It's almost two in the morning right now, and I'm sitting on the floor of my new bedroom, cross-legged with my Mac in my lap. Beside me, I have the following:
- A mini white-board
- A biology textbook
- My iPhone
- Various boxes and suitcases
I went to bed a few hours ago, but woke up to get myself a drink of water and decided that since I'm up, I might as well do a bit of review before I doze off. Who are we kidding?
I'm going to blog.
I don't really have much to say. What I initially mistook for some inner sense of peace, some much needed calm, turned out to be something else entirely. Rather than peace, I think I've stumbled upon defeat. As it stands, I have no idea what my future holds. No, this isn't one of those exciting "look-at-all-the-opportunities-that-may-lie-ahead" kind of chaos; it's much, much worse.
I don't know where I'm going to end up. People ask, and I'll confuse them with some cryptic answer involving the Ministry of Higher Education's fuckery, Canadian paperwork and KU but the truth is... maybe I don't want to get my transfer? I've been thinking about this a lot lately. It's no secret that I have little to no sincere desire to pursue medicine. Listening to myself justify this odd career choice to my friends, and you'd almost think I'm trying to convince myself of something.
I dislike science. I hate math. No matter what I do or say, I'll never become half the doctor my father is. I highly doubt I will even graduate from medical school (not a "real" one anyways), if I make it in to one. I can't not at least try, because then I' shall be doing nothing more than proving the naysayers right. My parents will say, "Oh, you're not medschool material anyways." I'll be furious and want to prove everyone wrong, but I can't. I can't right a wrong with another wrong.
I don't even know if I'm good enough to excel at what I want to do (something with English, politics and publishing). So, a crippling fear of failure and a lack of academic confidence seem to have me forever bound to this stupid track. My hands are tied.
Sleepy, depressed, and staving off anxiety attacks.
Wrecking the train,
PS - I'm really sleepy.