Post-Failure Processing, Part I

I got feedback on an OSCE station (which I failed) with the words 'Was anxious, asked for water, etc.'

At first I was like what??? and then I was sad and then I got angry because how tf is that adequate feedback and now I've eaten 6 mangoes since last night and now it's just funny.

Life is weird like that. You go through the ups and downs and as long as you're present for each peak and trough, you can step back and see the ocean and not the just the undercurrent you thought was personally targeting you. You see the gentle rocking of this dynamic cocoon, and you see how it carries you when you float, and helps you move and supports your weight including your heavy heart and leaden brain.

I hope I'm learning something.

Peace and love,

S.

I want to write again.

I want to write poetry and philosophise and draw breathtaking conclusions from life's simplest facts. I am out of practise, as noted by whoever marked my last reflective journal for med school, but I think I am ready to start becoming more...just more, I guess. Kind of like the muchness that the Mad Hatter talks about in Alice in Wonderland (not sure it it's just in the recent movie or the book as well, it's been so long since I read it).

I want my life to be more.

Peace and love,

S.

Baby Elephants and BAMFs.

I found out that I failed the year I have just repeated. I would have needed a 45 to qualify for re-sits but I managed a 44. Disappointing.

The grief and disappointment comes in waves, a new panic each time. Deep breaths and distractions.

I know that Allah (swt) has a plan, nothing happens without a reason, and I'm trying to accept the truth instead of dwelling on it or getting angry (although there's a certain amount of healthy anger in the grieving process). It's difficult not to be frustrated by what looks like a lack of progress. And also the bizarre lack of avenues for help. It's like the School has put all of it's shields up and armed the muskets in case someone gets close.

I want to be a baby elephant in the muddy planes of somewhere in Africa's heart. I want to flop into the mud and refuse to get up and I want the herd to come and pick me up and then we play in the clean river and and everyone hurrumphs, laughing and joyous.

I am so grateful to everyone who has shown me the smallest kindness. I don't think people realise how much those little things mean. I'm getting a bit teary thinking about all of the sweetest, kindest, most generous people in my life.

I often have moments of aching realisation that I don't really have friends. But not having a best friend doesn't mean that the beautiful souls I have met are any less special, and I know that they will genuinely want to help me and be friends. I think the fact that these generous and open-hearted people are friends with everyone kind of makes me feel like I'm only in their friendship group because they are kind to everyone they come across, but then again, I won't be looking this gift horse in the mouth.

You are what you do often, and if you are around good people who do good things, their goodness will rub off on you and some day or night in the future, you will be just as bright as your favourite star in the sky.
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Okay I had to take a break to cry because someone sent me a nice message and is just so lovely (she was head of division for this first aid thing I volunteered at in G-town). I think that's happened a couple of times this year - crying because someone was nice. I don't know why we don't all do it more often. There is so much good in the world, behind the big blobs of despair. And I maintain that tears are good for your skin. Pretty sure the only reason I didn't have teenage skin issues was because I cried daily.

Skyped with an amazing friend who is the most self-less person I have ever met. This whisper of wishes in my head keeps wanting her to convert to Islam so we can be in Paradise together. She is such an amazing person, with the biggest heart. She deserves everything good.

So really, my life is not so bad. Being a muddy baby elephant with a herd I can call mine would be lovely. But then I wouldn't have met all of these bamfs. Alhamdulillah for every blessing.

Peace and love,

S.

STAND AND DELIVER - THE WHITE MAN SAYS SO.

So I got a call asking if I wanted to do some market research, said yes as long as it doesn't involve alcohol (non-halal stuff) and the bright young spark on the other side of the phone launched into a quite abrasive way of asking questions about Islam like 'Did you as a female choose to be Muslim because your religion is so misogynistic etc'. 

Credit to him for actually asking and listening to the answers, and sometimes trying to be polite about it (actually zero times), and 15minutes in I tried to give him an easy out because I had corrected every single piece of garbage 'knowledge' he had spewed and didn't want to make it him feel more awkward or shallow so I asked him how old he is (21) and what he was studying (some combination of economics and law) and I was like oh yeah my cousin is studying law - and then - wait for it - the misogynistic tapeworm automatically assumed the cousin is a guy. His brain would have imploded if he found out that my mother qualified as a doctor twice, with the second one being in her 3rd (4th?) language and simultaneously dealing with 5 children. 

I got all of the horrible questions - beheadings, deliberately dying as a martyr, polygamy (this was a good one - 'we are animal and we're not designed to be with one person for life, we're supposed to SPREAD OUT SEED, but having casual sex partners is okay and different to a woman allowing her husband to add a second wife for whom he's has to provide for equally etc. is wrong') and lots of "I haven't read the Quran but I watched this documentary and it was really good and the I read the Quran (?but you said you haven't??) says women are inferior" and it went on and on and on in this vein. 

And he had actually just called to ask if I'd like like to taste test some lemonade for their research group. Like, WHAT THE ACTUAL FCK??? I couldn't remember a single scholar to recommend watching on youtube because there I was enjoying my mature cheddar and BAM! STAND AND DEFEND YOUR INDIVIDUAL IDENTITY AS WELL AS THOSE OF 1.7 BILLION OTHERS BECAUSE THIS 21YO MALE HAS WATCHED A DOCUMENTARY THAT SHOWED THAT MOST MUSLIMS ARE JUST HUMANS.

And all I had wanted to do was take a lunch break and eat my mature cheddar. 

S.

PS I'm not as angry as this post may suggest, but he interrupted my cheese time. Luckily mum called soon after to tell me she loves me and how I was such a good little girl back in the day. Nothing quite like praise from someone you love to perk you up again :) Also, he's not going to learn if he doesn't ask questions, and only God knows the many and varied silly things I've said and done out of pure ignorance. I'm glad if I can be the person to pull someone over to the light, and I would like documented credit to me if this interaction contributes to his learning or broadening of his mind in some way.

S.

Even lateral movement is still movement.

Sometimes you catch yourself routinely watering a dead plant over and over again, like there is some hope that are is some tiny part of the plant is alive deep down, and this tiny part will come out and eventually bloom. I’ve been doing this lately for a fern given out as wedding favours at the wedding of a dear friend, so this anecdote can stop here and be literal, told as a joke.  

But I have many feelings that keep wanting to come out, so there is more. 

I guess that desperate hope is what I find when I keep trying to manage stress and sadness and fears and obesity. I keep plugging away and going through the motions in the hope that there exists a tiny healthy bright part of me that will make it all worth it. Often when you try really hard, your only consolation is that you tried at all. I desperately want to bet better, but maybe what counts - and what really gives value to my person and my life - is the fact that i’m chipping away at this mountain, even if all i have is a butter knife (which i admit i only use to put the right about of hummus on my wafer crackers).

Peace and love,

S.

You want rewiring done right, you have to do it yourself.

I have more feelings to share and it's one of these things that fill in some small part of your heart/soul and it's not a huge stride but it is a shuffle forward. This piece will one day be fleshed out into the most revolutionary of all political compendiums, but here is the first draft.

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Learning to deal with new/current/old things using a new approach means you're literally rewiring your brain. The older you are, the harder it gets, not just because certain pathways have become very strong, but also because you don't necessarily have the means to hijack an existing network to link new thoughts and habits together to your core and growing new branches towards other dendrites takes ages. But you'll get there.

Learning to stay calm - to suppress and redirect the aspects of your flight/fight/freeze of your stress response - that's really tough and so, so, SO hard. But you can do it, because the next time you ask a older privileged white man about how to find a mentor and he immediately tells you that he understands what you're going through and that he has a a good friend who is Indian, you are able to actually say with polite words that 'yeah that's awesome, thank you for your business card, will totes come to you for career/life advice'. And you will do this without crying, or breaking the pen your holding, or literally slamming your head into a brick wall.

You will do this because this person's ignorance is not your fault or your enemy. Yeah, the three-year-old wants to shout NO, the teenager wants to roll her eyes, the young adult wants scream with the injustice of his misconception,. But you have disconnected the reactionary driver, and you deal with the situation with the default politeness you've been working on, and send a few thoughts down to the big processing centre to file away as 'brownie points for self-restraint'.

You are exposing old networks of anxiety and frustration to a pacifist's approach, teaching those high-strung neurones to reach for this new piece of golden nugget with soft hands and a softer heart.

Peace and love,

S.

Procrastination and the thoughts you have long after a conversation is over.

Okay, so I'm having trouble focusing on this assignment that's due soon, so I'm going tell you a story instead.

Back in the day, when I was young and yet to find a white hair on my head, this guy told me that the idea of paying zero interest on loans (interest is forbidden under shariah laws regarding business) is putting undue stress on the poorer people in society.

Wth, right?

I tried to explain it to him - it's not a difficult idea to understand, the fact that not charging interest on loans is in the best interest of those who have the least amount of money - and he responded with 'well I did a semester of economics at Melbourne Uni and you haven't studied any economics so I'm better qualified' (paraphrased) and I was like ???

In the naïveté of my youth and the profound sense of anger I feel at every injustice in the world, I got worked up about this silly person and his silly understanding of how exploitative interest is. In fact, I'm getting annoyed thinking about it right now. Why do I care so much about this incident, so many years on?

But that's not the point of the story.

The point is that I was young and silly and did not have the presence of mind to take a step back and try to understand where this guy's silliness came from. Here was a privileged white boy trying to tell me that my religion was wrong for making it easier for people of lower income to buy the same things as the 1%, and nothing I said was going to change his mind.

So why didn't I understand that people are funny and find it hard to let go of any idea that's comforting to them, regardless of how wrong it is? Kind of like how I know that lots of carbs aren't healthy but they make me so happy, and telling me that carbs are bad isn't going to make me happy or change the eating habits of an obese generation. Change doesn't come from arguing with an idiot, and, if you're a more benevolent person than me, you won't label the idiot in the first place.

Change comes from your own insight and subsequent actions that may help others achieve insight as well. Not that you can predict or direct insight. Some of the brightest people you know will have the least insight into their own selves and behaviours. It's not something that's dependent on intelligence or knowledge or how nice you think you are/try to be. I guess it's a mixture of life and luck - you happen to be in a particular situation or mood and the right particles collide to set off flashes in your brain and for a split second you GET it. Hopefully you can hold on to that glimpse into the workings of the universe, but if you don't, don't stress, because it gets easier the more you open yourself up to it.

I feel like I was trying to tell you something really profound and also take a passive aggressive dig at the guy who annoyed me (obviously I posted something on fb and he messaged to say sorry and i was like 'nah it's cool i would have told you if i had a problem with you'- a complete lie, btw) and I haven't quite done the first bit. What I have done, though, is put off working on this assignment.

Back to it, I guess.

Peace and love,

S.

Two thoughts collide.

I had this weird moment of realisation last night, on walking into the house.

On my short drive home I was having an imaginary conversation in my head, and I had a sudden flashback to when I was a teenager - I used to think that I was going through phases after all of my friends were done with that phase, like I was somehow lagging behind in emotional and social development.

And last night I was having this imagined conversation where I explain that mental illness stunts your growth, especially in terms of emotional maturity and insight. And this suddenly clicked - I was lagging behind my classmates in the phases teenagers/young people go through because I have had anxiety issues my whole life. My brain was (?is) being occupied by more than what it is normal for others, and my attention is being distorted by a constant and burning sense embarrassment and anxiousness in any and every situation.

It doesn't sound spectacular as I type this and try to think of better words to describe what happened, but suffice it to say that I had an unexpected and intense glimpse of insight into myself. It was one of those rare moments of connection and understanding of how life works, and being okay with it all.

Peace and love,
S.

Mid-20s can hit you like a wayward train.

Sometimes good things happen and sometimes bad things happen.

My problem has always been in the planning and foresight department. When something bad happens I forget that it will pass. I forget all good feelings and thoughts. And I just want the world to end. When good things happen, I forget that this, too, is transient. I forget about the problems I still have to deal with and the stressors that are coming up. I forget to work for my future. Despite all of this, I also forget to be in the moment, so the joy itself isn't appreciable either.

I received feedback on some ethics and law reflection journals and it was a real knock-me-down. The perfect reminder that I am not infallible, that I do not have a single thing that I am good at. I have always thought - perhaps wanted more than actually thought - that I can write and reflect well. This may have been the case some 10 years ago when I was still posting on my blog, which would be updated with teenage angst every second day. But I have stopped journaling and stopped writing for so long now, and it slipped my mind that things don't stay the same. Your talents don't grow or maintain themselves if you give no effort to them.

Today I find myself in a slightly melancholic state. I have glad that my friends will be interns next year, and yet I am so desperately sad that I will be alone as I go through the year and a half that remains. They have so many other friends, other supports and networks around them. But I have none and am unlikely to suddenly find any. I think the worst part is that I am always so desperately eager to make friends and hang out for the friends that I have, and it takes me by surprise when one of actually does something kind for me. I am used to driving the ~40minutes it takes to get to the library or friend's house but have never had the courage to ask anyone to do the same for me. So yesterday when a couple of them drove out of their way to pick me up, I was both embarrassed and bewildered. I don't know why I felt either these things. Surely, I understand by now that friendship is a two-way street? I think I am embarrassed by how desperately I want friends and kindness in my life. Especially given my entire friendship history - I was always the one who was keen to travel two hours to see high school friends and they were keen to travel two hours but not in my direction. Sad.

So I am proof that teenage angst does not doesn't not suddenly let go of its hold on you because you are not longer a teenager. I am jealous of my friends' friendships with each other, and I am insecure in my relationship with them. In some ways I don't feel worthy of their goodness, but I think there must be more it than that.

I think I'll leave this emotional word-vomit here and find a distraction.

Peace and love,

S.

Tea time, no punctuation.

I want to drink black tea and write poetry about how it reflects the depth of my soul but really it’s just dark liquid that will stain a page but not your heart and the bitterness you relish when it’s warm turns stagnant before you’ve reached the bottom of the mug.