I'm sad, I've been sad for quite a while. Not the transient fleeting sadness but the engulfing darkness.
I've never been sad. I've always been embittered and disappointed at the human race, but not sad at all.
I spent the last three years of my life trying to convince myself that I love medicine, that medical school is the one for me and that this is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. The more time I spend here the more I realize how wrong I am.
The ability to succeed at something doesn't determine one's acceptance of it.
When I arrived at university I didn't know where to enrol. So I applied at the faculty with the earliest date: Medicine. And to my great surprise I was accepted! Who would've thought?
Medicine. At the moment I didn't mind anything. I just wanted a lead, a sign, something or someone to point me to the way. I was afraid of being lost.
Now I'm afraid of squandering my life. I never had a reason to enrol in this faculty. This isn't where I belong or where I want to be. I'm afraid of leaving and not finding a new lead, and of staying while knowing that i don't belong here.
I love you all.
Hamlet. Act III, Scene I.
"Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,"