Quarter-life crisis

Yet again I find myself at a point in time where I resent my life. I find no meaning in my day, no passion or drive.


Have I hit quarter life crisis already?

I spent more than 21 years of my 25 years on this planet as a student. Kindergarten, elementary school, preparatory school, high school and the infamous seven years of med school. Exactly ten days after my last exam I started my internship. To say that I didn't get enough rest is an understatement; I hardly caught my breath before I dived into my new job, my first job. A few months into my internship, I find myself studying, half-heartedly trying to at least, for some board exam, so I secure a place in the residency program of my choice. One question that keeps posing itself over and over again is why? Why am I doing this? Why do I always find myself in this meaningless rat race?

The other day my dentist asked if I was always this serious, and the question just opened a flood of regrets, disappointments, bitterness and missed opportunities.

Besides the fact that I am a doctor, what do I have to show for the past 25 years of my life? When I am old and wrinkly, what gripping stories will I be able to share?

The first seven years of my adult life were lived in a sheltered academic life, surrounded by people in the same boat, an entourage of geeks. It set a tone to my life, and now I see myself clashing with reality. Life outside of a hospital is hard. Being in a social gathering is hard. Non-medical lingo is hard. I can't recommunicate with my non-medical friends. I don't have any medical friends where I live. I can't help but isolate myself. I have no hobbies. I have no social life. I don't even have "crazy" university moments to reminisce. And I am still not past the last terrorizing month of med-school to rewind to the good bits.

I can't help but feel sorry for my wasted youth. For not expanding my horizons. For exhausting my brain and not using my body. For not experimenting. For seeing these years pass me by.

I don't know what I want anymore. I am not making sense to myself anymore. I am not sure of anything anymore. All this negativity is making me resent being a doctor already. The passion for medicine is abating, the drive to thrive diminishing and I hate myself for feeling this way about the only thing I am good at, being a doctor.