Fun & Semi-Relatable, Medicine

Not together

You know how there are people in this world who are really, what I call ‘together’? Honestly, I’m referring to women here, although I’m sure a male equivalent exists… I just haven’t paid a great deal of attention to them. This is because my warped conditioning means I compare myself to other women almost reflexively, eyeing up their waistlines in proportion to my own on the regs.

Anyway, I’m actually deviating right now because what I’m trying to say is that I’m really not together. And today is the least together I’ve felt in the longest time.

See, together people have this vibe about them, where confidence appears to be this trait that they’re born with. They walk in a certain way, dress with class, are poised in all their actions from the way they drink, to the way they toss their hair behind their shoulders, right down to (probably) the way they shit.

Now, everyone knows ‘together’ people and I bet you, right now, reading this can conjure up the image of someone who is very together in your mind. I can certainly think of two or three. If you can’t think of someone, that’s probably because you’re one of them (but I don’t feel like together people read my blog, so then again, you’re probably not).

The thing that really sucks about me is that I genuinely try so hard to be together. I do. Take my pre-employment check for example. I thought I was being so together: I organised my documentation into three labelled folders, I wore a shirt that day and I even walked with my shoulders back (a genuine struggle for a lanky individual such as myself) and then I rocked up there and there was a whole online thing that I’d forgotten to do. I swear this happens to me all the time. I always think I’ve done it… then I miss something important.

The way I act is absolutely not together either. Unfortunately, I have one of those really honest faces so I feel like if I’m absolutely bricking it, you can read it in my eyes like an open book. That’s stressful. Also I suck at faking it. The other week, I went to this amazing, michelin star meal which I didn’t even have to pay for but I was really tired and emotionally drained. Two glasses of expensive wine later, down came the wall and I couldn’t even be bothered to socialise, so I switched off. Even now when I think about it, I cringe at the number of together people at that meal who witnessed my lack of togetherness.

Also, women, I wear flats. I don’t wear heels. EVER. Exactly. Because I hate them, they’re painful, our bodies are not designed to stand on such a tiny pressure point and I refuse to let society push me into believing that I have to wear them, even in my best. So I always end up looking a little less together but I am taking it on the chin and saving my calves.

So I guess this level of confession usually leads to something a little deeper and you’re right, yes, it does. Tomorrow is my first day as a doctor.

And I’m not together enough for this. And I can’t even fake it.

Perhaps not something I should be admitting so publicly, but I am bricking it to some other level. I feel like all the Medicine I ever learned has drained out of me. Worse still, as I filed away my academic transcripts yesterday (in another desperado attempt at togetherness) I realised that I’ve got this piece of card that says I’ve done this degree but I don’t feel like a doctor at all. Sure, I wore the gown and walked the walk but it doesn’t mean a thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure I fluked my way through certain parts of medical school.

I know everyone feels like this and at some point, through repeatedly falling on my face (metaphorically) I will somehow get back up and learn how to do this job. The thing is though, the falling really scares me and I’m not together enough to fall gracefully.

I still don’t know if I’ve missed anything from the horde of emails I’ve been sent. I feel like there will be something. I don’t know the route to my new work place. Does my car even have enough petrol in it? To add to this, we’re having some big indian party today at the house (sigh, I live at home now, together points -2) and this means I can’t be a stresshead all day which is my way of coping.

I’ve just thrown my head back on my pillow in utter exasperation. Such is the catharsis that accompanies writing. It’s 10.56am. What respectable human is still in bed at this time? Not a together one, I’ll tell you that.

Anyway. I have a day to fake my way through. Time to get up and paste that smile on for the arrivals and pretend to be oh so excited to start my new job tomorrow, yay! God, I hope I don’t get too drunk.

Til next time, I wish you all the togetherness that I do not possess myself.

Love and all,

G xoxo

P.S. I know my blogging consistency has been crap recently. I act like I’m so popular… sincere apologies to all my fans and loyal readers lalala  bullshit. Honestly, my head has been so screwed up and when I write, it means I have to face the reality of what is happening in there and recently, I haven’t wanted to. That’s the whole truth.

P.P.S. Despite the lack of togetherness, one thing every goddamn tutor I’ve had over the last five years has said is that I’m ‘enthusiastic’. And actually, I am. I can’t wait to start work. I can’t wait to have a purpose. I can’t wait to feel absolutely exhausted because I’ve done something good with my day. So it’ll be fine. It’s all going to be okay.

P.P.P.S. ‘Enthusiastic’ is so much better than ‘together’.

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