In less than three months time, I will be jobless. A few of my friends who I thought was in the same boat as me have finally gotten jobs. I am happy for them but at the same time am niggled by thoughts of, "I'm sure I'm just as good, why didn't I get a job?" I think I know the answer myself, though it pains me to admit it. I did not try hard enough.
If I really wanted it, I would have put my back into it. Yes, I want a job, yes, I want to stay here, but I have been content to let things happen to me rather than chase after what I want. I've never had to work my ass off for anything in life. I manage to scrap through, by the skin of my teeth for most things.
What disturbs me more is something that has troubled me for years - a side of myself I do not like, nor want to admit that it exists. Essentially, because I'm afraid of it, afraid that there are some things you are born with that you cannot change. In my family of five children, each person stood out through their particular characteristic. I was the cool, unflappable, unemotional one. So cool, in fact, that my elder sister thought I had some form of autism, so unresponsive was I to any form of taunt, tease, or verbal abuse. For many years I was happy, or rather, content with the way I was. Other people can run around like headless chickens, but I can be safely smug in my unexcitable, unemotional world.
Then I hit seventeen and finished secondary school. At that point, for me, the question wasn't so much "What do I want to do?" but 'What do I want to become?" And it dawned on me the kind of joyless life I would lead and the humourless person I might become if I didn't somehow snap out of my closed routine. So I made the several decisions that have led me to this point in life. I am glad of the path I took because I think I would be a different person if I had stayed close to home and did not become a doctor. A better or worse person I don't know but I do not regret the experiences it has given me. But I think I have become stuck in a rut. I allowed myself to become disillusioned and cynical and fall back into old habits. It used to be a protective mechanism, to hold people at a distance but I know better that it protects no one, least of all me.
A few years ago, I read an article written by a man who went many years with undiagnosed hypothyroidism.The disease causes diminished or absent secretion of the thyroid hormones, which effect growth, metabolism, cardiac output, heart rate, heat generation, sleep, sexual function, cerebral function - everything you need to keep yourself going. The lack of thyroid hormones result in lethargy, increased weight, depression, dementia, decreased libido, cardiac failure, hypothermia, seizures and even coma. But this man plodded on with his life, held down jobs and relationships for, I can't remember now, maybe between 10 -20 years. When finally a doctor twigged on to what was wrong and did a blood test, the results were so incredible that his doctor told him, "Chemically, you're dead."
Thus this man came to learn of his disease and the effect it had on his life. And it caused him to examine all the decisions that he had made in his life - was it ever influenced by his chemical condition? The apathy that he felt, the times when he didn't have the energy. When he thought of all the oppurtunities that he lost, the relationships that fell through, the friends he never kept in touch with, the projects he let slip, - did this disease take that all from him?
It was a moving article, from which I unfortunately cannot quote because I cannot remember the name of the author nor the newspaper it was published in. What touched me about it, was the sense of loss conveyed by the author.
I do not have hypothyroidism. But his extreme circumstances caused me to pause and evaluate my own life. What about the oppurtunities I had that I allowed to pass because I lacked the drive for it? Not because of some chemical imbalance but through lack of will and the ability to bestir myself?
If I really wanted it, I would have put my back into it. Yes, I want a job, yes, I want to stay here, but I have been content to let things happen to me rather than chase after what I want. I've never had to work my ass off for anything in life. I manage to scrap through, by the skin of my teeth for most things.
What disturbs me more is something that has troubled me for years - a side of myself I do not like, nor want to admit that it exists. Essentially, because I'm afraid of it, afraid that there are some things you are born with that you cannot change. In my family of five children, each person stood out through their particular characteristic. I was the cool, unflappable, unemotional one. So cool, in fact, that my elder sister thought I had some form of autism, so unresponsive was I to any form of taunt, tease, or verbal abuse. For many years I was happy, or rather, content with the way I was. Other people can run around like headless chickens, but I can be safely smug in my unexcitable, unemotional world.
Then I hit seventeen and finished secondary school. At that point, for me, the question wasn't so much "What do I want to do?" but 'What do I want to become?" And it dawned on me the kind of joyless life I would lead and the humourless person I might become if I didn't somehow snap out of my closed routine. So I made the several decisions that have led me to this point in life. I am glad of the path I took because I think I would be a different person if I had stayed close to home and did not become a doctor. A better or worse person I don't know but I do not regret the experiences it has given me. But I think I have become stuck in a rut. I allowed myself to become disillusioned and cynical and fall back into old habits. It used to be a protective mechanism, to hold people at a distance but I know better that it protects no one, least of all me.
A few years ago, I read an article written by a man who went many years with undiagnosed hypothyroidism.The disease causes diminished or absent secretion of the thyroid hormones, which effect growth, metabolism, cardiac output, heart rate, heat generation, sleep, sexual function, cerebral function - everything you need to keep yourself going. The lack of thyroid hormones result in lethargy, increased weight, depression, dementia, decreased libido, cardiac failure, hypothermia, seizures and even coma. But this man plodded on with his life, held down jobs and relationships for, I can't remember now, maybe between 10 -20 years. When finally a doctor twigged on to what was wrong and did a blood test, the results were so incredible that his doctor told him, "Chemically, you're dead."
Thus this man came to learn of his disease and the effect it had on his life. And it caused him to examine all the decisions that he had made in his life - was it ever influenced by his chemical condition? The apathy that he felt, the times when he didn't have the energy. When he thought of all the oppurtunities that he lost, the relationships that fell through, the friends he never kept in touch with, the projects he let slip, - did this disease take that all from him?
It was a moving article, from which I unfortunately cannot quote because I cannot remember the name of the author nor the newspaper it was published in. What touched me about it, was the sense of loss conveyed by the author.
I do not have hypothyroidism. But his extreme circumstances caused me to pause and evaluate my own life. What about the oppurtunities I had that I allowed to pass because I lacked the drive for it? Not because of some chemical imbalance but through lack of will and the ability to bestir myself?
Comments
What does he know? Git.
Grrr, I need a holiday. I need to go on a road trip again. How's Australia this time of the year?
and i'm spartacus.
but sunny