Anxiety is one of my uphill battles. I do my best to put up a strong front, but many people can attest: a nervous me is not a good thing. Many little things can trigger a reaction, such as city driving, accidentally bumping into people in line, submitting medical school applications…
Yes, I finally worked up the cahoonas to submit my applications. No, I wasn’t able to do it on the first click. Or the second for that matter. The thought that such an extensive, yet hardly informative piece of paper determines my possible future scares the living day out of me. I have always been a person that knew what I was going to do and when it was going to happen. That is until May of this year. My plans were almost story book style: great GPA, full of activities, having fun, volunteering, getting accepted to medical school. Except for the fact that none of those things really happened. For two years I became trapped in a smothering relationship that took me a good few months to snap out of once over. An example of why this was mentioned: I had a grade determining anatomy laboratory practical that he decided to have a breakdown before, knowing that I wouldn’t leave him in a wreck. Needless to say I didn’t get time to study, and it obviously showed. Then became entangled in a relationship too perfect to last. I would spend my weekends driving two something hours one way, often times not getting back until just prior to my first class on Monday. My fault, I know. At least the second boy lived with me being absent for the vast majority of the relationship, which is likely the reason it didn’t last. But that puts me here today: Not accepted for medical school, with not amazing scores, and a broken heart. That might be highly exaggerated. I’ll rephrase: I am not in medical school right now, as my story book author had wrote.
I am living a life I could have never imagined, as I work my 40ish hours and then party. Or something along that lines. What happened to the high school version of me who would talk to classrooms of elementary students about not drinking? When did she leave, and who is left to take her spot? Whoever it is, she definitely knows how to have fun. Unfortunately, I am not saying this in a good way.
I’m sure I will be writing about my rejection letters or interview letters, which ever decide to be mailed. I’m guessing the party me will prevail to wear down the anxiety of the decisions.
In the meantime, I am left here thinking of who I have become, and if she is good enough to get into medical schools. The high school me would have had no troubles getting the application in on time, in perfect fashion, with outstanding reference letters. But she seems to have left of vacation a while ago, and I have not seen her since. I wish she’d get the cahoonas to come back.