BST 2 – Checking In
BST 2 - CHECKING IN
When I first returned from my gap year, I promised myself that I would never again become so consumed by work that I forgot how to live.
At the beginning of BST 1, that was my greatest fear. I worried that medicine would slowly swallow everything else – the travelling, diving, writing, exercise and countless other things that had made me feel free. To stop that from happening, I began checking in with myself every few months, asking whether I was still happy, what brought me joy and whether the life I was building was actually one I wanted to live.
Now, halfway through BST 2, I found myself returning to those questions once again. The strange thing is that the life I was so afraid of losing has not disappeared. If anything, I had held onto it remarkably well. I still travelled, exercised, spent time outdoors and threw myself into new experiences whenever I could. I was progressing in my career, taking my studies more seriously and becoming more confident in the emergency department. From the outside, it appeared as if I had achieved the balance I once believed would solve everything.
And yet, something felt different. Perhaps the problem was no longer that I had fallen back into my old rut. Perhaps the life I worked so hard to create simply did not fit me in quite the same way anymore. And so, once again, it was time to check in.
So-so. I’ve been doing all the things that used to make me feel happy and fulfilled. I’m working out and taking part in all kinds of outdoor sports. I’m travelling as much as I can, whenever I can. I also feel as though I’m thriving at work, especially since I started taking my studying more seriously.
But, if I’m being honest, something feels like it’s missing. I’m still doing everything that brought me joy only a few months ago, yet somehow, it doesn’t feel like enough anymore. The routine hasn’t changed all that much – I have. Perhaps that is the problem.
I suppose I can sum it up like this:
- Nature: The warmth of the sun and the vastness of the sea. The green of grass beneath my feet. Exploring unfamiliar places, whether they are beaches, caves, forests, jungles or mountains. Anything wild, beautiful and far removed from four concrete walls.
- Activity: Working out, practising yoga and doing calisthenics. Diving, snorkelling, kayaking and paddleboarding. Climbing, hiking and trekking. Anything that allows me to move, challenge myself and feel physically present.
- Learning: Discovering something new through online resources, books and documentaries. Learning from experienced people, but also through my own mistakes, adventures and experiences.
- Art: Listening to music, singing and dancing. Reading and writing. Watching television, becoming absorbed in a story and occasionally creating one of my own.
To boil it all down: freedom, love, adventure and wisdom. Also, my cat Scout – one hundred per cent. No questions asked.
Last winter, I found myself freaking out because I had begun neglecting cycling and diving once the weather changed. This year feels different.
I’m becoming better at playing things by ear and remaining flexible enough to change my plans. I can’t accuse myself of neglecting kayaking or paddleboarding when the weather simply isn’t suitable. Not every abandoned plan represents a personal failure. That said, I can’t blame the weather for all my shortcomings. There are things I am genuinely neglecting:
- Self-care: I’m kinda letting myself go. Haircuts and beard trims have become a last resort. My skincare routine now operates strictly on a PRN basis. Also fitness in general. I’ve maintained my yoga practice, but since injuring my shoulder, I have barely completed any proper workouts. Some rest was obviously warranted, but a shoulder injury doesn’t necessarily prevent me from running, walking or finding other ways to exercise that don’t aggravate it. At some point, recovery becomes an explanation. After that, it risks becoming an excuse.
- Cultural experiences: I don’t know whether I can entirely blame myself for slacking off in that department. Momma Bear and I had agreed that we would visit museums, historical sites and other cultural places together. Unfortunately, we work opposite shifts and often have different priorities, meaning that we barely manage to go anywhere. Perhaps I would be better off going alone.
- Knowledge: I can’t remember the last time I watched a documentary or deliberately learnt about something unrelated to my medical training. To be fair, studying for my exams already consumes most of my available brainpower. Still, I miss learning simply because something fascinates me, rather than because it might appear in an exam.
Fitness-wise, it is the collection of injuries that has accumulated over the past few months. Motivation-wise, it is the knowledge that I have to lock myself indoors and study for the MRCEM Part B exam.
Perhaps I need to stop viewing this period as wasted time and start treating it as a chance to recover and regroup. Studying is a necessary sacrifice. Resting my injuries is necessary too. It might feel as though I am putting my life on hold, but perhaps I am simply preparing for its next phase.
Not every season of life needs to be filled with movement, adventure and visible progress. Some periods are quieter and some others are spent rebuilding. That doesn’t make them meaningless.
Before Albania, I had been thinking about buying a place of my own and moving out. I was craving a dramatic change, mostly because I wanted something powerful enough to drag me out of the rut I had fallen into.
Now? Now I’m torn. Living with my family allows me to save money and travel far more often. It also gives me significantly more time for myself because she spoils me rotten and covers most of our everyday living costs. Moving out would give me greater independence, privacy and the feeling that I was finally progressing into the next stage of adulthood. It would also mean sacrificing money, time and many of the freedoms that currently define my life. Neither choice is entirely right or wrong.
But do I still feel as though I need a change? Most definitely. I feel as though it is time to reinvent myself. I just don’t know what that reinvention is supposed to look like. Perhaps it means moving out. Perhaps it means changing how I travel, train or spend my free time. Perhaps it means accepting that the things that fulfilled an older version of me are no longer enough for the person I am becoming.
For years, I treated happiness as though it were a formula. Work hard. Exercise. Travel. Learn. Stay independent. Keep moving. It worked remarkably well – until it didn’t any more. Maybe reinvention isn’t about abandoning the life I have built. Maybe it is about allowing that life to evolve before it becomes another routine I follow purely out of obligation.