(no subject)
So midterms are finished. I'm still recovering. I did well enough, I suppose.
I reach this point every semester where I don't really want to go on. It's not that I want to quit, necessarily. I just run out of steam. And then I look back and get frustrated because I always feel like my investment didn't quite match up with my return. It's tough to talk about because I don't think this is an area that most of my non med-school friends have much experience with, honestly. It's not the medicine. It's not the academic stress or the sporadic severe lack of sleep or having irritating classmates. It's always looking slightly up at the class average instead of down on it. I'm bottom half, guys (and admit it - don't you think at least a little less of me now that you know that?). Yeah, I got into a school with an 8% acceptance rate, but now I'm something like 54/73. And I am so sick of it. And I don't know, maybe it really is just that since I automatically have a life (married = give and take. which means giving once in a while) I can't be as committed to school as my single or maritally neglectful colleagues. So maybe my grades will make a big jump next semester when it's just me and the cats. But that's not a comfort now and it feels like an excuse.
Part of me really wants to just say, 'Well, then, fix it if you're not satisfied. Work harder.' But I already work for 3-5 hours weeknights and 6-8 hours each weekend day, and that just gets me by. There isn't much fat to trim. So as for what 'work harder' means? It means not sleeping seven hours a night which leads to a generally decreased ability to interact with people. Not being able to wash my clothes every couple of weeks or keep track of my own finances or empty the dishwasher. Gaining weight uncontrollably like many of my classmates because they don't have time or energy to make real food or exercise regularly and are so chemically messed up from sleep deprivation and stress that they don't even know which way is up health-wise.
Not being able to mean it when I look in Matt's eyes and tell him he is the most important thing to me on this earth.
And even knowing all that... it's almost worth it to not be a whole person, to be an overachiever who's all shiny on the outside but cracking at the foundations. It's not. But it almost is.
Achievement is an idol that is tough to walk away from. And despite the fact that I never feel better or more complete or fulfilled than when I am doing the will of my God and taking no credit, it's hard at times for me to remember that as a Christian I live this life for His glory, not my own. And my God doesn't measure things the way we do, so sometimes that really means no glory of my own, nothing to conveniently warm myself with as I pass it on to Him. That last part forms an unhealthy mindset but one I feel at times poorly equipped to fight.
Speaking of faith, sometimes I wonder what the people who watched me get saved have really seen. There are only a few of you, actually, who got to witness my struggle and salvation. Sometimes I wonder if you even know what you really saw. I think about it almost every day, even after three and a half years. More than my career, more than finding Matt, more than the abuse or my back injury, finding my God changed my life on every level. I don't know if I always communicate what an earth-shaker that was. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, I probably need to tell you. It makes for a decent fairytale if you don't believe me, and a deep and mysterious challenge if you do.
I reach this point every semester where I don't really want to go on. It's not that I want to quit, necessarily. I just run out of steam. And then I look back and get frustrated because I always feel like my investment didn't quite match up with my return. It's tough to talk about because I don't think this is an area that most of my non med-school friends have much experience with, honestly. It's not the medicine. It's not the academic stress or the sporadic severe lack of sleep or having irritating classmates. It's always looking slightly up at the class average instead of down on it. I'm bottom half, guys (and admit it - don't you think at least a little less of me now that you know that?). Yeah, I got into a school with an 8% acceptance rate, but now I'm something like 54/73. And I am so sick of it. And I don't know, maybe it really is just that since I automatically have a life (married = give and take. which means giving once in a while) I can't be as committed to school as my single or maritally neglectful colleagues. So maybe my grades will make a big jump next semester when it's just me and the cats. But that's not a comfort now and it feels like an excuse.
Part of me really wants to just say, 'Well, then, fix it if you're not satisfied. Work harder.' But I already work for 3-5 hours weeknights and 6-8 hours each weekend day, and that just gets me by. There isn't much fat to trim. So as for what 'work harder' means? It means not sleeping seven hours a night which leads to a generally decreased ability to interact with people. Not being able to wash my clothes every couple of weeks or keep track of my own finances or empty the dishwasher. Gaining weight uncontrollably like many of my classmates because they don't have time or energy to make real food or exercise regularly and are so chemically messed up from sleep deprivation and stress that they don't even know which way is up health-wise.
Not being able to mean it when I look in Matt's eyes and tell him he is the most important thing to me on this earth.
And even knowing all that... it's almost worth it to not be a whole person, to be an overachiever who's all shiny on the outside but cracking at the foundations. It's not. But it almost is.
Achievement is an idol that is tough to walk away from. And despite the fact that I never feel better or more complete or fulfilled than when I am doing the will of my God and taking no credit, it's hard at times for me to remember that as a Christian I live this life for His glory, not my own. And my God doesn't measure things the way we do, so sometimes that really means no glory of my own, nothing to conveniently warm myself with as I pass it on to Him. That last part forms an unhealthy mindset but one I feel at times poorly equipped to fight.
Speaking of faith, sometimes I wonder what the people who watched me get saved have really seen. There are only a few of you, actually, who got to witness my struggle and salvation. Sometimes I wonder if you even know what you really saw. I think about it almost every day, even after three and a half years. More than my career, more than finding Matt, more than the abuse or my back injury, finding my God changed my life on every level. I don't know if I always communicate what an earth-shaker that was. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, I probably need to tell you. It makes for a decent fairytale if you don't believe me, and a deep and mysterious challenge if you do.