That being said, I have begun to wonder whether Paul was depressed. If I had that kind of work to occupy me, I think I could manage better too. But as it is, I seem to be suffering from subclinical depression. It first hit in medical school, which fits with the susceptible age range for people in their 20's. That and the fact that I am training to be a physician, the profession with the highest suicide rate. All of my nearby medical friends have the same problem as me, namely that we have no method of relieving stress, or of living life outside of school. We are all international students. We have all moved from various parts of the world to be here, and when we try to make plans, we usually have to do so well in advance. And we often do not follow through because we feel guilty about not studying.
It does not help that that trusted friend I mentioned in a previous post does not seem to want me as a friend. After I displayed a considerable level of trust in what I shared, she displayed a considerable degree of distrust. It has been a few weeks and that betrayal still keeps me up at night. I have not talked to her about it because for one, she does not want much contact, and two, I angrily wrote out three pages of frustrated anger at her over it.
Everything should be done out of love, not fear. When we act out of fear, it causes harm.
So I feel drained of whatever inspiration had carried me through my first rotation, that desire to work long hours to impress the doctor. After all, this pursuit seems so stupid now. In two years, if I match, I will finally enter into residency, which has high suicide rates. That is the big goal, what I and my peers are fighting for. We want the chance to be worked over to the point that killing ourselves seems easier. And we are not allowed to struggle with our issues. We are actually supposed to convince our patients that suicide is not the answer.
Actually, I just looked it up again. I am at least borderline for major depression at the moment. Increased sleep, loss of interest, lack of energy, difficulty concentrating, and thoughts of death. Granted, the thoughts of death really have been there since I was like ten, but it did not have the company of the rest of the symptoms.
I tried not drinking a few nights this week, but that just made things worse. I tried writing out my problems. I tried sharing some of them. But being so impermanent has led to my good friends being scattered about the country and the world. My closest friend in Dallas sexually assaulted me, and I have not had the initiative to let her know.
By the way, I genuinely do not wish to take my own life. I still have work to do, though it is admittedly a reason why I leave my shotgun back at my mother's house.
The depression just hit really hard today. The things that I suppose have made me feel so worthwhile in the past, well, I keep questioning whether I still possess those qualities. I cannot dance anymore, apparently. Am I still even funny? Do I... I just know that I am still quite far from my goals, and that even when I reach those goals, those goals are merely a stepping stone to reach real goals, and every point in the process seems awful and lonely.
The bright side in all of it is that I found that liking a girl made me happy. That is not a feeling that I typically look for, but once I grasped it, actually felt it, I was so afraid of losing it that I acted poorly with it. I let fear be the motivation.
Anyway, OB/GYN is turning out to be like pediatrics, in which I know nothing about it, so I have to study up. The doctor is not charmed by me, and since charm is all I have, I feel like my only advantage is gone. So I must study. Somehow fight through the depressive symptoms and study.
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