For Me...

"Our lives improve only when we take chances - and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves." - Walter Anderson

"If your success is not on your own terms, if it looks good to the world but does not feel good in your heart, it is not success at all." - Anna Quindlen

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody." - Bill Cosby

A lot has happened since last night. I finally reached my breaking point. As I lay crying and shaking uncontrollably with my dad listening patiently on the other end of the phone, I actually asked him, "How do I make it through the next few hours?" You know you have reached rock bottom when the idea of surviving until the next morning seems impossible.

For the first time in what seems like my entire life, I was being truly honest with myself. It was both exhilarating and the scariest thing I've ever done. I was finally owning up to the fact that I do not have any desire whatsoever to be in medical school or to even be a physician. I always knew, deep down, that I felt this way, but I had pushed myself unrelentingly down this career path anyway. I had pushed myself into the ground until I was so miserable, I could barely function. I've lost weight, developed heartburn, and I can sleep well over twelve hours a night and still not feel rested the next day. I've transformed into a walking zombie, living with no hope and loathing every minute of every day spent in class or studying.

I really tried to find something in my classes that I found even remotely interesting or exciting, and I couldn't come up with a single thing. I even hated anatomy and my "Introduction to Patient Care" class where I learned how to take histories and physicals and gained experience working with patients. Even I could not ignore what a huge red flag this was.

One could try to argue that no one likes medical school, even those medical students that are the most promising. My response to this statement would be, even if that was true (which it's not), those students can see a light at the end of the tunnel. They are able to make sacrifices while in school because they know they are working towards becoming a physician, a goal they are passionate about. I never had that. I never truly wanted to be a physician and the idea of heading towards that destination filled me with a deep sense of dread and made me feel both trapped and hopeless. I was able to admit to myself last night that there honestly isn't a single medical specialty that I am the least bit interested in, let alone could see myself doing for the rest of my life.

As I studied for my cellular biology exam last night, the thought occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to find another subject in the entire world to read about that would be less interesting to me if I tried. That is literally how much I hate this material. (I felt the same way when I studied for biochemistry and, to a slightly lesser degree, anatomy and histology.)

I've known all along that I hate the sciences. My brain certainly does not naturally function in a "scientific manner." I absolutely hate rote memorization (which is 95% of medical school) and would much rather analyze, write and read language. Simply put, my brain has and always will be wired for the arts and the humanities. Again, I've secretly known this all along, but I buried my feelings and forced myself to do things that really weren't in my skill set. How I made it this far is truly astonishing, considering just how much I hate the sciences. It is also extremely sad that I've pushed myself for this long and spent the last six or seven years pursuing something I never really wanted in the first place.

Why, you may ask, then, did I do it? There were two major reasons. One, I'm a people-pleaser and always thought becoming a physician would please my family most. (What I wanted was obviously never that important to me.) Two, I am afraid of taking risks and of failure, so the idea of following the more or less "guaranteed path to success" of becoming a physician seemed like a safe career choice. Along with the second reason, if I'm being totally honest, the prestige of being a physician was also very attractive to me.

Clearly, these are not good enough reasons to become a physician. Had I continued lying to myself and forcing myself down this path, I honestly don't know what would have become of me. Last night, I was literally at my wit's end. I wanted to throw things. I was so depressed and so overwhelmed that I thought my heart might stop. Within the span of about thirty minutes, my head was throbbing, I could feel a sore throat developing, I was itching the skin on my hand until it was raw, and I was dry heaving. At that point I realized enough is enough. I couldn't do this to myself anymore. It shouldn't be this bad, and though I did not have a backup plan in mind (which, by the way, terrifies me), there must be something in this world I can do that I don't absolutely despise.

Since making the decision to withdraw from medical school, I have felt, more than anything, a tremendous amount of peace and relief. I've felt hope, which I can't remember having felt for a very long time. The world seems like a better place than it did before, and I no longer feel trapped in my own life. Though I don't know yet what career path I would like to pursue, I am excited at the possibility of finding a goal that I can be passionate about. I have to be prepared to experience a lot of ups and downs, however, in the next few months due to making this decision.

When all is said and done though, I don't believe I really even made a decision. It had all reached a point where I simply had no other choice.