It is 12:26 pm on August 14th, which means there are  exactly 1370 days, 4 hours, and 34 minutes until I become a real doctor.

Welcome to The Trouble With Crystal 2.0.

If you haven’t already guessed, my name is Crystal, and I am troubled.

Remember that song from West Side Story, when the Jets are poking fun of Officer Krupke?

The trouble is he’s crazy. 
The trouble is he drinks. 
The trouble is he’s lazy. 
The trouble is he stinks. 
The trouble is he’s growing. 
The trouble is he’s grown. 

Gee, Officer Krupke, 
Krup you! 

Well, what exactly is the trouble with Crystal?

I started blogging in 2009 as a way to find happiness again after my grandmother’s death. I took a break from blogging in 2010 once medical school applications started, and I found that I was doing more than enough introspection and writing with those essays. And, although I hate to admit it, it was also because I was afraid of what admissions officers might think if they found my blog. You might be wondering, what happened once medical school applications were over? In a word, laziness.

Now that I am starting a new school, a new academic path, and a new life, I am reviving my blog so that I can record all of my experiences and thoughts, and keep myself sane! Maybe someone out there will read something I write, and it will resonate with her, make her think in a different way, or make her laugh. Maybe someone out there will find my opinions not only objectionable but disgusting. If you are that person you can close your browser now.

I’m only kidding.

Maybe someone out there will disagree with me, leave a comment, and initiate a discussion that changes the way I think. But then again, maybe no one will read it except I, and even then these pages will serve their function as a place to organize my thoughts, respond to the good and the bad I find in the world, and freeze my feelings at a particular point in time so I can look back and ask myself, “what the hell was I thinking?” In bringing peace to my inner self, I can become a better person and do good in the world. It’s like meditating on paper.

——

Two days ago, I donned my short white coat – the symbol of a med student (as we progress in our training, our coats also become progressively longer) – and received my stethoscope. I am now officially a part of the medical profession, a doctor in training.

Classes start tomorrow, 8 am. I am predicting that I will be the first in the class to stop attending lecture and watch them all online. Orientation has firmly ingrained in my head that not only will I be slaving away for the next four years of medical school and three+ years of residency and fellowship, but also that I will be working 30+ years on my own before I will pay off my student debt. And meanwhile, my boyfriend makes the same as the median physician salary right out of college. Did I not say already that I was troubled?

I look forward to the start of my new life and also to many more posts on TTWC 2.0!

I can’t do this. Here I am, laying in bed next to him, trying express my annoyance. Amid his pleas of, “I’m sorry”, all I can think of is how your response would be to laugh and shower me with kisses because you think I’m cute when I’m pissed. My stomach turns, and I have to get out of bed to write this blog post in the middle of the night.

I was walking back home from class the other day, when I decided to call you. Last time, you called me just to chat, because you were feeling “blue”. We haven’t talked for a few weeks since then, but you weren’t glad to hear from me. Maybe you read my blog recently and found out that I’m dating someone else. Maybe that makes me a bad person, because I’m initiating contact with you while I’m taken.

But how do I stop comparing everything he does to you? (You usually win). How do I remove you from the pedestal in my mind, and appreciate people for their unique personalities? Am I just using him to feel more comfortable in your absence, like if I can’t have the one I love, then at least I can have someone who loves me? But that makes me feel so disgusted with myself…

And yes, (I’m sure this one will boost your ego). Sometimes, when we’re making love, I can’t help but play flashbacks of you in my mind. Even though I try to suppress it, you still sneak into my conscious and for a moment, all I sense is you; I see your face in front of me, feel your hands touching me, and your smell.. oh that smell.. a natural mixture of skin and pheromones that I have yet to encounter anywhere else. Why is it so hard with everyone else, but so easy with you?

A few years ago, I broke up with you because for some stupid reason, I was still obsessed with an ex-boyfriend. I was crying, but you told me it was ok, as long as I learned my lesson: not to let our past relationship hinder my relationships in the future. I guess I need to listen to you now, and continue my life without suffocating myself with our memories.

I love my white board. This blog is (almost) just like an electronic version of my white board. Ok, so I can’t draw organic chemistry molecules quite as easily, and people can’t pass by and doodle penises on it, but it’s pretty good at helping me to solve problems. I come to my white space with a puzzle, and start writing whatever is on my mind. By the end, no matter how roundabout, I’ve come (at least closer) to some sort of conclusion.

Many writers think that writing has to be about the end. Of course, we’ve all been trained to write that way in school, and for good reason. A professor would look dubiously on a thesis that presented its arguments haphazardly, and only reached a conclusion in the last paragraph. But not all writing is thesis writing. There is value in the thinking process. We all go through the thinking process, but we just don’t always record it for others to see.

I must admit that I have also fallen susceptible to focusing only on the ends. Sometimes when I write a post, I think and pre-write for a long time until I actually figure out what to say, then I delete everything write everything again in a logical and organized way. But I must remind myself of the purpose of this blogs. I’m not trying to convince anybody of anything. I’m trying to figure out my life for myself and share something of value to one or two people along the way.

Oh, I just caught myself doing it. Scrolling up to check if my previous paragraphs made sense. I pledge from now on in this entry to never use the scroll up button.

I guess this could be a metaphor for my life. I’m constantly trying to present myself as the final, mature, product, but the truth is that my life is like this empty wordpress space, still being filled and worked and reworked. I shouldn’t be embarassed or ashamed to make mistakes, appear immature, come off as less than perfect, because to do so is to assume something that I am not.

Take for example, a mentor, anybody – your boss, your professor, a professional in your aspiring field. I work with a doctor who just seems to be perfect; perfect job, perfect husband; perfect life. All I see is the perfect product, but how did she get from A to B? How do I get from me to her? It’s so intimidating, but if someone showed me the imperfections that occurred in her career then it wouldn’t be so bad. We work so hard to hide our imperfections – but we shouldn’t, because others can gain something valuable from them.

In fact, that is the whole premise of this blog. I know that I have a lot that I need to improve on. This blog was initiated because I made mistakes. I know that some people will judge me. I suspect that one day, the material will be used against me (job interview, med/grad school admission). But I’ve tried to be as open and sincere about everything because I believe that someone, somewhere, can learn from my experience.

Wow, this post started off as an entry about whiteboards, and ended up as a discussion of imperfection. Forgive me if my mind seemed to wander, because it did.

mood 6/ physical tiredness 5 /spiritual tiredness 4 -Pretty good mood today because I got a lot done and I started talking to my ex again. However, it is 3 am and I still don’t know what I’m going to do with my life, not to say, tomorrow.