xviii
prev.cont.I woke up in the hotel bed and was immediately annoyed with myself. What am I doing? It feels like I've unmade the decision I made yesterday, the one to drop out. I guess I'll keep going.
People say everything works out exactly like it’s supposed to. I just need to put my head down and keep going. Succumb to the rat race, put the retainer back on, contort myself into the necessary postures, and become a doctor.
I tried to run away from a good thing. An opportunity that people would kill for. I’m afraid of success and afraid of failure. I’m a lost cause. I’m the dumbest person to ever walk the earth. They should turn me into glue or something.
I need to finish the weird year. This is the task I’ve assigned myself, for no reason in particular, the task that I must complete for reasons I can’t (and don't need to) understand.
No one forced me to go to medical school. That was me. I decided to do it. I made the decision over and over in small ways until I was here. And now all I do is complain about it. Ungrateful much?
It would be an invitation for things to go wrong if I strayed from the path. If I drop out, I could never show my face in this town again. That’s not true, but it might be. Either way, this is the wrong time to be having second thoughts. If I continue to get in my own way, I’ll have to punish myself. No TV for a week or something. I won’t allow myself to disrupt my path, the one I chose.
Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to abandon my classmates. We started together, and we will finish together. My short time away has made me appreciate them more. They’re better than me. They can go about their days as normal. They’re in clinic, in class, at meetings, learning about themselves and each other and everyone and everything. I’m in the underground being a fool.
I want to learn things, too. I want to expand my mind through my studies and discipline. I do, don’t I?
Just like waking up from a dream, there are things I won’t be able to take with me when I return to the weird year. What is happening to me right now, and how can I interpret it so my above ground self can understand? Is all of this happening in my subconscious? Is that why I can’t find words for the feelings?
I’m doing this for the people who raised me to do good in this world. I’m smart enough to succeed in the rat race. I’m gonna be the best rat there ever was. The above ground has to accommodate me. I’m coming back.
exit