I’ve cried in places I never thought I’d be comfortable
crying at, including multiple public parks, on an airplane, dinner at a fancy restaurant, on a
catamaran cruising the Greek islands, during our class picture, in the school
auditorium in front of my whole class, and the list goes on. By this point,
I’ve gotten really good at crying silently, whether it’s in a public restroom
stall or a car ride with friends.
I also stopped giving a shit if seeing me cry makes someone
uncomfortable. Life is not all unicorns and rainbows and sadness needs to be
normalized as much as happiness and the highlight reel of life that is splattered
all over social media. This isn’t to say I cry in public to make a statement. I
cry because I can’t hold in my grief any longer and need an outlet. A deluge of
tears seems to do the job very well, if only temporarily.
Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m still so sad. I like to
think that I’ve accepted the fact that I didn’t match and that I’ve made a plan
for the next year to succeed. But every time I think I finally have things
under control, a random comment or thought will trigger a wave of sadness and I
feel the tears welling up.
So I’ve accepted the fact that I’m not over anything and
allow myself to continue to feel the way I feel, only truly suppressing my emotions
when absolutely necessary, such as during an important meeting with the ortho
chairman (powerful men don’t like seeing women cry). Other than that, I embrace
my sadness, let it all out, and hope that as the days pass, I will cry a little
bit less.
When people ask if I’m doing okay, I don’t even bother with
pleasantries anymore and go straight into, “No, I’m not.” Most times, I leave
it at that but often I add, “I’m in a rough place.” Most people don’t know what
to do with that, but I figure they should stop asking if they don’t want an
honest answer (these are people who know my situation, not randos on the
street).
I had a brief respite from sadness on vacation, where, for
the most part, I was able to forget how shitty everything was going. I became
an aunt (!) and the subsequent barrage of newborn pictures has brightened many of
my days. I also spent some quality time in the motherland with family I hadn’t
seen in years and relaxed for nearly a full week on the family homestead. It
was soooo nice.
 |
| The peaceful homestead |
Then I came back to reality where I had to pack up all my
things, leave my best friend with whom I’d lived for 13 years, and move to an
apartment I absolutely hate in a city where I know nobody. I had planned this
early move before graduation to start kissing some ortho butt at my new
program, get started on research, and start attending conferences to get my
face out there before the onslaught of intern year began.
But these plans seem to be backfiring just as badly as my
ortho dreams. The apartment I had rented on a house-hunting trip before
vacation was supposed to be “luxury” and full of natural light but instead is dingy and
dated*. The research coordinator is dragging her feet about getting me on a
project and has stopped answering my emails. The general surgery coordinator
said she will TRY to get me a month of ortho, although it’s not guaranteed (I
was promised a month by the PD during my SOAP interview, which is the only
reason I chose this program).
I know nobody at the morning ortho conferences and
it’s weird to start introducing myself to random residents, especially since I
don’t even know how that introduction would go. Am I a 4th year med
student since I haven’t graduated yet? A future surgery resident? Either way,
I’m still embarrassed I didn’t match and feel like I’m being judged every time
I mention it, which is something I need to work on hardcore for the next month or
so.
In short, moving early seems to be a terrible mistake thus far, taking me away from my friends prematurely and getting nothing in return career-wise but rather sinking me back into despair and hopelessness about my future.
In short, moving early seems to be a terrible mistake thus far, taking me away from my friends prematurely and getting nothing in return career-wise but rather sinking me back into despair and hopelessness about my future.
I had made pretty good progress over vacation to the point
where I would go days without shedding a single tear. But I’ve seemed to
regress pretty hardcore with this move and am back to being incapacitated with
grief at least once a day.**
As before, I’m working on taking things day-by-day,
finishing everything I need to get done so I’m still a functioning member of
society, and looking forward to July 1 so I actually have something to do with
my days instead of wallow in self-pity.
---
*Apparently in this city, they REFUSE to show you the actual
unit you’re renting. I insisted on seeing something other than the model unit
(which wasn’t even my apartment’s layout), so they very reluctantly showed me
an empty unit that would resemble mine in trimmings and would be of the same
quality as mine. Let’s just say that their definition of resembling my apartment is very different than mine.
**For those concerned about my mental health, I may be
extremely sad but that’s about where my symptoms of MDD end. Well, I haven’t
been sleeping much or eating well, and I’ve lost interest in some things (such
as packing or caring what people think of my emotions). But I’m functioning as well
as any fourth year med student, that is, I don’t want to do anything, and for the most part, get everything done that needs to be done. So overall, given the circumstances, I’m doing
well-ish.
