My emotions are usually compartmentalized and I can shut them off; I do not have the same efficacy when it comes to the larger picture though, my brain.

My educational pursuits and eventual career path of becoming a physician is the sole reason I am alive right now I wish it were the only entity of life I had to focus on.

These privileged students who scoff at me for trying to make a living during the end of term by buying books through a national company are upright snobs. Yes, this is exactly what I want to do during finals week, go around to friends and strangers and attempt to sway them to sell their books to me for cash.

I feel like a drug dealer most of the day carrying around way more cash than I’ve possessed in the last year, that amount it took years to be built up in savings and burnt through in months for health care costs. If I identify how I feel at this moment it is somewhere in between a cloud over reality and a shield made from black-box materials. I am entirely detached from reality, I can’t even grasp my present reality and I certainly am not handling well the pressures of three inconsistent buys jobs and an accelerated physics course on the weekend in addition to a full load during the week. About ten days more. Sure I can handle getting 5 hours of sleep. I’ve built the strongest tolerance I’ve ever experienced to medications right now. No dose knocks me out, even the strong ones at least not for more than 5 “quantity” hours of sleep, entirely lacking quality. My eye is twitching, I want to sleep. My brain is on fire. It keeps going, thinking. Turn off brain.

I don’t understand it, I don’t think we only get as much as we can handle because if I could handle all of this, I’d be getting straight A’s setting me up well for medical school. I’m not. You know why? Because there’s not enough time in the day to study work and sleep, and the compromise begins and ends with sleep. Sleep is my worst enemy. I never liked the night, always believed I’d be kidnapped or murdered at night. I was not consoled when I approached my parents with these concerns, rather shunned. Locked into my own room, locked out of everyone else’s. I was the only one in the house who didn’t get to have a lock on my door. Let’s talk about privilege and right and exclusivity. You don’t exist for me, because reality doesn’t exist for me. And that’s my brain.

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