Friday, 13 January 2012

Waiting to be appropriate...

Its starting to feel like I should be having nightmares day in day out about medical school. Like I should be obsessively checking my inbox for news from the universities.

Honestly maybe my lack of constitutive hyperventilation is some kind of sign that I - I don't know - don't deserve it?

Don't get me wrong. When I stop to think about it there's a whole cornucopia of overwhelmed I morph into. I mean on occasion I'd be found to be of the laboured-breathing-doomsday persuasion, scouring student forums obsessively in the hunt for some comforting shred about the whole situation that I know is not there.
Mostly I find people who seem so much better than I am, so much more qualified, so much more deserving, so much more than I am. At this point I critically evaluate my standing as an applicant and brutally put myself down as one of the weaker candidates based entirely on my UKCAT score.

That one weakness in my application feels like being utterly naked with little to no chance of recovering some dignity this time around.

Which is why I was surprised to get interviews at UEA and Leicester.

Despite all this negativity (which to me is less that and more reality) let me be absolutely clear - as clear and final as I was at my UEA interview when I was asked what I would do if I were rejected from all my choices this year.

I am not giving up.

Never. I'll just apply again and again. As many times as it takes.

But even through that conviction shouldn't I be more than a little worried? Uncertain and afraid?

Yeah well I am. Very much so. Sometimes it gets so bad I can't sleep. The thought of taking the UKCAT again is like jumping through a fire-lit hoop blindfolded.

But I know that in the end I will get there, without a doubt. In ten years' time I see two possibilities:

1 - Successful medical doctor. Stressed, working hard, hiccups and uphill struggles with pride, achievement and conviction holding me together through it.

2 - Standard phD doctor. Stressed, working hard, hiccups and uphill struggles with nothing pushing me through it but a need to have a job and a stable income.

It has come to a point where nothing else will fulfill my ambitions and everything else is second best. In my head anything but medicine is failure and a last, desperate resort - it would be settling. Any other job will be half-hearted at best and resented at worst.

I am afraid. I'm terrified. Sometimes so much so I can't breathe and my head fills with everything I need to do, everything admissions are looking for, doubts about myself, doubts about my expectations, doubts about how I must look to admissions on interviews.

Too passionate? Too emotionally involved? Too vague and unclear? Too unfocused? Focused on the wrong thing? Disillusioned? Too articulate? Not articulate enough? Nothing new? Nothing special?

Not good enough?

Not enough?

So maybe the lack of nightmares just mean I'm dealing with enough when I'm awake. Or maybe the avoidance of these thoughts means I'm trying to keep focused.
Maybe it means I'm not taking it seriously enough. Maybe it means nothing and all this worry over how appropriate I am considering my situation is unfair to me as an individual applying to be a doctor.

We'll see. Just got to keep waiting.