Number 8

I just found back this blog. I have been looking for this blog for the longest time but I could not remember the address and name of this blog. And suddenly, tonight, I found it. 

I have come a really long way since my last entry. I graduated and started working. I made a new blog when I could not find this one. So I will just copy paste the entry I wrote in the new blog. Here it is: (written in February 22, 2014)

Ok, so this isn’t my first blog and I’ve written plenty of blogs before. Some anonymous, some not. But I’ve never really kept track on any of the blogs. Some I have already deleted, some are still out there on the www. But this particular blog, I feel like I need to write down. Anonymously. I’m not looking for tons of readers or fame or publicity or free stuff or sponsorships or whatever. I’m just looking for genuine opinion from genuine people who don’t know me firsthand. Kind of like a neutral, third person kind of an opinion.

 So maybe my problem isn’t exactly a big world problem or whatever, but it’s quite a big problem in my life now. Maybe I should start at the way beginning for a better understanding.

 First of all, I won’t reveal my true name in here. It would be totally against the whole being anonymous thing, right? But I could tell you I’m a Malaysian, working as a doctor in a government hospital in state X. I’m originally from state Y where I grew up in and where my family (parents and sibling) lives. I’ve been working in state X for almost a year now. I’m actually just a houseman (HO), a junior doctor. Once I’m finished with 2 years of being a houseman, I will officially become a medical officer (MO), which is some sort of promotion you could say, I guess. In other terms, a medical officer is the boss of houseman, whereas the specialist is the boss of medical officer and lastly, the consultant is the boss of everyone.

 So anyway, after graduation from university and getting my full degree as a doctor, got an offer to work in Hospital A in state X for my 2 years of housemanship. Initially, it was very depressing. I was not used to the endless working hours and tons of workloads and the huge, huge, huge responsibility of having a person’s life in your hands, of having that much trust and dependence for you to hold.

 That was really tough.

 I would go back to my rented apartment crying my eyes out every night. Sleeping late and waking up super early every day and to start my daily routine all overN again every single day. It was bad enough I was away from my family and friends and didn’t really have anybody in state X. And my MO and specialists were damn scary in the posting I was in. I was terrified, anxious, and depressed. It was a tough life.

 I wanted to quit. Really, really badly. I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t want my parents to worry about me. I had a boyfriend, but he was a total douchbag. He was no help at all. He didn’t understand. All he kept saying was, “That’s so normal babe. Everyone hates their job. I hate my job. You just gotta buck up and go through life.” He even told me if I quit, I would have nothing. Coz  I’m not pretty enough, I’m not hot enough, my social skills suck, and the only good thing going on in my life is that I’m a doctor. I guess that’s the only reason he ever stuck with me. I know. Some a** hole, right?????

 But still, I stuck with that a** hole. Coz I was so scared if I broke up with him, I would become super depressed. Because I was already depressed with my job to begin with so I didn’t want to add to that depression. But in reality, that a** hole was just worsening my depression. I just didn’t realised it then.

So after that, I went into my second posting. And met the most amazing guy ever. Well, okay, the first time I saw him, I didn’t think he was the most amazing guy ever. In fact, I thought he was kind of plain. And boring. And a nerd. Plus, he was my boss. A medical officer. I was sooooooo not attracted. Besides, I already had a boyfriend and all I wanted to do was quit and go back to state Y, my hometown. Looking for a new relationship with a new guy was the very last thing on my mind. Or it wasn’t on my mind at all. Besides, I thought the MO was married with kids anyway.

But, who could have expected—not even myself—that I would one day fall in love with that man. I think I should stop here first and continue that story in the next entry. Too sleepy now. Goodnight wonderful peeps out there