On my drive hone this evening I was quite proud of myself for finishing up some paper work a week ahead of schedule that included my CV, which is sometimes fun to see what I’ve done captured on a piece of paper. I also bought a new outfit for a swing dancing weekend I’m going to this weekend. I NEVER go shopping because I have body issues and hate to spend money. I was proud of myself for having the motivation to find a new outfit because that means I was taking enough pride in myself to buy some new clothes. Also, I gave one of the nurses an OMT treatment. Believe it or not, with all my ranting, I was very insecure about my treatments, but now I’m feeling confident that I can make a change. I might not completely cure someone. I’m not Yoda, but I can help. So, I was feeling pretty good.
Now, I feel sick and nauseated from this incessant guilt that plagues me. I read my school’s electronic monthly newsletter this evening. The student profiles are supposed to inspire us (I guess): the trials an tribulations of various students before coming to medical school, what brought them to UNECOM and what they’ve done while here. There were also sections where my classmates described their rotations and provided tips for the second year students. I thought they would be nice ways to hear about classmates I have not kept in touch. However, I found myself feeling disgusted with myself: my horrible antagonistic attitude at times, my lack of discipline to study, my enjoyment of an easy surgery rotation.
I constantly feel like I do not live up to my full potential. I wanted to give swing dance lessons to my classmates during our first 2 years, but I didn’t because this awful dread overcame me, “What if no one comes? What if they make fun of me? I’m so embarrassed I don’t have a boyfriend/husband to teach with me. I should have competed before coming to medical school. Then I’d be proud of myself.” I SHOULD be proud of what I did with the UNH Swing Club. It is still going strong and I helped it for 3-4 years, including putting on a spectacular dance that I used as my “proudest accomplishment” for an essay.
That is just an example of how I feel: I get an idea or a desire and may not follow through, letting myself down even if no one else knows or cares. What an awful place to be. I’m starting to settle into who I am and accepting my limitations. Then again, Richard Bach said in Illusions, “Argue for your limitations and sure enough, their yours.” Then why do I have so much FEAR and HATRED for myself??!!! I think I just need some sleep, despite a cushy surgery rotation…