Get ur freak on

I'm freaking out.

There's absolutely no way I can finish this. I've fallen too far behind, and it's just impossible now to catch up. Fifteen lectures. One essay. Piles upon piles of research. Two presentations. And that's just my to-do list for this weekend.

Wait. Stop. Breathe.

You have three weeks until your test. You can do this.

Oh my freaking god.

I only have three weeks to cram all this knowledge into my head?

Shit.

Like I said, I'm freaking out.

I'll admit that I've always been prone to freakouts. But usually the little voice in my head manages to talk some sense into my overwhelmed psyche and the freakout subsides. Today was different. I knew I had work to do, but my stress levels were still at a healthy level. Armed with a grande Green Tea Frappuccino from Starbucks (I'm addicted to that stuff), I headed for the library, ready to get my study on.

That's where it all went wrong. I ran into a friend, so naturally I stopped to say hello. Jokingly, I remarked that there was so much to study. And much to my surprise, she immediately got very serious and agreed, telling me how she was going to do additional research on a lecture point, since there was a bonus question in the supplemental material about the genetics related to maternal mitochondrial damage and its corresponding neurodegenerative effects.

Bonus question? Supplemental material? Genetics? What?

I nodded calmly in agreement, even though my head was spinning. After all, I didn't want to appear like the dumb med student who goes home to take naps while the rest of her classmates all visit the library religiously to go over the day's lecture in excruciating detail.

Except I am that slacker student.

I hastily left before she could stress me out any more with how much she was behind since I knew in my head that I was clearly eons behind her. I power-walked to the library, determined to get as much done as possible. There, I walked by several study rooms, all occupied by my classmates who were drawing detailed mechanisms and fact-filled charts on the blackboards.

Oh. My. God.

Yes. I'm freaking out. I'm in medical school, and I worked hard to get here. And I'm determined to stay. I'm just a little worried I might not make the cut.