Currently at med school we're learning about the brain and it's multitude of roles and possible dysfunctions. Obviously, I am drawn to diagnosing myself with every new disorder I learn, even though I know I don't have it.
Knowing alone isn't enough to rest your worries, though.
I'm not quite sure how you learn or teach someone else to go from worry to acceptance and calm. For example, people with OCD know that their thoughts and actions are not reasonable, but they are still compelled to continue with them. How do you tell your brain to switch off? How do you join the hard facts of knowledge with the feelings in the now and present?
One of my biggest struggles is with procrastination and stress - I know that they are neither productive nor fun, and yet I am forever in their mess. It's not like I don't know how to study, or that I should study. I just can't. And more to the point, don't.
Fixing this sort of chronic battle with myself is exhausting, and small steps take the longest of time. I know I am better today than I was 7 years ago, and that I will be better still in 7 years time, but that is a total of 14 years to get to where other people were at right at the beginning. Again, I know that comparing yourself to the average/others is unhelpful, that everyone has their own journey etc. etc. But I have no excuse for being the way I am now, except for laziness and lack of control over my own mind.
And I don't know how to fix it. There's no pill to fix a rubbish personality. I am responsible for chaos in my life, not some underlying illness or external monsters. I know this. But I don't feel it, because if I did I'd be changing it.
Maybe my problem is a disconnect from reality?
As I write this I am in the library, supposed to be studying for an upcoming test. I know that it will take me ages to get through the 6 weeks of examined material. And yet I'm on here, writing mediocre melodrama.
How.
Do.
I.
Make.
It.
Stop.
???
Peace and love,
S.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Republic of My Heart
Oh Republic of my Heart
Don't falter in the breaking dawn
The sun will rise
And the blood in your streets
Will transform from seas of black
To warm ruby glow
Stand tall!
Stand tall
And take what is yours
But take care!
Keep at bay
the wolves of your past
with the fire in your depths
And the walls around your softness
Republic!
No one owns you
And you are uncaged
Step forward from your past
And know that I alone
Will hold you
And defend you
S.
Don't falter in the breaking dawn
The sun will rise
And the blood in your streets
Will transform from seas of black
To warm ruby glow
Stand tall!
Stand tall
And take what is yours
But take care!
Keep at bay
the wolves of your past
with the fire in your depths
And the walls around your softness
Republic!
No one owns you
And you are uncaged
Step forward from your past
And know that I alone
Will hold you
And defend you
S.
The questions that keep us up at night.
The heaviness and warmth of instant sleep - the perfect example of you don't know what you had till it's gone.
Keeping a stable and regular routine - just keeping up with life - is exhausting. Fitting in enough sleep is a struggle, and even more so when you can't turn off your consciousness. Here I will expound on some of the thoughts that keep me up at night. Often I think I am alone in my thoughts, but we are never as special as we think we are - millions before us and millions after have the same thoughts, and sharing them is a comfort in its own way. So here goes.
1. Where do tears come from? Does your body make them on demand? Or is there a reservoir full of tears, just waiting to me shed? Is this why you feel so heavy sometimes, like you haven't cried in a while and you really need to?
2. Why do we have feelings? Emotional feelings, I mean. How does this feeling take place? Where do feelings come from, and where do they go when you forget about them for a while? How do you make the connection between a good thing and a good feeling in yourself? Pain, hunger, etc is easy enough to comprehend, because it has evolutionary and survival value. But what about jealousy? How does your body make the connection with something so abstract?
3. What is a thought? How exactly are opinions and memories stored? I understand the parts of the brains involved and so on, but I don't get how something abstract is stored in a physical location. Kind of like typing on a keyboard and letters coming up on the screen. It's basically the sort of stuff that you can't explain to your grandparents.
4. Why do people feel the need to explain Australian-ness to me? Why do they feel the need to say, 'Well, I'm Australian and this is how/what we say/do?' When you raise the point with them they get very defensive about their racist tendencies, or their white privilege, but their actions are very hard to ignore.
5. Why do people feel the need to look at me, say sorry, and then continue to say something very racist? Does prefacing it with an apology absolve them of their sins? Basically, why are people so sh*t?
This took a downwards turn, so I might stop for a bit. As important as it is to express strong feelings, the majority of mine seem to be angry on a massive scale. I don't want my sense of self to be tied to this. Deep breath.
Peace and love,
S.
Keeping a stable and regular routine - just keeping up with life - is exhausting. Fitting in enough sleep is a struggle, and even more so when you can't turn off your consciousness. Here I will expound on some of the thoughts that keep me up at night. Often I think I am alone in my thoughts, but we are never as special as we think we are - millions before us and millions after have the same thoughts, and sharing them is a comfort in its own way. So here goes.
1. Where do tears come from? Does your body make them on demand? Or is there a reservoir full of tears, just waiting to me shed? Is this why you feel so heavy sometimes, like you haven't cried in a while and you really need to?
2. Why do we have feelings? Emotional feelings, I mean. How does this feeling take place? Where do feelings come from, and where do they go when you forget about them for a while? How do you make the connection between a good thing and a good feeling in yourself? Pain, hunger, etc is easy enough to comprehend, because it has evolutionary and survival value. But what about jealousy? How does your body make the connection with something so abstract?
3. What is a thought? How exactly are opinions and memories stored? I understand the parts of the brains involved and so on, but I don't get how something abstract is stored in a physical location. Kind of like typing on a keyboard and letters coming up on the screen. It's basically the sort of stuff that you can't explain to your grandparents.
4. Why do people feel the need to explain Australian-ness to me? Why do they feel the need to say, 'Well, I'm Australian and this is how/what we say/do?' When you raise the point with them they get very defensive about their racist tendencies, or their white privilege, but their actions are very hard to ignore.
5. Why do people feel the need to look at me, say sorry, and then continue to say something very racist? Does prefacing it with an apology absolve them of their sins? Basically, why are people so sh*t?
This took a downwards turn, so I might stop for a bit. As important as it is to express strong feelings, the majority of mine seem to be angry on a massive scale. I don't want my sense of self to be tied to this. Deep breath.
Peace and love,
S.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Finding my way.
I'm trying to write more often when I'm happy, so that it feels more real and also so I have record of this happiness.
The summer holidays at the end of first year were kind of stressful. I didn't do much and just felt weirdly depressed all of the time. I was apprehensive about starting another year of med like that, but alhamdulillah, things have improved massively. Sometimes it's not about life working out, but about reminding yourself of all of the good already in it.
My new housemates are basically awesome. My room has a view of the lights across town so at night it's like the stars have doubled. And it's easier to be happy.
Not that anything has drastically changed - apart from less time around the toxicity of last year - but I feel good. Not that I don't have bad moments - but they are easier to forget. There are times when I'm around old friends and it feels like being around a frenemy. But it's no more than I deserve, considering how miserable and grumpy I am in general. Insha'allah that one will sort itself out as well.
The aim for this year is to be less intimidating and more nice, and so far, it's going okay. Slow, but okay.
The most important lesson from the last year is tawakkul 'alallah - trust in Allah, that it will be okay no matter how bad it seems, and that there is a reason for everything and that every problem has a solution. It has helped me calm down in the face of set backs and know that it's not the end of the world if I fail a test or have a problem with someone. It's not the same as not caring and not stressing - because I still care, I just don't get as wound up about it. Less panic, more action.
I am amazed (woops I wrote that as 'I am amazing' lol) over and over again at how much better my life is. The phrase that keeps going through my head is 'good things come to those who wait' - and I thank Allah every time the reality of my good fortune hits me. As with tawakkul, it's a little phrase that holds a lot of meaning and is worded perfectly enough to hit home every time.
Home is a good place.
Peace and love
S.
The summer holidays at the end of first year were kind of stressful. I didn't do much and just felt weirdly depressed all of the time. I was apprehensive about starting another year of med like that, but alhamdulillah, things have improved massively. Sometimes it's not about life working out, but about reminding yourself of all of the good already in it.
My new housemates are basically awesome. My room has a view of the lights across town so at night it's like the stars have doubled. And it's easier to be happy.
Not that anything has drastically changed - apart from less time around the toxicity of last year - but I feel good. Not that I don't have bad moments - but they are easier to forget. There are times when I'm around old friends and it feels like being around a frenemy. But it's no more than I deserve, considering how miserable and grumpy I am in general. Insha'allah that one will sort itself out as well.
The aim for this year is to be less intimidating and more nice, and so far, it's going okay. Slow, but okay.
The most important lesson from the last year is tawakkul 'alallah - trust in Allah, that it will be okay no matter how bad it seems, and that there is a reason for everything and that every problem has a solution. It has helped me calm down in the face of set backs and know that it's not the end of the world if I fail a test or have a problem with someone. It's not the same as not caring and not stressing - because I still care, I just don't get as wound up about it. Less panic, more action.
I am amazed (woops I wrote that as 'I am amazing' lol) over and over again at how much better my life is. The phrase that keeps going through my head is 'good things come to those who wait' - and I thank Allah every time the reality of my good fortune hits me. As with tawakkul, it's a little phrase that holds a lot of meaning and is worded perfectly enough to hit home every time.
Home is a good place.
Peace and love
S.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Seven Hundred and Eleven Words of Whinging.
I know I start a lot of my blog posts with the 'I meant to update earlier but somehow didn't' sentiment, and I have come to realise that this is just another manifestation of what is wrong with my life.
I make plans and lose track of where I'm going or what to do to get there.
But it's okay, because it's a new year, and therefore an opportunity for a new adventure.
Well, I say that, but what I actually mean is I'm getting tired of muddling along and not really getting anywhere.
In Freudian theory, discord between what you are and what you want to be gives rise to psychological and emotional problems, and once again, I am a textbook example of a common problem. Aged 14, I had grand plans to travel the world, marry Daniel Radcliffe (after he converted of his own accord, of course), go to an Oxbridge university, and just be an amazing person. I was going to be supreme empress of the universe and the world was going to be great place with no pollution and lots of dolphins.
Ten years later, life has worked out in a roundabout way so that I am at least studying medicine and living out of home, if not at Oxford or in Spain. I suppose 10 years isn't that long, in the scheme of things, to achieve a life goal, but I can't help feeling like I've been a very passive part of the process. I somehow forgot to make anything happen. I didn't study hard in undergrad to get into med (I don't think I ever really expected to get in, I just had this image of me leading Medicines Sans Frontier to save the world with an adoring crowd and massive posters of my face everywhere). I didn't do much extracurricular stuff to help my development. I didn't properly try to get into med, and there's no way I would have without the sincerest prayers of my grandparents.
Not that I'm not happy to be here - it hits me every now and again that one day I will have a solid understanding of something amazing. It's a privilege and an honour to be trusted with someone's health, and to have all of the resources and opportunities in the world at your fingertips.
But the idea of myself at 14, an activist and a humanitarian, has crumbled a bit in the intervening period. I haven't eradicated poverty or corruption or AIDs or cancer. I don't speak a million languages. I am not a leader (I'm less of a leader now than I was at my most passive moment in school). I haven't run a marathon. I don't have prize-winning paintings hanging in the Louvre. I haven't solved any of the great mysteries of the ancient world (sometimes I can't sleep because I don't understand how the pyramids were built). My writing isn't being used as teaching material in High Level IB English.
This discrepancy between what I was and wanted to be, and what I have turned out to be now - it's what holds me back from fixing my situation. I spend all of this time dreaming and reminiscing and saying 'I totally could have' and then I realise that I've just wasted another year I could have used wisely. It's a vicious loop and I know the reason I can't get out of it is because my ego is too big to accept that I failed, and to move on.
Of course, this is the perfect opportunity to learn humility. To accept and be happy about the fact that I can do my best and that my best is good enough. Instead, I make a half-assed, panicked attempt and then try to justify my failure by making excuses.
Finally writing about this instead of just whinging to friends is a lot more productive, and a relief. I can be more methodical and see where I'm just bullsh**ing. Once you pinpoint a problem you can focus on fixing it. From where I stand now, I need to quit complaining and start doing.
And with that note, I am off to write some world-class poetry on the subject of my angst.
Peace and love,
S.
I make plans and lose track of where I'm going or what to do to get there.
But it's okay, because it's a new year, and therefore an opportunity for a new adventure.
Well, I say that, but what I actually mean is I'm getting tired of muddling along and not really getting anywhere.
In Freudian theory, discord between what you are and what you want to be gives rise to psychological and emotional problems, and once again, I am a textbook example of a common problem. Aged 14, I had grand plans to travel the world, marry Daniel Radcliffe (after he converted of his own accord, of course), go to an Oxbridge university, and just be an amazing person. I was going to be supreme empress of the universe and the world was going to be great place with no pollution and lots of dolphins.
Ten years later, life has worked out in a roundabout way so that I am at least studying medicine and living out of home, if not at Oxford or in Spain. I suppose 10 years isn't that long, in the scheme of things, to achieve a life goal, but I can't help feeling like I've been a very passive part of the process. I somehow forgot to make anything happen. I didn't study hard in undergrad to get into med (I don't think I ever really expected to get in, I just had this image of me leading Medicines Sans Frontier to save the world with an adoring crowd and massive posters of my face everywhere). I didn't do much extracurricular stuff to help my development. I didn't properly try to get into med, and there's no way I would have without the sincerest prayers of my grandparents.
Not that I'm not happy to be here - it hits me every now and again that one day I will have a solid understanding of something amazing. It's a privilege and an honour to be trusted with someone's health, and to have all of the resources and opportunities in the world at your fingertips.
But the idea of myself at 14, an activist and a humanitarian, has crumbled a bit in the intervening period. I haven't eradicated poverty or corruption or AIDs or cancer. I don't speak a million languages. I am not a leader (I'm less of a leader now than I was at my most passive moment in school). I haven't run a marathon. I don't have prize-winning paintings hanging in the Louvre. I haven't solved any of the great mysteries of the ancient world (sometimes I can't sleep because I don't understand how the pyramids were built). My writing isn't being used as teaching material in High Level IB English.
This discrepancy between what I was and wanted to be, and what I have turned out to be now - it's what holds me back from fixing my situation. I spend all of this time dreaming and reminiscing and saying 'I totally could have' and then I realise that I've just wasted another year I could have used wisely. It's a vicious loop and I know the reason I can't get out of it is because my ego is too big to accept that I failed, and to move on.
Of course, this is the perfect opportunity to learn humility. To accept and be happy about the fact that I can do my best and that my best is good enough. Instead, I make a half-assed, panicked attempt and then try to justify my failure by making excuses.
Finally writing about this instead of just whinging to friends is a lot more productive, and a relief. I can be more methodical and see where I'm just bullsh**ing. Once you pinpoint a problem you can focus on fixing it. From where I stand now, I need to quit complaining and start doing.
And with that note, I am off to write some world-class poetry on the subject of my angst.
Peace and love,
S.
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