i’m awake at five in the morning. i can’t sleep anymore. i don’t want anything to do with anything that is going on today.

i feel so defeated. i feel like they finally got me. i feel like i’m finally decompensating at this late stage in the game. i think this is where i slip back into depression. i’m teetering on the edge, and it’s a dangerous place to be, because i see the void down there. i remember what it’s like. i start imagining knives in my brain again. i start imagining knives cutting through organic materials.

i fucking hate myself in this moment. i hate that i managed to end up in this position, whatever this position even is. i feel hatred toward myself. how could i expect me to go do anything that i have signed myself up for? how is it not over yet? why can i not be done yet? why can’t i just be done? why did i do any of it? why couldn’t i just enjoy my life? why couldn’t i just fucking chill? why couldn’t i drop out of school when the opportunity was presenting itself? why why why why why why am i doing any of this? why?

the anhedonia, i feel it.

fuck psychiatry. this is fake. it’s not real. it’s not real, it’s not real, it’t’t’t’’t’t’t’s’’’s’s’s not real. i hate living in this country. i hate this place so much. i hate my brain right now. i hate what it’s making me think, how it’s making me ruminate on stupid bullshit and people. i hate it i hate it i hate it. i feel miserable. i feel unable. i feel unfit for any of the tasks laid out for me. i hate it all. i’m not interested in rising to any occasion. i don’t want to do it. in this moment, i don’t want to do it, and i don’t know how to push myself to keep going. how do i get through this day? how do i get through this day? i don’t want to do it. i feel unfit. i feel unfit. i feel incapable. i feel like i can’t do it. i feel like my confidence has actually been destroyed. i feel that it has been destroyed. i feel that i was doing okay until last night, and then it destroyed everything. it destroyed me, truly. it really destroyed me last night. it was so brutal. it was terrible. i hated being there. i hate-hated it. i hated it. i just hated it. i felt like i had been exposed. i felt like i had been cornered. i felt like i lost everything. i felt like i lost it all. i feel like i’m not safe there. i’m not safe there. iiiiiii just

i finally just cried about it. i need to cry about this shit so i can move on. can i just move on from it? can i please just move on?

i can’t stop prospecting.

i’m afraid depression is coming for me. i feel how it’s still inside my brain. it’s part of the circuitry, i’m afraid. it’s in there, and it’s ready for me as soon as i decide i’m ready for it. and i don’t have to even decide; it can come back in a moment. just like that, it can come back, and now it is back, and now i am fucking depressed again.

god ............ god. i need to drop out. i need to be done. i need to reach out to z— and say, “hey dude this whole thing is making me decompensate. i don’t know if i can go on. i frankly, truthfully don’t know if i can go on, at least for today. i don’t think i can do this shit any longer. i really think i’ve reached the end of my own rope. and the.... fucking.....”

fuck. i don’t know what to do. i don’t want to go to [neighborhood]. i don’t want to go to [other neighborhood]. i don’t have it in me.

the sad thing is i do have it in me, and i can tell that i will be able to do it, and i know how easy it all is, and that is part of the problem. it’s all so easy, and it makes me feel bad for feeling like i might need to say no to these things. all of it. i have to opt out as soon as possible, and it might be right now. as soon as possible might have already occurred. it might be occurring now. as soon as possible might just be right now.

i know it’s stupid. i know it’s stupid. no one would ever advise me to drop out and to get out of here and run away and never look back. no one would advise it. i’m sure people would strongly advise against it, but i fucking hate it here so much. even the fun things are now becoming extremely allostatic.

i don’t like it. i don’t like it. i don’t fucking like it. i want to be done. i don’t want to go to any of the meetings anymore. i don’t want to do anything at all. i can’t do it. i can’t do it. i don’t want to go to [neighborhood] and sit there as a psychiatrist talks to patients about how they’re mentally ill. i hate everything right now. i hate everything about everything. the food i’ve been eating: i hate that, too.

have i been depressed for longer than i’m aware, and am i a high-functioning depressed person, and has it been unknown even to myself? has it been unknown to myself? has it been unknown? did i lose my appetite a long time ago? did i lose my appetite a long time ago, and do i need to lift myself up and get out of his shit? do i need to get out? do i need to get out? do i need to get out. is there anything to get out of. is the container real or an illusion. is any of this real. have i lost my mind? have i finally become fully incoherent, even to myself? is it finally past a point of recognizability? is there anyone i could talk to about this who would understand? is there anything i can do? is there anything i can do.

i need to get out. this is not real. it’s all so not real. none of it is fucking real. i’m doing things that are out of alignment with my values, and it’s taking a toll. fuck this thing, dude. none of it is part of anything. none of it is part of any goddamn thing that i ever want to do on this earth. but they’re the only things i have to look forward to today. none of them are wanting to be done by me. i don’t want to do anything that is on the agenda for today. i would rather die???? i think i might actually rather end it here, suspend all of the disbelief, stop talking forever, be done, and be dead to these people and to the world. i can’t stand it. i can’t stand living in this country, i can’t stand any of the people anymore. i can’t stand any of it. i need the bubble to finally pop so i can feel validated. i need something to go horribly wrong so i can ..... i need it to go horribly wrong. i need it to go horribly wrong. can i please be done? can i be done.

the wise thing to do is to finish, ant. you gotta pick your head up and just fucking finish. you have done much harder things in the past, and when you tell yourself you can’t do these things, you’re going to make it feel more true than it really is. it’s not true that you can’t do it. it’s also not true that you have only these things to look forward to.

you can stay present the whole time. i promise, you can live your own way. you can march to your own beat, even if you have to go to things that are undesirable in order to follow through on the things you agreed to do. you will keep showing up, you will keep showing up, you will keep showing up. you will keep showing up. you will have done all of the work. you will have completed the course. you will have finished. it will be over. it will be over. it will be over. it will be over. it will naturally end. it will end in its own time. it will end quite naturally, in its own time, although none of this is anywhere near natural anymore. none of this is natural. all of these settings could not be more contrived. they couldn’t. i have a knack for getting to the people inside of the contrived settings, but it’s fucking tiring, and sometimes i feel like i can’t do it. right now, for example. i feel so incapable.

i think i’ve already talked past the feeling. i know i can do it, and i know all i have to do is one more month of this fucking bullshit. it’s one more month of bullshit, and then the real ending comes... one month ago, what was i doing? i was wrapping up the previous rotation. i thought i couldn’t get through the last of that, too, and then i did, and when i finished, i got myself a pizza and a coke, and i ate the whole thing, and i celebrated. and i celebrated.......... and it did end, and it all ended, and it all will end, this whole thing. it will all end, this will pass, this will pass, and it’s not going to take very long.

fuck all the people asking me what i’m doing after. fuck all of you, because you don’t know that there is still so much ridiculous bullshit to do before. stop making me think it’s over and that i already need to be thinking about the next thing. fucking stop. i fucking hate you. stop it right now. i still have to finish the rest of the bullshit. you have no idea how excruciating these days are. you have no idea how hard it is to finish something that you didn’t want to start in the first place. you have no idea. you have no idea how hard it’s going to be. you don’t know. you’re taking it for granted. you know not what you do, and sometimes i’d prefer if you would just leave me alone. can you do that, can you leave me alone? can you let me and my husband stick together?

i’m going to keep my friends who mean something to me. i’m keeping my friends, and i’m surrendering the rest of the bullshit. i need to let go of all of the bullshit. please, can you let me let go of all of it? can i let go, can i let go, can i let go, can i let go, can i be done, can it be over, can i ......

am i going to work today? the answer is yes, because i can, because it’s going to be okay, because it’s not a big deal, because today is the last day that will look like this, because we are in the last full week of this rotation, and it isn’t even a full week.

i hate the word rotation now. i hate that it’s part of the vocab. i hate that i have become so insufferable to myself. i can’t even suffer myself anymore. i hate the things that i’ve internalized. i’m not interested. i can’t do it, i won’t do it. i need freedom. i felt how freedom would feel the other day when i went up to the roof and felt the cold wind blowing. i felt how it would feel. i felt how it would feel to be free of school. it felt good, obviously. it feels better than i ever could’ve imagined as i was finishing up all the stupid bullshit involved in this degree.

fuck w– b– for telling me i can get through it. that is not encouragement; that is abuse. he should know better, but he doesn’t.

i feel like i’m spinning. i’m lying here like it’s my grave, and i’m spinning in it. i’m spinning in my own grave right now, going counterclockwise or something. fuck, who knows what way i’m spinning. i just know i am spinning, and it feels good, because at least it’s something new, and at least it’s better than school. get me out of here. i can’t do it anymore. it’s hurting me it’s hurting me it’s hurting me.

i opened my eyes and stopped spinning.

pop! i’m going to pop an aneurysm before this shit can even end, and i’m going to die before i’ve been able to take leave of this place. i’m going to have wasted so much time waiting for it to end, and then someone else is going to pull the trigger on it before i can end it of natural causes.

i need to stop writing now. thank you for listening. it made me feel better. the flow state is one thing that they can’t take away from me. they can prevent me from getting in it by making me show up to work and sit there for excruciating minutes with people who will never understand me, but in the off-time, in the off-hours, i can be in flow state, and they can’t take it from me.

this little headache in my left frontal lobe is.... idk where it’s coming from. it feels like a very specific focus. it feels like there is literally an aneurysm in there, and the blood pumps to it and pushes on stuff nearby. it’s going to pop soon, and i’ll be fucking dead, and that'll be all she wrote. i’ll have died while in fucking medical school, just like i always feared. i never learned that most important lesson of all, which is that you have to get out, you have to get out, you have to get out, ant, you have to fucking get out. you can’t do it anymore. i don’t trust you. i’m losing faith in you. i’m losing trust. i’m losing confidence. can you please get out? can you please not finish? just drop out. it’s not too late. you don’t want this degree anyway. you can drop out. you need to drop out. it has to end. you have to be done. it has to be over. none of this is real. you have to go find the real again.

but i’m not going to do that, am i? even as i speak so authoritatively on this matter, i know, still, i’m not going to do it. i know. i know. i know that i’m going to work today, and i’m going to rehearsal, and i’m doing all this ridiculous bullshit. i’m going to keep doing it, aren’t i? i’m not going to drop everything and leave and go somewhere else, am i? why not? why don’t i just do that? why not drop everything and fucking leave? can i do that? is that okay? is that right? can i do it? can i fucking do it? hello? this is a question i’m asking. if i were to drive away right now, if i were to get in my car and drive somewhere far away where i don’t know anyone and i can let myself just be done, i can let myself be fucking done, what will happen? i would like to imagine the phone call from x— this evening at 8:10: “where are you? you’re supposed to be here.” and i wouldn’t pick up, and i would let everyone down. how beautiful it would be to let everyone down today. that sounds pretty good to me. i would like to let people down today. i want to let down the psych team, and i want to let down x—. i want to be done. i want to let them down.

i feel my stomach asking me for food. it makes me.............. there is no motivation to eat anything in my household right now, but i will get back into cooking. i swear i will.

i hate mondays. mondays are the worst. this is likely going to be the worst monday in recent memory, perhaps one of the worst mondays of med school ever, but i suppose things will surprise me. i’m going to be open to the surprises, things being awesome. fuck it. i’m sure they will be. i’m sure it will invigorate me again. fuck this shit.

i’m sure everything today is going to be better than i’m anticipating right now, because that’s how life works: it keeps surprising you and keeps you coming back. it really keeps you coming back. it keeps you coming back. i can be honest with g— this morning and say, “i’m really burnt out at the moment. i don’t know if i can do it today. i’m getting closer to the end and feeling like i’m losing my will to do it. i’m not sure if i can go through even one more day of this shit. but i still showed up, and i’m still here, so, ma’am, if you ask me how i’m doing, i will tell you the truth, and that is that i’m feeling really atrocious, actually. point blank, i feel bad today. i’m not feeling good. i don’t like being in school. i’m feeling bad. i’m feeling like depression is going to creep back up in me, and i have to stay strong." i have to stay strong. i have to stay strong.

i’m ready to be done writing and let myself fall asleep, or maybe not. maybe i still have insomnia, and maybe i can’t fucking sleep.

i shouldn’t have had that clif bar before bed, and i shouldn’t have smoked, and i shouldn’t have enrolled in med school. shouldn’t shouldn’t shouldn’t. should’ve just studied what i liked in college instead of what was making me miserable.