Somewhat like the jazz standard ‘Bewtiched, bothered, and bewildered’, but only the miserable and mopey part at the end.
I’m getting a bit worried now. Everything seems to be back on a downwards trajectory. And I can’t tell anymore if it’s me reacting relatively rationally to difficult circumstances, or whether it’s my brain playing tricks on me. I suspect, given I’m struggling to look at things objectively, that it’s the latter, but that doesn’t necessarily make me feel any less shite.
Currently I have less than no money, and this is the situation for the foreseeable future. Thanks student finance. Great organisation there! For once, not even my fault.. they gave me the wrong information months ago, when I tried to sort it out before.. but it is being sorted now, and only with a little chivvying along from my wonderful flatmate. Except it’s not being sorted. They’ve told me the wrong thing. Again. So basically, I have no money to live off, pay rent, and they’re not paying my fees, so I’m probably going to get kicked off my course.
I’ve also been realising that I’m actually totally totally fucked. There are only 2 or 3 medical schools I can actually apply to now. Barts are sticking to their new A level Chemistry rule, and Warwick said they would just discard my application as most of my medical experience is with St John. This stings a little bit. I understand it for the most part; there’s no guarantee that you’ve actually treated many, or any serious, patients. But to automatically throw me on the ‘useless’ pile, without reading my application.. If they read it.. If they saw that actually, I have hundreds of hours working directly with patients in very high pressured situations, and for the most part cope with this, then maybe they might re-think the value of St John. I understand the want or NHS experience, but in my role in SJA I am often the lead clinician on a patient, or even a shift. This means it’s my call. It’s my responsibility to do the right thing, and it comes down on me if it’s wrong. You obviously get different things out of different experiences, but working on a ward as a HCA (which I will hopefully ve starting soon) cannot give the same amount of autonomy or leadership experience. And it hurts that I’m essentially being told something I’ve put my life and soul into is worthless. So I decided it wasn’t worth applying.
On top of this, I managed to somehow get meningitis… (I don’t f*cking know either). This was, obviously, a bit shit, and hasn’t helped with general mental wellbeing. I’m now behind on uni work, and desperately trying to catch up, whilst also starting my dissertation, extra reading, and completing assignments. There is not the time. All I have done is uni work. No St John, no scouts.. nothing. And it feels crap.
On top of that, I generally feel pretty hopeless. I am repeatedly being told that I’m not a successful, functional adult, and maybe I just can’t take a joke, but it feels vindictive when I know it’s true. I’ve had people saying left right and centre ‘oh.. so it wasn’t *your fault* you were in hospital this time’. As if before, I’d chosen to have mental health crises, and happily swanned into A&E. As if I had been aware enough of my surroundings to make a decision for myself. As if I hadn’t been dragged, kicking and screaming by the statutory services and my friends, locked in cars, sectioned… I could go on.
I was so happy with how I was doing. I was so proud of myself, for coming so far, in just a few months. I’d got my shit together, got a new flat and moved in, new laptop, new jobs, I thought I’d sorted student finance.. but none of these things seem to work out for me in the way they do for other people. I still haven’t started my new jobs, because the paperwork is taking ages to go through, and there are continual hiccoughs. Student finance still isn’t sorted because I’ve been given the wrong information so many times. It’s not like I’m not trying. I try has hard as anyone else. I do what I’m supposed to, and nothing ever works for me. And I don’t understand why. I feel useless enough about all of this as it is. But having regular reminders makes me feel about 1cm tall.
I’m aware of how self pitying this is. But I feel shit. And I’m scared. Because I know what happened the last time I felt like this.
Just Another nutter 