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.

Hermit

Like a little hermit crab
In a little hermit shell
I carry my world
On my shoulders
And as the ocean crashes in
I retreat into my little hermit home
And find peace
In my little hermit head

S.

May

May the homeward-bound
rest their feet,
and their souls
find peace.

May the ink that writes
never dry unwritten,
and if the pages are found
their secrets are unhidden.

May your heart keep beating
even as you die,
and remind you
that you once were alive.

S.

That feeling of brittleness but in your face and heart.

I saw my GP today and he said that I was looking much better and more confident today than several months ago, and I nearly started crying again. I held it together, mostly I just didn't want to contradict or disappoint him, but perhaps also because he deserves at least one session in which I don't bawl my eyes out because I'm so stressed.

So instead I told him that I was worried that I have pernicious anaemia and either lupus or rheumatoid arthritis. He agreed to a blood test to help alleviate some stress. Bless him. But I still want to cry.

Sometimes life seems okay as you float by on a superficial level, but then you stop and think for a second and you realise that you are still in this grey, muddy pit and you have just been trying to delude yourself into thinking you see colour in the hole that keeps pulling you in.

I often find myself telling people that I'm just stressed about uni, assignments, etc. but in reality, I don't feel anything except for numb and miserable at the same time. Yeah, I'm stressed about uni and how behind I am, but what's the point in stressing about something you don't think you have the power to change? The reasonable part of your brain tells you that stresses will always be there, but that they don't have to affect you so awfully. Then reality suggests that perhaps there is no hope and therefore no point in stressing, and this stresses you out more but without knowing exactly why you're stressed.

I'm not sure where I'm going with any of this (as ever). The point is that he was super nice and thought I was doing better than I think I am, and I feel so awful for disappointing him with both the not feeling great and with the cliched med student/annoying know-it-all patient who thinks they know what's happening.

Plus I haven't been sleeping well lately (keep waking up like 7 times a night) and the lack of sleep is making me feel weepy. Gah. I'm such a cliche.

Peace and love,

S.

Caffeine to bring you up, happy thoughts to keep you there.

Sometimes I am struck (and paralysed) by how awkward I am, but then I drink coffee and the caffeine doesn't care about small talk or funny looks, just how much happiness and wonder is in the world around me.

Obvs the coffee doesn't fix anything, people still think I'm either weird or unapproachable, but at least my inside perfectly correlates with my outside, you know? I like the idea of being an authentic person, no lying to myself regardless of what others think. Of course I want to be a decent person, but what is the point of being a good person on the outside only to have a mess of hypocrisy underneath it all?

I'm pretty sure it's the caffeine talking now, but sometimes life is superb, once you remove yourself form the littleness of your immediate surroundings/situation and connect with life and the universe on a happier wavelength. For example, I just came back from ward rounds then coffee with the ortho team (interns and registrars) and the other med student was chatting away with them and they were responding to her and ignoring me, but do I need the approval of those people in that moment? It's okay to have nothing to say, and if my aim in life is to be a decent person to interact with, not having funny stories to tell doesn't really mean much, does it? I can still be easy-going in my interactions with people and not get in their way. They won't like me in the way they like the other med student, but I'm also not offending anyone, and eventually I will find my niche.

That sounds a bit sad, but I have so many moments in my life where I connect with people or situations and everything in life seems to be dancing to the same harmony and that's a beautiful feeling, like tapping into the fundamental frequency of the universe and seeing the perfection of every object and movement in relation to the rest.

I will worry about my awkwardness and lack of approval from others later when I'm feeling down. No need to spoil this high with stressing about what I can't change, and to some extent, don't have any need to change.

Peace and love,

S.

The answer to your midnight existential crisis is always 'there is no point'.

I just came back from an ortho tute at the hospital, where I literally knew nothing.

I almost got away with saying and knowing nothing, until the end where the consultant noted that I hadn't contributed. I was supposed to do an ulnar nerve examination, and I'm not going to lie, I couldn't remember anything about the ulnar nerve, including where it runs or what it is. He was cool about it and I fluffed around a bit (which always looks so much worse than straight-out saying 'I don't know'). And then I didn't understand what he was explaining either.

I think I felt the need to pretend that I knew what I was doing because everyone else knew the answer to every question the consultant had asked/has ever asked and I don't want to give away how stupid or slack I am, even thought it's the truth. I don't even know why I'm so slack or why I don't remember anything I learn.

Anyway, point is, I nearly cried in tute, and I sort of got teary on the way home, and I'm struggling not to cry now.

And this is not what I want my life to be.

TD has pointed out a few times that happiness doesn't last, just like any other feeling, and I know this now and I knew it before she said it, but the problem is that I don't want my lows to be so very low and I don't want to be sad for so much of my life.

On the way out of the tute, I was already contemplating ways to quit med or alternative careers or what I'm going to say to people once I've failed this year.

I go straight to catastrophising every thing that goes wrong, and I can't stop because things have been bad for so long that there's no way anything good can happen ever again.

(See what I mean?)

Sometimes, in the imaginary conversations in my head with imaginary people I will never come across (their faces are of the people who I know now since I can't actually imagine them), these people observe that I seem very depressed, and my response is, 'How can you not be?' and this makes me feel more sad because it's true. How can you live in any form of society, seeing how terrible people can be, seeing the worst parts of yourself in everyone around you, and still find some level of contentment? How can you exist and not see the pointlessness of it all? You're born and you die and in the space in between you reproduce or contribute to society in some other way, and for what? What is the point? So your genes survive and the human race continues, but so what? What is this end point that we're running towards and what is the point of running to it and why does anyone care about anything? What is stopping everyone from just curling up in a corner and letting death take us?

When I'm feeling more positive, I say to these imaginary people that you're born and you die and the best you can hope for is some form of distraction in between to take your mind off the inevitable darkness that will come with death anyway, so there's no need to give in to it now. What stresses you out will eventually kill you, and life is pointless but if you want your death to hold meaning, find something worth worrying about and let that kill you instead.

Sometimes I try to compose poetry and pretend that the poetry of misery is the most profound song the universe can strive for. In 'Not Another Happy Ending' the main character is accused of worshipping her own pain, and I can see how I'm doing that to myself - trying to build my misery into a shining throne from which I can judge others and put my own ego on a pedestal.

I know the reasonable words but I don't feel them. Even when I say them to others, I'm just throwing out the buzzwords in an effort to maintain this facade of an intelligent and hard done by innocent, to somehow absolve myself of any responsibility for my own failures and weaknesses.

I wonder when it will end, and how it will feel to pay penance for the lies I tell myself.

S.

Procrastination and personality and problems.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Outlets and Disappointments

I think everyone needs a side-project to help them get on with life. A sort of outlet, something different to do, totally unrelated to work or study. I used to read a book a day, update my blog, paint and draw, and over the past couple of years I've found less and less time for it all. I started a vlog this year, a weekly update/summary of my life, and it was going well until the fiasco with my grandpapa's health etc. I keep meaning to get back into but for some reason I never do.

Which brings me to my main point: why is it that even though these things make me happy, and I know they make me happy, and I'm capable of doing them, I have so much trouble actually doing them? It's not like I can't find the time - I procrastinate enough to know that I can find time for any little distraction. So why do I spend so much of my time lying on bed or sitting on ebay getting frustrated and not enjoying any part of it? What sort of person willingly forgoes activities that make them happy when they have no excuse to do so?

I know a part of it is to do with my laziness. I'm not sure how accelerate my progress in this area. I know that I have improved over the years, that I have a system that seems to work for me, but it doesn't feel like enough. I know I shouldn't compare myself to others, but I literally have no excuse for not being at the same level as everyone else. I've had every opportunity to learn, a great upbringing and family life, the perfect genetic background (both of my parents are brilliant) and yet I'm such a disappointment. All promise and no delivery. And I'm so pretentious! Sadface. 

Okay I know I'm waffling here in order to put off listening to this lecture I missed. I'd much rather listen to Ed Sheeran and play Candy Crush and write bad poetry, but I have a test in four days. Adios!

Peace and love,

S.