My Own Worst Enemy


Everything is crashing and my back is breaking. The weight of the world on my shoulders has become too much. I know I put this pressure on myself. I have chosen my career path. I want to be a doctor. I want one of the hardest things to achieve in academia. That has been my decision. I wish I could pick something else, but nothing else feels right. This is really what I want to do. I don’t understand why the world seems to be trying so hard to take it away from me. Today I found out I’m ineligible for half the medical schools I want to apply to, because I took the 6 credit series of organic chemistry and not the 8 credit. The pre-med adviser I met with basically dismissed me the second I walked into her office. According to her, I’m not good enough. I should just apply to PA school.

I can handle enormous amounts of stress. People ask exorbitant amounts of me and it doesn’t phase me. What I can’t handle is myself. The person who asks the most of me is me. The person who puts me under the most pressure is me. My Type A personality and upbringing has conditioned me to believe that I must succeed and I must be the best. I’m cracking under the weight of it all. That’s for damn sure. P makes it all worse. He never believed in me. He never though I would amount to anything. He wanted me to be a teacher, so I could be a proper homemaker and take care of the kids. That’s what he thought I was worth. Out of all the people I want to prove wrong, he is number one. I want him to hear about how awesome I am doing through the grapevine. I want him to hear about how I have a great life, career, relationship…a great everything.

He needs to feel regret. He needs to feel remorse. Why do I think that me becoming a doctor will make him feel that? I have no idea. I guess the sad truth is I still want to prove myself to him. His voice is still in my head, always taunting me. “You aren’t good enough. You will never be good enough.” I don’t know how to get rid of it. He still haunts me. The other night I had a bad dream about him. I woke up with three new scratches on my legs. He scares me so much that I dig my fingers into myself in my sleep. That is ridiculous. When does it end? Someone please just tell me when this ends…

Advertisements

One thought on “My Own Worst Enemy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s