2016 Year End Reflections Pt 1

New Year. In 2015, I went through what was pretty easily the most difficult year of my life (2014 might have been a contender before that), so it only makes sense that 2016 would try to top it. It's becoming more and more difficult to say that the arduous nature of these experiences should always be crafting me into something better.

Backpacking through Europe was difficult but purposeful; despite this, there remained an uneasy change in the way I thought about God as a result. My first year of medical school brought me through a rewiring of my brain, then failure with the depression that followed (along with the prospect of more island imprisonment) and less comradery with classmates because those classmates changed.

I was surrounded by people with different customs, ideas, morals, and behaviors. People who were willing to talk about things that I'd never thought it appropriate to talk about, yet with that came an openness that made me more comfortable with peoples and groups which I hadn't previously been comfortable.

So I adapted, I changed, I renewed, and though my relationship with God surely faltered due to lack of discipline in prayer and a deficit in Christian community, I was consistent in studying the Bible and watching a weekly sermon.

And then I made it back home.

Home. Texas. The place that my medical psychology professor had mocked for the beliefs of its populace. And he was quite justified in doing so. Here is a place where, for the most part, science and faith are forced to meet in pitched battle rather than in a friendly wrestling bout. Here is where a thing is true until proven false, rather than the truth verified by facts. Conspiracy theories predominate while accepted science is ridiculed. Believe differently? Well, you are both a fool and a man lacking in faith.

And the election, of course...

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.