The Past Nine Years


It's been over nine years since my last blog post. 

I still cannot fathom the amount of time that has passed since I was the sarcastic overachieving 17-year-old writing her thoughts so effortlessly

It feels like so much has changed in the past nine years, but also like nothing has at all. 

This feels so much like a diary entry (much like all the other posts on here I've come to realize).

I first started this blog because a teacher very dear to my heart recommended I do and naturally I soon lost interest. I've been struggling to keep a diary for years because I feel like it can really help with my mental health, but I just never stuck to it. Although I like to think that I am a person who values her privacy, there is something about the fact that people may read what I have to write that is a little exciting. 

I am not sure to what extent I'll be able to share on here, or if I want people to know so much about me, yet I know I'll find myself checking the views every once in a while. I don't know if this is a form of attention-seeking, or if it is a natural outcome of the society we now live in. Ultimately, it is not something I am not particularly proud of. 

It's kind of ironic that in my last blog post I wrote about how confused I was about what domain I should embark on after high school. I had such high scores, with multiple full scholarships offered to me, and the more opportunities that I received, the more overwhelmed I became.

Now, I am a graduate of Medical School with far fewer opportunities and only a very few places offered to me for residency at my university's hospital, yet, I am more confused and frustrated than I have ever been! I am very frustrated at the limited opportunities, but even more frustrated that I don't have a certain passion that I am willing to give up a position at a university hospital to pursue elsewhere and struggle to excel at. 

I am especially frustrated that I let my anxiety and melancholy get to me for two whole years post-graduating, and I let them stop me from studying for an international test to match for a residency position abroad.

Now it's too late to do that because my residency is starting soon, and I need to make up my mind as to what I'd like to take on. 

I feel stuck. 

Nine years ago, in my latest post, I was coveting all those teenagers with a certain vision of how they wanted to live their lives. Back then, I felt it was normal to be a bit lost. 

After 7 years in medical school and 2 as a general practitioner,  I feel less confident that it is okay to be equally lost at this point.  

I think it's safe to say my 17-year-old self would be mortified. How can so many years have passed, and I am rendered just as indecisive, or maybe even more so?

My dad passed away. It was halfway through med school. 

My dad was my rock, even though our relationship was rocky in itself. So much has changed since then. I have become more self-aware, more self-sufficient in many ways, yet still as indecisive as ever (probably even more than before). 

What breaks my heart the most is that I know for a fact that I have failed that 17-year-old girl. But hey, that girl might have been more resilient and more ambitious, but she had her (many) shortcomings.

How could a girl who's been top of her class for years know anything about living through Imposter's Syndrome every single day for almost a decade? (OH MY GOD It's been almost a FREAKIN' DECADE!!) How could she know anything about doing her best and feeling guilty for every break, every moment spent in jest, and yet being constantly haunted by the low grades she scored because that same silly 17-year-old was too overwhelmed to function in her first year of med school which ultimately affected her cumulative GPA?  

How could she know anything about being homesick, yet too scared to go home? 

She couldn't. She was too naive. 

But she did go through her fair share of struggles, and she bounced back. Despite everything, she bounced back because she knew it was her only way out. She was far stronger than I am. 

But she was also far meaner. 

I am sorry 17-year-old me. I am sorry I failed you. Every once in a while I think of you, and I am so proud of you. 

I forgive you for eventually giving up. I forgive you for letting your anxiety and fear get in the way of our dreams. I forgive you for losing control.  

I hope one day I make you equally proud and that you'll be able to forgive me too. It's taking me so much longer than I ever wanted to bounce back, but I really am trying. Please pray that I succeed soon.  


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