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So, back in the days of sincere blogging efforts (I'm old), I used to write an annual post entitled "Why We're Not Going to Kill Ourselves This Year." I was an emotional poetry major and each year as dark weather hit I wrote it mostly for me, but, you know, also for the community.
People loved those damn posts. I'd reel off lists of inspirational thoughts or a full page of alternative ideas to killing ourselves, healthy living tips and general encouragement. I guess it worked, because no one killed themselves those years. But it was pretty sad, because year after year I'd find my friends and me back in the depths of the despair, and then I'd have to write another post.
Years flash by and I don't blog anymore. I went ahead and got actual therapy and started practicing Zen and went back to school and now I'll be going to medical school in August (hooray! ) so things are generally much better. For me.
But two days ago one of my old poetry buddies wrote me and very sadly, sweetly asked me if I would consider writing another one of those posts. For her.
I'll tell you what, as a former writer and future doctor ("I wanna helllllllllp people!"), I was in HOG HEAVEN. I wrote for two days straight. I didn't shower. I barely ate. THIS IS LIVING. Half a dozen drafts later, I had something written down, a set of ideas compiled from all the psychiatry and other forms of therapy I'd received. I felt like it was as kind and as true as I could make it. And it basically said, "You can't run from this pain, you can only learn what it has to teach you."
A couple years ago, I had a Zen sensei who was a former psychiatrist. I asked him if he regretted anything from his medical career and he said, "No. Well. Except. I wish I'd not tried so hard. I wish I'd let people do their own healing."
Everything I have learned through hard pain and despair has come down to that. There's no other way through our own excuses and sadness, no matter how unfair they may be.
So I posted this thing my friend asked me to write, this writing that took me the better part of four years--essentially--to be able to conceive. And my friend wrote back, "Ah. Yes. That is beautiful. Feel the feelings. Thank you. I'm feeling a bit fragile right now but that's very nice of you."
.........
What's on my mind right now are all my doctor friends who have spent those long hard years becoming doctors and are now so burnt out. All of them talk about how hard they worked only to be ignored by pill-popping patients who do not want to be told to eat right and exercise. They talk about having to give medications that won't help in order to avoid being sued over the care the patient thinks he deserves. Hell, I watch people lose their minds with frustration over other people's self-pity right here in pre-allo.
I know my friend wanted the usual list of helpful breathing exercises when she wrote me. And there's nothing wrong with helpful breathing exercises. But after all this work and time, that's not what I want to offer right now.
I feel nonplussed, is what I'm saying. I feel my future.
I was wondering if this future worries any of you too, if you've had thoughts about this. Do you have ideas for how your career won't end up just being a really expensive speed bump on other people's highway to heck?
Would love to hear your thoughts.
People loved those damn posts. I'd reel off lists of inspirational thoughts or a full page of alternative ideas to killing ourselves, healthy living tips and general encouragement. I guess it worked, because no one killed themselves those years. But it was pretty sad, because year after year I'd find my friends and me back in the depths of the despair, and then I'd have to write another post.
Years flash by and I don't blog anymore. I went ahead and got actual therapy and started practicing Zen and went back to school and now I'll be going to medical school in August (hooray! ) so things are generally much better. For me.
But two days ago one of my old poetry buddies wrote me and very sadly, sweetly asked me if I would consider writing another one of those posts. For her.
I'll tell you what, as a former writer and future doctor ("I wanna helllllllllp people!"), I was in HOG HEAVEN. I wrote for two days straight. I didn't shower. I barely ate. THIS IS LIVING. Half a dozen drafts later, I had something written down, a set of ideas compiled from all the psychiatry and other forms of therapy I'd received. I felt like it was as kind and as true as I could make it. And it basically said, "You can't run from this pain, you can only learn what it has to teach you."
A couple years ago, I had a Zen sensei who was a former psychiatrist. I asked him if he regretted anything from his medical career and he said, "No. Well. Except. I wish I'd not tried so hard. I wish I'd let people do their own healing."
Everything I have learned through hard pain and despair has come down to that. There's no other way through our own excuses and sadness, no matter how unfair they may be.
So I posted this thing my friend asked me to write, this writing that took me the better part of four years--essentially--to be able to conceive. And my friend wrote back, "Ah. Yes. That is beautiful. Feel the feelings. Thank you. I'm feeling a bit fragile right now but that's very nice of you."
.........
What's on my mind right now are all my doctor friends who have spent those long hard years becoming doctors and are now so burnt out. All of them talk about how hard they worked only to be ignored by pill-popping patients who do not want to be told to eat right and exercise. They talk about having to give medications that won't help in order to avoid being sued over the care the patient thinks he deserves. Hell, I watch people lose their minds with frustration over other people's self-pity right here in pre-allo.
I know my friend wanted the usual list of helpful breathing exercises when she wrote me. And there's nothing wrong with helpful breathing exercises. But after all this work and time, that's not what I want to offer right now.
I feel nonplussed, is what I'm saying. I feel my future.
I was wondering if this future worries any of you too, if you've had thoughts about this. Do you have ideas for how your career won't end up just being a really expensive speed bump on other people's highway to heck?
Would love to hear your thoughts.