A new page to contain all my travel experiences. Slowly working my way backwards, starting with Bangkok.
In Bangkok, I made a pact with myself to treat serious decisions as if they were the easiest, as I could no longer be fussed with losing sleep over what felt like (and often were) the most trivial things. Once I started approaching my choices in a zen-like way, it diminished the significance and I took on board a relaxed demeanour which has even been noticed by colleagues. Being ‘the chilled out one’ in a medical firm is a label I am still trying to get my head around, especially given the speed at which it happened. Arms folded, leg jittering and rapidly flicking through the cheese and onion is something I’m more accustomed to. To my surprise, my new found approach is attracting others seeking comfort; I welcomed the unsolicited head resting on my shoulder to the hug behind the cubicles in majors. There’s mutual benefit, I am hugely affectionate and it’s kind of cool knowing that in my serenity provides a kind of maternal comfort.
After meditation class, I came home to find a perfectly good avocado half thrown in the bin. R.A.G.E. There is still a lot to learn.
My life has improved exponentially since ending my relationship. I hadn’t expected this to be the case, but through compassion, friendship and laughter I am seeing the world through a different pair of eyes. My stomach no longer knots, disappointment no longer heaves on my shoulders and the 3 year cough I had resigned myself to live with stopped as soon as I hit Hawaii. I would often tell patients familiarise themselves with their bodies so that they can tune in to when things are not right, but I chose to ignore the glaringly obvious symptoms in myself. I could feel a variety of things about this but after holding on to a lot of pain during my adolescence, the best way forward has been to acknowledge and let go.
I’m lucky to have a place I can always call home yet living with my parents after years of being away has brought its own set of difficulties. I am fast learning that hiding books on domination behind the large sofa pillow *will* be found, I no longer have the freedom to bring lovers back if I wanted to and nakedness is generally confined to the bedroom. In three months, I still have not walked into the town centre out of some obscure denial (if a bottle of WKD gets smashed outside Wetherspoons and I’m not there to hear it…?) because I am having trouble reconciling the idea that I am back in the town that I spent my entire life trying to get out of.
That said, it’s not all bad and my approach to life has been fairly upbeat despite the tone here, so I generally snap out of any melancholy I’m feeling by acknowledging that my situation is transient and that my life is getting better and better. I no longer have the doe-eyed surreal optimism I had at the age of 16 but I feel more grounded and self-assured, so there’s no reason to think that the years ahead won’t be oarsome.
1999: I am single, living with my parents and preparing for some very important exams in June
2009: …
… never mind
In recent weeks I have experienced short, intermittent bursts of anxiety. I can deal with late night jitters as I am naturally active in the evenings, so any worries disappear with a bout of exercise, candlelit shower and some light meditation. Waking up anxious bothers me a great deal, I feel a sense of injustice in the face of a comfortable night’s sleep that my mind decides to wrinkle up without warning, akin to shoving a meringue into a searing hot oven. This morning I didn’t even have to go into the hospital so the long-standing battle I have with myself to make sense of why I am feeling this way deepens. My night-time ritual doesn’t seem to fit the context of the morning’s grievances well, so I have taken to reading the news to the sound of trance and any knots manage to untangle themselves.
I know exactly what is going on: I am unwilling to accept the inevitability that comes with jumping on the doctor conveyor belt. Including A levels, I have given roughly a third of my life to medicine and I am not sure it would be right for me to start work immediately. The itch to work abroad is driving me to distraction and now is a good time to do it given that I have no commitments. In addition to this, the fallout from ending a 4 year relationship where I felt that I lost my sense of self along the way has exacerbated these feelings. And why shouldn’t they? I have ploughed along mindlessly for a long time and now that my relationship is over and medical school is soon to come to an end, I can’t help feeling that I don’t yet want to be sucked into the vortex of working as a junior doctor without giving it some serious thought first.
Ultimately I think I just have to accept a few painful truths: I felt a greater sense of achievement and fulfilment getting on a bike and riding over San Francisco’s Golden Gate bridge than anything I have ever done during medical school.
Whenever I have a strong coffee* I get an overwhelming urge to strike up random conversations with strangers and compliment them. I wanted to tell the woman sitting opposite me on the Tube that she had the most beautiful green eyes. I wanted to talk to the man next to me on the train and tell him that he looked very familiar to me. I wanted to leap up in the middle of the carriage when K90’s Red Snapper reached a crescendo.
I was once on a train leaving Victoria when a blind man started talking to a man next to him. He asked the guy his name, what had been his best year and what had been his worst year. The man was surprisingly amenable to the conversation. I was going through a stressful time so no doubt I would have been a blubbering mess trying to explain why 1999 had been such a bad year. I’m not unfamiliar with public crying, the last time it happened I was handed a religious pamphlet outside Brixton Prison. It didn’t make much difference to my life but the sentiment was heartwarming.
Back to my coffee high and luckily I had the good sense to keep quiet. Then again, why should I? A friend of mine believes it’s more important to create heaven on earth than living to get into the good side of the afterlife and I guess when my synapses are overloading, I want to do the same.
* I was also riding the endorphin high due to the purchase of this, oh yes
Throughout my medical training, I rarely got my first choice in the context of ranking activities. True fax, I wasn’t as smart of dedicated as some medics early on, nor did I care thanks to depression leaving a dull residue on my drive. As the paradox goes, I was successful in getting my first choice deanery and area to work in, except now it has left me with a jittery energy that I’m having trouble processing. I initially put it down to feeling nervous about becoming a doctor and everything that means but the truth is, I don’t want to be tied down yet. Rephrasing that, I don’t mind being tied to medicine for the forseeable future, but staying here fills me with dread as it’s harder to jump off the conveyor belt once on.
I am also aware that I’m hanging on to some nervous energy because I am fast approaching the age my father was when he died. It only took a generation but my life now to his life then is very different. I do not necessarily want the same things my father had at this age, but it’s hard going trying to relate to someone so close yet so unknown. Being an only child makes the spotlight brighter and definitely contributes to the feelings described above.
I was recently given a journal so I’ve jotted down ideas about what I could be doing come August. Stay, leave or leave and do something completely different for a while. The only thing they have in common is that I have to pass my finals, so I may as well get on with that. I’m sure I can give myself something else to be jittery about.
Many people told me that I would learn a lot about myself on my travels. I discovered I could make myself come.
Ok, not strictly true. I have never had trouble reaching the exquisite point-of-no-return, but not by hand alone. In the end it took a lot of practice across three continents. The sense of pride I felt was reminiscent of when I learned to ride my bike without stabilisers. I didn’t feel as though I was finally at one with myself, but it was nice knowing that I’m never too old to learn new things.
* I am in my first year of medical school and I get a letter informing me that my results are no longer valid and I will have to re-sit my A levels. It’s up to me to tell my university about this and I decide to keep quiet.
* I am taking my exams and have forgotten to revise a really important topic.
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Whenever this happens, it seems to take longer and longer for me to register and accept that I’m well into my adulthood and university education. My A levels were far more stressful than any other exam I have ever taken as I had more to lose at the time (and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown, another story for another time). Now that my finals are approaching I wonder if as a doctor, I’ll wake and have to reassure myself in a ’same same, but different’ context.
Forgot to mention something about dinner with former love interest: he commented on my newly found dominant desires and thought I had never really been submissive because I always seemed to give specific instructions of what I wanted from the start. He and I never engaged in any sort of power play so the information given to him was from my perspective, but he drew his own conclusions from an incident in the kitchen: he came round to cook me steak as I had felt low and he said I found it very hard to just let him get on with things; everything happened under my watchful eye. In fairness this could have been a reflection of my insecurities of the relationship at the time (yeah right, I was a control freak through and through). I was once massively uptight and controlling in the kitchen, this has eased off as the years have gone by.
In search of inspiration, I found a book containing short stories. Some are predictable and trite but as I am treading on very new ground, I probably should read and do before criticising.
Life recently has had a strange merry-go-round feel to it. This week I met up with a former love interest who I had not seen in years. Our relationship 7 years ago was intense, but it somehow evolved into a brother/sister type of friendship. Occasionally we would cross a few lines and end up redefining our roles – notably on the corridor floor at my old place. The reunion was surprising: we agreed that neither person had aged, conversation flowed easily with no awkward pauses and the only physical contact was a kiss on the cheek before I stumbled into a cab. Back in April when we were negotiating a meet, we explicitly stated no humping but there was no need for it in the end, he has been a protective figure in my life ever since we called it a day.
We went from manic club nights in King’s Cross – drenched in the smell of shisha, seeing his friends force feed him ecstasy – to civilised dinners and discussions about bad relationships and eastern philosophy. Wha?
