Having spent the past six or seven months applying to hear back from strangers whether I have successfully convinced them of my dedication (in positive light) or, to be frank, worth, to pursue medicine in this foreign country that teases success through a tiny keyhole barely visible to even those who struggle to reach its height, I have now a growing list of thoughts about the state of my own psyche as well as the world that surrounds it.

On the theme of vulnerability, or perhaps a selfish exposé preying on charitable onlookers, I no longer possess the confidence I’ve held a year prior. Rejection, in this specific form, was a difficult emotion to process. It planted seeds of self-doubt, which I am not so sure how to exterminate without declaring war against reality as I experience it. Today I chase the fleeting comfort knowing that there is nothing more I can do, accompanied by the unnecessary regret that there were more that could be done. To deflect these deprecating accusations, I occasionally turn to bitter cynicism, as somewhat hinted in the first paragraph and maybe in a few more down the road.

The mid-20’s is truly an age of duality. Or in more accurate terms, an age of transition between such dualities, some of which we long for, others we vehemently delay (with little triumph). The most excruciating to bear, however, is the duality of potential and outcome, and the irreversible solidification of potential into failure. In extreme terms, the cursed transition from genius to crazy.

There is a sprouting fear that I will not become the person I sought out to be, and this fear cannot be dispelled with alternative solutions or imperfect mimetics of the ideal, no matter how soothing they may seem at conception, because their acceptance carries an implicit admission of fault. In that case, perhaps it is a blessing that the future I hope to conceive, at least in the present, ultimately depends not on personal will but on the verdict of third persons.

Regardless, it remains true that I envy those of you who have earned the path to your ideal future, and especially those of you who are certain it is one you are happy to walk. For that is stability I have not yet attained for myself.

Do not let this be a warrant for concern, as I am fully aware of the alleged power of optimistic thinking, and of the cosmic futility of half-empty glasses (this wordplay made better sense in my head; half-empty glasses are in fact not futile because they are half-empty).

I am recording these thoughts as a concurrent indicator of and invitation to change.