entropy.

Within the past two months, I have caught myself thinking way too much. As a natural over thinker, I have a huge tendency to do so.

Quarantine has brought on what seems like an adjustment in every avenue in my life. First was school. As someone that thrives in cafes and libraries, I really had to learn to study in the same room as my bed. That was tough. Next was work. I decided to step up and accept a position at a hospital and quit my other job. This was definitely a learning curve. As a nursing student, I was expected to know almost as much as licensed nurses so I could help them out. I remember, on my first day, I was expected to hang and infuse blood, which I had never done before. My first month was difficult; I received a lot of criticism and definitely felt the “Nurses eat their young” mantra to this day. Then, there comes everything else. Running errands took much longer. I couldn't believe that getting some turon or pandesal from my local Filipino store would take an hour of waiting around in lines. I also really didn't think that normal things, like seeing your friends or going for a walk, was going to be illegal in my lifetime, but here we are. I don't do too well with change. I try to be as fluid and resilient as possible to transition smoothly, but, deep down, I hate when things in my life change. 

Then, there comes the self-doubt. As someone that has felt the pressure to be productive and successful since high school, I continued to feel this way–––perhaps more–––through the first few weeks of quarantine. But then exams were over, so what the hell else was I supposed to do? I had this need to constantly study. Despite exhaustion after work, I had this nagging instinct that I really needed to get up, stop resting, and study. It reached some points when I actually looked over a few of my notes from previous courses to make myself feel better.

Now, how was I supposed to cope? I use the gym as my escape when I feel even a speck of negativity in my life (and yes, I tried to do home workouts, but it just doesn’t hit like lifting heavy weights does). I also use sleep, but I can only sleep so much before I feel more like shit. So, I really didn't know what to do. Naturally, without my main coping mechanism, when I felt mad or sad, or any negative emotion in that sense, it was at an increased level than usual. Where was I gonna release all that negativity? Nowhere. It stowed in my one remaining brain cell–––as well as my journal–––and bottled itself up. Or, I just played animal crossing to escape the realities of today’s world. 

So, then what about my 2020 plans/goals? Trashed. I was supposed to write my MCAT this year, which I ultimately decided to scrap since the test dates were very uncertain. This has now set me back with my academic timeline in mind. Then, so many travel plans!! Cancelled, gone, don’t even think about them. 

Then, the worst of it all, my parents getting COVID. The day I found out––I remember so vividly balling my eyes out driving home after such a worrisome phone call. You never truly think it would be you or any of your family until it actually happens.