Breakaway

I think I'm homesick.

I always get this way around the holidays. Especially right after Thanksgiving. Maybe it's because I don't go home. Maybe it's because I spent Thanksgiving with my roommate's adorable cousins, and I miss my own family. Maybe it's because I spent Black Friday with my older sister and her fiance, and it just hit me that our Thanksgivings will never be the same after she's married.

Maybe it's not homesickness at all. Maybe I'm just realizing how much studying I have yet to do, and I'd much rather disappear. Or run away from it.

I'm burnt out.

That sounds so silly. It's only been two units! But I am. This constant stressing to be at least average on a test? Not healthy. But every day, the stress levels just seem to rise a little higher, and I swear, I feel like I'm in over my head for this current unit.

I'm burnt out and I miss my parents.

I'm overwhelmed. And I shouldn't be. But I'm at a top twenty med school, and I'm starting to wonder if there was a huge fluke in the admissions office the day they sent me my acceptance letter. Honestly, should I be floundering this much? Should it take me 3-4 lecture run-throughs to have a vague idea of what I'm supposed to be learning? If I'm supposed to be here, why don't things come more easily than they do?

This unit was going to be different from the last two, I told myself. I was going to stay on top of things, study with a genius, swallow my pride and ask the stupid questions, get things done...I was going to prove to myself that I belonged here. That I could be a top twenty med student. That the admissions office didn't make a mistake.

I don't know if that's going to happen. Tomorrow's the one-week mark. And despite my resolutions, I find myself hoping, crossing my fingers, that I'll somehow miraculously pass. Here's hoping I have a guardian angel looking over me. Honestly? There are serious problems with going from being the top student in high school to being above-average in college to clinging on by a hair in med school. I peaked in high school, and it's been a steady decline ever since.

One thing's for sure; my self esteem is plummeting.

But that's not what concerns me that much. I can handle not being the smartest person in class. I can deal with low self-esteem. What worries me is that I might not be as competent as I thought. And if there's one thing I don't want to be, it's an incompetent doctor.

So much for wanting to help people. I should have became a baker instead, and made a fortune off of healthy dessert alternatives.

I wish I were home. Having bonfires with my friends and enjoying the year-round California weather loveliness. I wish I were studying at home, knowing my mommy would bring me midnight snacks of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Giant bear hugs from my dad. Yes, I'm twenty-two years old, but those childhood pleasures still make me infinitely happy.

I just need a sign, an omen, validation. Anything, really. I need something that tells me that yes, I do belong here. That yes, Chicago could be home too.