very valid points. But when I took my own personal reflexive opinions out of the picture, I found that such a difficult ethical issue should not reach a verdict until the doctor and patient discuss it. However, this does remain a heavily nuanced topic, so I will not begin to presume that my reasoning skills surpass that of others. I would simply request that those of opposing views display the same courtesy in return.)

And we both feel uncomfortable with the Church as a whole, along with our local churches right now. He said that he had noticed it around six months ago. I have felt it since my return to the States as I tried to reconnect with the Christian community after two years away from any real ministry involvement.

Since a social media post would invite ridicule or would seem a cry for help, I instead must speak to my local pastors at some point. This is for the purpose of warning them. If I, an educated upper middle class white man, feel uncomfortable with the church's support of such a symbol of racism (and a long list of other issues), it seems unlikely that this or the next generation of young people would think the church a welcoming, judgment-free place. If I were on the fence regarding Christianity, this election would almost certainly have pushed me away from Christ. And I certainly would not wish to visit a church if my skin were not white. And if I were a Muslim curious about the Christian faith, I would anticipate being treated like a criminal. I cannot imagine how embarrassingly hard I would have to try to make one of my Muslim friends feel comfortable in a church setting, especially the friends who wears a hijab.

My position must be careful though. It cannot be one of blaming people. There are those on social media who are claiming that Trump supporters are outright racists, or unsaved. I, however, believe that Jesus died for the sins of all, and can also see the perspective of being all in for even a chance at a pro-life vote despite everything that comes with it. And I can understand the distrust for the opposition as well.

Rather, my position is one of victimization and lamentation. I have staked much of my life, my story, and my passions in the Church and the hope that it brings. And I believe that this hope belongs to all people, that all people have a right to the opportunity of receiving it. But I see a Church that will deny social and civil issues (and, in doing so, support the continuation of those problems).

The Church that I love is one that I cannot bear to look at.

Distrust For The Church

Okay, I need to express this somehow. I haven't been honest, and for professional reasons, I can't be transparent on Facebook. But fortunately, no one reads this.

I no longer trust the church. It is a difficult thing to think, much less write. I've never cried over anything spiritual that I can recall. Nothing. Not in the most heart-wrenching worship service. Not when I saw miracles happen. Not ever. But there are tears in my eyes as I write this.

White America has won. The voting demographic clearly shows it. If you were white, you voted Trump. If you were any other color of skin or were educated, the majority voted against him.

In the name of keeping the Supreme Court conservative (the only defense in favor of Trump that could potentially hold water), the white evangelical church has chosen a wealthy demagogue (a political leader who seeks support by appealing to popular desires and prejudices rather than by using rational argument) whose path to election was based on racism, sexism, bigotry, xenophobia, and blatant disregard for facts that opposed his opinions. Where is the Church that would choose a step toward equality? Where is the Church that would stand up for the less fortunate? The Church that would offer shelter to strangers in a foreign land, because we too were once aliens as well? What happens when a white Christian wants to share the gospel with a Muslim person, or a Mexican, or any illegal immigrant?

I do not recognize this church. I haven't felt comfortable attending my local church (primarily white congregation) these past months. Believe me, I made myself go. And though I genuinely tried, I felt worse. Even as I search for the proper terminology, the word that comes to mind is conviction. My convictions make me uncomfortable with attending church, such as it is.

I will continue to read my Bible, talk to God, and watch sermons on Sunday. But they will be streamed online from a pastor I trust (Judah Smith).

I struggle with what to do with these feelings that go against how I was raised, yet seem more in line with the Bible that I trust. I want to warn pastors and leaders, but I also do not wish to publicly do things on social media, because once again, I have a professionalism to uphold. And, if I'm being honest, I don't want to admit that I don't feel comfortable with the Church. I mean, what Christian says that? A well-educated one, it turns out.

The Creature Has Won

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Trump winning this election is that such a large and outspoken portion of the church endorsed him. In the midst of hate and injustice, the church is where I would think to seek refuge. But no, I don't see the logic in trusting the church at a time such as this. For embracing the church seems like it would be a rejection of the very teachings upon which it was established and inspired.

Make no mistake, the racism, bigotry, misogyny, and xenophobia are very real and bound to grow as a result of their leader coming into a place of power. Just last month, three Trump supporters were arrested for allegedly planning to bomb a mosque and an apartment complex where Somali refugees resided in Kansas. That's right, Trump supporters, whose big message is a fear of refugees because of their potential to be secret terrorists, actually planned to commit a terrorist act themselves.

I am trying to turn to Jesus in this, as I should be doing in all things. But I must say, Christians seem to be a strong deterrent to Christ these days.

Attempts To Study

I saw some of my favorites in concert this last week. King Charles was an opener, but unfortunately was not accompanied by a full band. Still good, but not nearly on the level of what I listen to every time I go jogging. I saw The Head and the Heart last night though, and that was a wonder. Their recorded albums are so good that it was shocking how great they were live (and their coordination with the lighting as well).

It's Halloween. A little over a month before I take my big exam. This means that rather than studying for 6-10 hours per day, I need to start studying for 12+ hours every day. Such an idea is immediately hampered, however. Even as I type, the UWorld questions I use to study with won't even load. The application won't launch. This is because of the internet at our house, which is a tethered phone shared by all. And this is just the technical issue. Every day my mom unnecessarily loudly asks casual questions to anyone or everyone in the house, somehow still not realizing that I am trying to simulate testing conditions.

I realize that it is unfair to ask her to change her habits for me just because I'm studying. But she was very insistent that my desire to rent an apartment elsewhere would be a stupid waste of money when our house was available for studying. Since she is currently funding my studies, I had to give in. Dogs bark. Election talk happens (and with me being the only libtard in the house, I become anxious over this). Life on the island was an awful, awful place that I never want to relive, but it was bereft of such distractions (except for power outages and internet going out and very real depression).

So when my sister's boyfriend hanged himself the other day and she said she never wanted to see their apartment again, and I discovered that their lease wouldn't be up for two more months, I was emphatic in my desire to study there. On the other side of Dallas, away from family.

When Pretty Girls Flirt

I went to a missionary dinner thing on Tuesday. I remembered that those guys get words of knowledge all the time, able to see what's spiritually going on with someone, so I began the process of weeding out my garbage brain. I also finally joined a local gym that day, so I got my first good workout in months, and was still sore today (when I returned).

Yesterday, I visited the neurologist I used to work for. They have tablets for patients now, so they enter basic information there rather than using paper. They had claimed to be paperless before, but it seems like they're really starting to do it now. That night, I went with friends Tara and Cameron to watch the last presidential debate at a bar in Dallas. Those debates are way easier to endure when everyone else is also hating Trump (and also when they give free shots to those watching the debate).

Today, I met up with a girl I had vaguely known through homeschool stuff in high school. We both went to homeschool prom back then, and have a few mutual friends. I had seen her once more when she worked at a coffee shop in town and was surprised at how pretty and skinny she was (two ingredients to catch the attention of this tall skinny human). I followed her on instagram and such and found that she was doing a lot of modeling. Anyway, she had posted something about her microbiology notes on an instagram story thing, and I offered to let her use my favorite study resource, sketchy micro.

So we were to meet at Starbucks. I arrived early, as I usually do if it's not morning, and the barista was a pretty and skinny blonde girl. This, of course, did not do much to ruffle my calm demeanor. After all, many baristas are attractive and so are many customers. But then she flirted with me as she helped me to select a beer (which, by the way, is a thing at Starbucks now) and then talked flirty for a moment as she delivered my drink to my table outside, and then (and this convinced me that it was real flirting) she gave a smiling thorough look back at me as she opened the door to go back inside. So for the first time perhaps ever, I had a pretty girl stranger flirting with me (that part might have happened once or twice before) while I awaited the pretty girl I was to give science stuff to.

So other pretty girl arrived and I gave her the stuff, and we talked for an hour or two. She told me that her only memory of me was when we danced at prom and I had apparently not looked at her the whole time (she then imitated my dancing pose, which I must admit appeared to be too strict a head position to allow for eye contact). We talked of life since then, of travels and jobs and school. She likes camping, which doesn't help her in my book. But perhaps my upbringing made me biased against that in the same way that I dislike the idea of road trips. Gotta keep an open mind. Anyway, we made vague plans to go to karaoke or dancing sometime, though I told her that I'd probably mostly be studying until December.

Anyway, I need a weekend of nonstop studying so that I don't have to think about social encounters anymore. I'm not used to people.

Our Witness

This election is awful. I've decided, for the moment at least, to avoid church until the election is over. Last week, I found myself judging people based on the amens I heard. Their political affiliations became obvious.

And it's tough to be forgiving of the Christian community when they choose a candidate who stands for so much that the Bible stands against. My convictions force me to be at odds with the evangelical church. And why? Because when I share my faith with a Muslim, illegal immigrant, African American, or, let's face it, a woman, I spend my time clarifying that Jesus was actually in favor of minorities, not against them. I am convinced that as a follower of Jesus, I could not support such a candidate, because it ruins my witness. As it is, the evangelicals voting for Trump sort of make me feel like I'm eating my words. So rather than share my faith, I end up taking the side of other religions, because at least they have the decency of mutual respect regardless of religion, skin color, etc.

I also have friends with PTSD from past sexual assault. They can't watch the debates. It triggers them. And it certainly drives me to drink too much, even as I'm trying to cut back.

So I look forward to November 9. So this can finally be over.

The Shaking Of Community

It's a rainy Sunday. I skipped church 'cause I stayed up late watching a new show (and because my feelings about the church in general have become very mixed with this election). The girl I kinda distance crush on was there, but I only know through pics posted on social media.

I'm feeling more and more at odds with the world immediately around me. I wish that I agreed more with people here in Texas. And I wish that my convictions weren't so closely tied to my opinions. Or that everyone else would have a faith that wasn't so closely tied to their choices; it makes me feel like my faith and my convictions from my faith are in opposition to one another.

The thing I miss most, ministry, is something that I'm also afraid of becoming involved in again. This is due to a number of reasons, some practical, but a big one is this distrust that has arisen in me.

I don't know what I am anymore. If it wasn't for the community here, I feel that my faith might have a chance to be stronger. But the community that is meant to strengthen my faith actually shakes it. My world was once simpler. I was once simpler. But the temptation to throw babies and bathwater out together has only increased in the last few years, and it just seems trying when I attempt to separate them out.

On The Flight Last Night...

Going to Ireland and Scotland again... This is where so many journeys started. Ireland is where the world shattered in some ways, when I found out about my parents' upcoming divorce six years and some months past from today. After all, when you are taught that something is wrong, and then those that taught you participate in the thoroughly engaging legal process involved in committing such an act, your perspective is forced to change somewhat. I still hate divorce, hate the sin that causes it and that it causes, but it is quite present. All around me. Friends are divorced and friends are marrying divorced people. And here I am, wondering which beliefs to hold onto in the midst of all of it.

Scotland in particular has reminded me of what makes me want to date someone. All of those places in Europe where you are something beautiful and you just wish that there was someone there with you that you're connected with in such a way as to have a moment captured in both of your minds and hearts simultaneously.

But at best, I've had strangers who manage to be at the same place with me, and the moment is captured in a flicker before the wisp flutters into nothing. Then you wish them a good evening, maybe add them on Facebook, and content yourself with a snapshot in time lacking in the depth that something inside yearns for.

I'm no longer quite so convinced that there is someone out there for me, romantically speaking. Of course, the danger in this thought process is the idea that I no longer need to "save myself" for someone. But on the other hand, I have saved myself not for any future person, but rather for God. 

The relief I can hold onto in any of this is studying medicine. At least there, the rules are relatively clear in terms of rules and ethics. The struggle with faith and social issues and life can fade away somewhat in the face of science. It is probably not the best coping mechanism, but it is what I have.

New Beliefs & Their Frustrations

Jet lag has been a doozy on this trip to Ireland. Granted, I only worked in naptime for the first time yesterday. I slept all afternoon and evening, then went to sleep again after going out for a couple hours. Despite all of it, I'm still waking up at 7 AM, which is highly unusual for me. However, if I could get my body to do this while studying in the States, it would make things much easier. Unfortunately, I am forced to work with my beautifully lazy body.

Now I sit in a lovely tea room loft a stone's throw from Christchurch in Dublin, Ireland (well, within eyesight; my arm is not very adept at stone throwing). I've neglected journaling. As with most trips, it was easy to get caught up in tourism, seeing, and walking. And unlike most of my memories of Ireland, it has been sunny or cloudy, but hardly raining.

I didn't think that this would happen, but I really do feel an aversion to the church based on this election. Though I know it shouldn't, it makes me wary of foundational teachings I grew up with. This stems from the issue of many passages of scripture already having a selected interpretation, when in fact, the reality is that there are many possible interpretations of a given account, and the traditional view could very well be associated with a specific cultural norm that is no longer relevant. All the while, I see others of my age group being similarly turned off from Christianity for the same reasons that I am, but unlike me, they lack the years of relationship with Christ that tends to lend support in such a time of uncertainty.

While all of this confusion within the faith is transpiring, I find myself working harder to dispel misconceptions about the teachings of Christ than with actually sharing the gospel of His saving grace. Instead of saying that Jesus loved all, even (and especially) those against whom most had strong prejudice, I spend time telling people that the racism and bigotry in the Church wasn't at all the message of Jesus. Instead of teaching a positive, I'm denying a negative. And through the overcorrection that often becomes inherently involved, I side with religions and beliefs that aren't my own and speak out against that to which I belong. And somehow, this is what most strongly matches with my convictions.

This has a poor effect upon my thought life. And other parts of life as well, I suppose. I overcorrect in other areas and neglect the good habits that my mind associates with the Church, such as going to church.

The refugee situation is a particularly important demonstration of just how far off the Church seems to me. Twenty million refugees, and ten million of those are children. What is the response of the Church? Bomb their country and make it even more difficult for them to get into ours. The fear of terrorism somehow manages to overshadow some of the clearest teachings of scripture, and not just the scriptures of Christianity either. Helping widows and orphans, helping strangers and foreigners in their time of need, because we too were once strangers in a foreign land.

I don't like that this is where things are, and I don't like the way I react to it either. I don't like that my current, much more informed beliefs often seem at odds with what I once believed, with those of the conservative world.

Yet here we are.

Believe bad or good what?

Living situation in Dallas, which seemed like a somewhat sure thing, is a somewhat unsure thing. Family talked about Trump so I left the lakehouse early, because I am strongly against much of what he stands for. Family is messed up. I'm messed up. And I sit wondering if the luxuries of America really are better than the dull alcoholic life I lived on the island. At least there, my mind was consumed with lesser things like a social life I didn't have and an oppressive sadness. Instead, I just feel like I believe in a God whose people generally believe against what I think is most important. Maybe I'm being stupid. Or judgmental. Stupid brain.

Texas Is Crazy (In A Bad Way)

Adjusting back to American life has been wondrous and sad all at once. I love the convenience. When I want wine and popcorn for a movie, I can go out and buy it in the space of mere minutes. Rooms are air conditioned and mattresses are padded. My broken iPhone was fixed while I filled out the form for it to be fixed. It's crazy.

But at the same time, politics create a deep divide. My beliefs, which have been shaped by years of travel and education, contrast sharply with the beliefs of those around me. Things that were common sense in my mind and in that of my medical school peers are seen as naive, and my criticisms of Republican paranoia are dismissed with this in mind. Sense is forced into bafflement by a barrage of half-formed ideas and strong emotions. In the midst of this, I have no choice but to stop speaking. Because it is like arguing with a Facebook post.

It is most easily recognizable when my mom recounts something she read on Facebook about what democrats say. I respond by telling her that I've researched this claim, and it is baseless. The democratic candidates never said it. But she does not relent in her assumption, and I am forced to resign to silence again.

It is strange to choose a political party based on which one promotes the use of facts. I would much rather that the arguments be over policy.

My mom explained to me tonight how we had no need for Obamacare. The Parkland Hospital in Dallas apparently used to allow anyone to write a billing address, and the Mexicans or black people would simply put down a false address. In her opinion, this solved this issue of healthcare. Of course, these argument seemed ridiculous to me, since we obviously shouldn't be reliant on a system in which people must lie in order to receive healthcare. Yet she remained convinced.

Talks with my dad haven't been much better, as he is convinced that the government is the problem with the world as it stands.

I just hope that I can meet new people and make friends (and maybe, perhaps possibly whatever..., a girlfriend #whaaaahhhhh????)

Happy vs Better

Tonight, I went hunting for Pokemon alone on campus. After I had made my circuit around campus wifi, I took a detour to the small cliff overlooking the ocean behind the school. I stared up at the stars, which are always plentiful here, and saw shooting stars, which are also plentiful. But as I wished to God and the stars, I found myself stuttering, because while I was wishing for things like "to be happy" and for passing the STEP 1, I was afraid of false hope in any of those scenarios.

I read a lot of posts on social media saying that all you need to do in life is find what makes you happy. Find happiness. Get the happy. I've never been after that. Short term, sure, kinda, but really, my goal hasn't included happiness. If I wanted that, my goal would be serotonin. Pop an antidepressant. No, my goals have always been to better myself as a person.

But should the goal of bettering myself make me be afraid of desiring happiness for myself? I've resigned myself to the idea that I'm probably not going to find someone that I connect enough with to marry. Sure, I'm always looking, but I'm not throwing heaps of hopes on that. I don't like false hope.

So my point here isn't so much that the pursuit of bettering oneself is preferable to the pursuit of happiness. I've just always been after the former rather than the latter (and often at the expense of the latter). I guess I'm just wondering if the balance should ever tip the other way, to the point that I can comfortably wish for happy. Curious as to whether this should be a possibility.

Passed The Basic Sciences

I passed my classes. I get to go back to America. My nerves were all in a jumble until I found out, and when I did, I couldn't process it. I get to go back to a wondrous (though greatly flawed) country. No more anxiety over whether I get to make it back. No more second-guessing every performance here.

Unfortunately, one of my good friends here failed a class, and it is being decided whether he will get to retake the class or be expelled from medical school, since he has failed a class before.

Pokemon Go came out, and I've been playing that. But of course, the island gives us no pokestops nearby where we have wifi. So we are going into town on Friday to see if we can find wifi near a pokestop.

I became CPR certified yesterday. Not too difficult.

I have an interview on Saturday to discuss where I'm doing my clinical rotations. We're supposed to come up with an elevator pitch.

I'm going scuba diving for the first time on Sunday.

And, of course, I'm studying for the COMP, the leave-the-island-forever exam. I'm pretty sure that I'll fail, but I'm obviously trying to avoid that.

I'm also, umm, actually seeing dating as a real possibility for the first time in my life. I mean, not that real, but more real than it's ever been before. But meow I've become this person that I think is the one I've been trying to be. I didn't want to date until the worst of school and my own issues were dealt with, but meow I think I may be closer to that point. It is strange.

Just A Wee Lil' Itsy Bitsy Bit Of An Update

Ah, a month since my previous post. Such is the way of the blog.

Yesterday was Independence Day. Unfortunately, I had poor internet, so I was unable to watch a patriotic movie. Shockingly (at least to me), patriotic movies can make me get misty-eyed. Like, I love God more, but I've never had to hold back tears when interacting with Him. Something about America...

The grade for the exam I was most worried about has been posted, and it is lovely. I've got a low B in the class I was more worried about, Pathology II, which means that I only have to make a 30 on the finals to pass. That's good because the final includes content from Pathology I, and I barely passed that class (Pharmacology took up the bulk of the time there). The grades for the other class, ICM (Introduction to Clinical Medicine I think), will hopefully be posted soon.

Lectures finished last week. We are left with required attendance in class from 8 AM to 4:40 PM (with an hour off for lunch) during which we quietly study by ourselves. Of course, my studying is done in a hammock in class, so sleep is also an important part of this time.

All that to say that I'm just about (not quite but mostly nearly) in the clear. I will soon need to think about life in America again. And honestly, having lived away for this long, I'm not looking forward to all of it. Racism, sexism, and xenophobia are still real in America, especially in the South; I would know.

Oh, I also participated in the talent show here again. I'm so much stronger and more flexible than I was when I first made the dance routine. I need to add more to it 'cause it's too easy.

Also, karaoke every Saturday until I leave the island.

26.

Just turned 26 today. It's the last portion of my mid-twenties. Last year, the internet went out around 12:02 AM on my birthday and did not turn back on for another day or two, so this birthday has been a step up (the island can make drinking alone in my room with internet into an improvement).

When I turned 25, I had spent a year traveling to Europe and then to med school in the Caribbean. I had discovered what real depression feels like, and the intense failure that brought it on. My worldviews were shaken considerably as I daily interacted with cultures vastly different from my own.

Comparatively, this past year has had little travel. The U.S. presidential election campaigns have revealed a darker side of America and I have felt forced to very specifically define my beliefs and the reasons for them. It has been a year of redefining my beliefs especially with regard to both current events and my readings of the Bible (specifically the Old Testament). These, combined with the legal and ethical issues that are frequently addressed in medical school, have pressured me to reevaluate most of my thinking.

But because my beliefs have been shaken and reshaped, I am starting to feel like this may be the me that I will settle on. I think it's the most informed and thought out version of me that has yet existed. And if I remember correctly from my intro to psych class in my first semester in college, I'm close to the age at which my personality becomes more permanent.

The world is changing. I feel too old and too young, and so does everything around me. How does one deal with this life of contrast? Perhaps a drink will soothe this aching soul.

Why Am I A Christian?

The power went out during every break between classes this past week. It was so draining to have to sit at school for hours rather than just take a nap in my room. Consequently, I'm already behind in studying.

I watch sermons from Pastor Judah Smith every week. His latest series has been on the downside of being a Christian, what it really means to follow Jesus. Stuff like giving up racism and prejudice (as with the contrast of Jesus' behavior verses that of his disciples when it came to the Samaritan woman at the well) and today's, which was about how home becomes redefined when you follow Christ. And that, of course, hits home with me. Me following Christ has meant that I live on an island with those whose beliefs disagree with my own by a large margin, and I spend most of my time wishing to be back in America. I don't really feel at home anywhere, but I feel snatches of it when I'm in Texas, in Arkansas, and in my own little room here.

Every time I've been asked why I believe what I believe, it's always difficult. I always feel like I answer wrong. I grew up with it, but that's not why. I like it, but that's not why. I love the history and culture of it, but that's not why. I think it's just that when I've been on the mission field, when I get to be selfless for a change, and when I suddenly find myself equipped only with what I have on me or in me at a a particular moment, that is when I find myself. I find a greater sense of purpose and accountability than I possess at any other time. Furthermore, even the most objective observer must affirm that what is accomplished in such exploits is a pure and faultless good. Because, rather brilliantly, we are finally able to look past ourselves and see what we can do for other people and actually do it.

Of course, I'm never that articulate in my responses.

After doing pretty well on my first exams, I am very much hoping that the next ones will have similarly favorable outcomes. I just want to escape this island. To study and have a social life... To be able to say "no" to peoples' requests to hang out, rather than never having any requests to respond to at all.

Where I Stand

I made an 86 in the harder class and a 76 in the easier class. Typical of me to do worse in the easier one.

I don't know where I stand anymore. My love for Jesus seems in contrast with my beliefs and my stance on a lot of issues in comparison to Christians where I grew up. To some of them, I may hardly be considered a Christian simply on account of how I interpret the beginning of the Bible. And I, in turn, find myself judging Christians for somehow justifying the backing of a man who wants to do things that specifically go against my beliefs as both a Christian and an American.

Particularly while living on this island, surrounded by learning and values involving patient rights and choice, I have found myself despising the beliefs I once grew up with. Part of this stems from the fact that I haven't lived in a Christian community for years now, and also from the ignorance present in those areas I once frequented.

It's a real struggle for me now. I study my Bible every day. I study and work hard, and I've put myself through a lot of difficulties (my travels through Europe) for the sake of making myself a better person. And becoming a better person was for the purpose of being this sort of ideal doctor and missionary. But this sound reasoning that I feel I've developed, and this moral code derived from Biblical teaching, none of it seems of great benefit. Is this what Jesus felt like in his mid-twenties? Studying hard, knowing that he'd be the only one with the proper knowledge and perspective once his ministry started?

All of those that I once looked up to appear to be supporting that which is in contrast with everything I've grown up believing.

Last night, I dreamed that I hung out (and did extremely mild flirting) with the too young girl with doctor dad. The amount of respect that I have for him is very great (probably don't want to find out who he's voting for). So I was overly careful and respectful toward his daughter, and it was great. The picture in my head of their family is one of clear Christ-centered morals, lots of sarcasm, good looks, and smart people. And that is a tough combination to find. My mind seems so fixed on where it is that I've more or less ruled out any such people existing anymore, at least in the dating realm. Maybe something will be different once I get back to the States...

Afraid For America

I apparently haven't posted since February. I passed last semester. As usual, the easier class is the one I nearly failed. I'm in my (hopefully) last semester on the island. Instead of five blocks of exams, we only have three, which means that I can't screw up early on or I won't be able to make it up. Some things are working against us compared to last semester, and others are working for us, so we'll see.

Friends and family in Texas are voting for Trump. From what I can tell, this is because he is republican. He's not specifically pro-life enough to justify voting for him for that reason, and the overt racism and sexism and propositions to limit freedom of religion (in violation of our constitutional rights) should be enough to make any sane person vote against him.

In fact, when my dad claimed that Muslims are responsible for the terrorist attacks in America, I asked "what about all the shootings?" and he claimed that shootings aren't terrorist attacks. So I asked why the San Bernardino shooting counted as a terrorist attack, and the answer I suggested, that he didn't seem to have a reply for, was that the shooter was Muslim.

I am aghast at the racism and sexism that still exists in my country, a country that has reinforced countless times throughout my education that such prejudices are not only wrong, but have been eradicated in past decades. These dispositions, however, remain alive and well. And my church and surrounding community seem to be holding onto such dispositions.

Anyway, I must watch and read a million lectures if I hope to live in America for more than a few weeks this fall. I am afraid of what my country has and will become.

How To Survive

A weekend to destress was helpful. Still not feeling at the top of my game, but I am remembering how I survived in times past: looking forward. Even if I fail out, I get to spend the weekend of April 22nd in Arkansas reconnecting with some cherished friends. And that's really something. Two months until that time. Two months to dig myself out of where I am and find my way again.

I've kept my mind pure since my last post. Granted, I've also been drinking heavily. Particularly after our recent pharmacology lecture on the effects of ethanol, I've appreciated much more the decrease in cognition that ethanol provides. Thank God for GABA. So perhaps in contrast to many other men, I drink to help myself avoid sinning. And to decrease anxiety of course. And a number of other reasons probably. Hard to tell (I'm currently drinking).

I've gotta keep my mind elsewhere. Study hard and daydream of another time and place. That's how I've survived in the past. If I become hopeless, I become depressed, and when troubles come, that depression can easily turn to anxiety.

Awful

Passed pharm with a 73. Failed pathology with a 65.5. Passing path with a 70.3 and pharm with a 75.5.

Anxiety is awful. So is depression. I just want to be back around people in America. It was hard enough to remember friends while they weren't far away. Separated by time and distance... I just don't know anymore. I feel like nothing, and also worse and worse.

If I had failed out when I first started med school, at least I would have only had around $15k to lose over it. Now it's multiple tens of thousands of dollars later, and I'm terrified of failing out. All that money lost. I've met people who've done that; they were coworkers that I trained before I knew anything about medicine.

I keep wanting to give it all to God, but it feels like when I first went to college. I don't know how. I'm saying the words, but it's not changing. And my thoughts haven't been pure either. That's an effect from the time and distance thing, as well as the grades. I just feel very very alone and no amount of texting or skyping does that much to alleviate the problems.

I know that there's a lot of potential sitting in me, but being martyred would be just peachy. Or just killed in a less dignified way. If God allows it, I won't be too picky.

Till then, I'll try to do better. And endure. Maybe suck less...

On The Horizon

It's that time again. Less than a week until exams, followed by exams, and then exams. And, naturally, Valentine's Day falls upon the weekend preceding all of it, just in case anyone had not yet been dissuaded from a world of happiness.

Honestly, I'm just trying to keep my mind clean. It's a daily struggle meow. It was easier in times past, but distance does tend to make the heart grow fonder. Okay, it's really just lust. It's way easier to objectify people when you hardly ever talk to them.

Anyway, pharmacology and pathology and foundations of clinical medicine. All will be tested soon. I have a much better grip on everything than I did on the last exam, partially due to the fact that I don't have a cold this time.

Uhhh.... that's all maybe...

Irritable

I've gotten more angry lately. Waking up for hospital rotations, getting less exercise, and having to be around people too much... I dunno, something took its toll. The guys I hang out with, the white guys, also happen to be obese. And it hadn't been a big deal until I had to hang out with them so much. But it's pretty genuinely repulsive, how much they eat. I hate to be judgmental, and I can normally kinda just say "to each their own", but even I am cutting back on alcohol the more I read about its potential negative long-term effects. But despite obesity being a killing thing in America, they go on fueling it.

That and the fact that there's a reason why they failed classes in the past, and failed their first exams this semester. We make fun of others in the class for asking dumb questions, but now I've stopped asking basic questions like "what's that the prof just said?" because there's always a follow-up question along with the answer, to make sure I got all the info or to explain something obvious. When our patience is being constantly tested by power outages and useless lectures, it starts to be tough to be polite.

I just want to be back in America. I know that it won't solve every problem, but it will solve a lot of them.

I don't want to find my relief in drinking. Drinking should be in celebration, not to drown sorrows. But the latter will happen if I don't figure something out...

No more rotations till next month. Exams a week from Tuesday (followed by exams in playing doctor class the following Friday and Monday).

I wish I didn't need to work out every other day. Or go to lectures. Or all of the things.

Weekend In St Kitts

It was a big weekend. Skipped classes on Friday and the timing worked out so we only got to the hotel half an hour after my family had arrived. My mom and I got massages on the beach and we all had lunch and talked about this and that.

I also had a tinder match from a vet student on this island just a few days before, and she told me that I should meet up with her. After watching a movie with my friends, they dropped me off at the bar where she was. Over the course of like 40 minutes of walking to a wifi spot to message her and then walking back to the bar, she finally spotted me. (Her pictures didn't clearly show her face, and I wasn't about to bet that the pretty girl dancing with all the guys was my tinder match). Moments after greeting me, she said something to a friend to the side about going to the Marriott because there was a "greater chance for makeout", yet I had the feeling that I had already been somewhat dismissed at this point, probably because I was acting so timid. Or socially uncomfortable. Or also who knows.

In any case, her friends were driving back to the Marriott, where I was staying anyway, and I asked if there was room for me. She said that there was, though once again, I was pretty sure that the welcome was forced. The fortunate thing about leaving a bar environment to sit in a car, of course, is that I could make jokes. The guy in the front asked tinder girl who this creeper was in the car, and I replied something to the effect of "Hello captain, my name is London" and introduced myself as the medical student from Nevis. I made a bunch of jokes to ripen the mood, and by the end of that five minute drive, we were all conversing about the differences between our schools and islands.

In the casino portion of the hotel, the tinder girl was chatting up some guys, then soon disappeared, presumably for those makeout opportunities. I made friends with the guys there and then retired for the evening. The tinder girl was cute but did remind me too much of my crazy youngest sister, though far more reserved (which is to say not that reserved). However, meeting someone new from a different school and island was preferable by far to what my friends did, which was pig out, watch some shows, and smoke a cigar.

Of course, before the movie, my friends had asked if I had a rubber for my encounter with tinder girl. I then informed them that I'm still a virgin, that such matters weren't really a concern for me. And they were shocked. Not only because of the fact that I'm relatively fit and attractive (they are obese and alright), but also because I keep up just fine in conversation when wading the waters of double entendres and sexual innuendos. My younger homeschooled self would be proud.

This opened up a flood of questions from my atheist friend. Virginity in his eyes meant some real commitment to a faith, so he began quizzing me on different denominations and spiritual beliefs. I didn't try to preach at him, since I really dislike that concept of evangelism. I just answered in terms of history and culture for the most part. Even though I wasn't actively trying to convert him (though I did joke about it), it was nice that just this part of my life that I've actually managed to give to God despite temptation can change the way a person perceives me and my faith.

On Saturday, my friends were content to sit around and watch CSI for hours until checkout. They both talked about it like it was the ideal, laying in bed while watching that. I was so restless. I wanted to read or do anything else. Anyway, the rest of the story was basically just that we went back to Nevis that day and I watched a James Bond movie before going to sleep.

And now, a week of early wakeups begins. Lab tomorrow and then hospital rotations in the mornings until Friday. We'll see how stupid I end up feeling...

Paaaasssseeeddddd

Okay, I passed both exams as nicely as ever. My higher grade (78, just below class average) was in pharmacology, which was a surprise. Rumor has it that seven questions were dropped from that exam, which would explain how I managed to pass. I made a 75 in pathology, though the average was about the same for both classes. Fortunately, pathology really doesn't worry me that much, since like half of the material is stuff that we've already learned in multiple other classes.

Tomorrow, my mom and brother visit the neighbor island via cruise, so I'm waking up early and traveling to St Kitts with a couple of friends from school.

And I'm so relieved about those grades. I still need to shape up and do way better, but it's not such an awful pressure. Can't say the same for my friends though...

Fear & Anxiety

Over the past couple weeks, every time someone asked "how are you?", I would reply by saying that I wouldn't know until I have some grades posted. As much as I hate it, this seems to be my world. Forever trapped in the question of whether I'll do well enough on exams to get back to America. I've been enjoying learning so much this month; pharmacology in particular is fascinating, with each clinical vignette being like a riddle that I can actually solve. So although days of studying were draining as usual, I still enjoyed it. Until the tests. Pharmacology was a brutal exam. Like, I hope I passed, but I'm not betting on it. So now I've felt this anxiety creeping on me, and the compulsion to constantly check the grades will hit me again and again.

What I hate is that I know this feeling isn't right. I shouldn't be hit with anxiety over something like this, right? Worry never helped anything. Yet here I am, my feelings tied to the results of my collective knowledge tested on a particular exam.

What do I do with that? Submit it to God? Yeah, trying. Work out for endorphins? Done. Booze it up? Beer in hand and hoping to avoid taking it any further.

When that depressive episode hit me last year as a result of grades and having to stay an extra semester, I couldn't stop it. Prayer, Bible, God, workouts, booze, none of it fixed it. It was like a heavy blanket. I could hold it at bay for a little bit, but the weight of it was still always there. So now that I'm a full-time student again, I'm afraid of the same thing happening. Again. Especially since I've come so far...

I'm eight months away from getting off of this rock. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. But that's only if I don't screw this up. I don't want to spend another Thanksgiving here.

So there it is. I have anxiety about these grades. I want to submit them to God, but don't seem able to when actually confronted with the grades.

As it stands, I think I made at least a 50 on pharm and at least a 70 in path. A year ago, of course, I was sure that I'd made at least a 90 in a class, and that turned out to be a 58.

"Don't Waste Your Time"

Some days I try to remember who my friends are, and the feeling hits me that I should ditch most of them. It's an instinct, this thing that tells me that friends who aren't contributing to my own well-being are not good friends to have. And that's said a lot by a lot of people, the whole "don't waste your time on people who don't appreciate you" thing. But I don't see it that way, or, at least, I don't when I give it real thought.

There are a few reasons for this line of thought. The first reason is selfish. It's a networking thing. If I don't burn a bridge, if I remain somewhat in contact with a person, they become a resource for later use; they could, in some country or city or party where you don't know anyone, be your ticket to having a social evening, and meeting others through them who are more your brand of personality.

The second, very fortunate reason, is that people change. People you dismissed as fools or simple-minded people can end up being more educated, or more socially aware, or married, or any number of things that can change a person.

A third reason (I'm sure there are more) is that it's actually not about you. The Bible doesn't leave room for picking and choosing. We're supposed to love everyone, and that often comes at the sacrifice of our own preferences.

Now of course, we're all likely to aim towards our usual friends who seem the best to us, And there's probably not much harm in that. And if you're very sensitive to the words of others, it probably would be wise to take a break from those who you feel tear you down. But as for me, I don't tend to give much weight to the words of others, especially if I don't hold them in high regard. In any case, my self-worth comes from my relationship with Jesus, so any negative words usually seem to reflect poorly on the one they're coming from.

So don't burn bridges.

Ah Yes (Ah No?)

I've been meaning to post for awhile now... Life happened a lot while I was home for break. We went on a cruise. Everyone was nuts and it was honestly exhausting. Given how much drama is in our family now, I can see how people become workaholics, alcoholics, etc...

But that's not why I'm writing now. It was a good break. But now I'm back. The last time I was a full-time student was this semester a year ago. That's when I was thrown into a depression. And now, I'm kinda terrified of the same happening again. I watched a bunch of lectures this weekend, but the doubts always creep in. Like, should I have tried reading from the textbook instead? And I have this sore throat, so I get distracted by that as well...

So I'm just trying to commit it to God. I'll try hard to work hard. If I say "work my hardest", it sounds too much like last year when that mindset got me consistent failing grades.

I normally write out reflections for the new year, but I'm falling short this year, even knowing that these reflections help me to grow more as a person and as a Christian. Last year was maybe my toughest to date. It certainly had some of the lowest points to date. Exercise doesn't shake off depression; it was like being draped with a persistent unhappy that you can't seem to get rid of.

But now I've long since recovered from that. Unless I fail something (and I am very genuinely terrified of that), I get to leave the island in August.

I have more friends who want to travel, so if I go again, I won't have to do so alone. And I won't do it in as impoverished a fashion as before; I had my taste already. My current schedule will leave me with an extra ten months around rotations, so as long as I can adequately explain what I did with that extra time to a residency director, I should be okay. So really, I have no idea.

Anyway, I've got some classes to fail. I'm playing patient tomorrow for playing doctor class, and this abdominal pain isn't going to fake itself.