Self-Interpretation

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It's been so long since I've poured out my thoughts and feelings in text. I've realized that I'm a much more private person than I had originally assumed. Or at least I've become more private after my angsty high school days.. But tonight I'm here sitting with my mind a little blurry from 4 sleep-deprived weeks of Ob/Gyn rotations, and my heart a little sore from the aftermath of several emotionally trying days. I won't go into the details of what has been happening (see previous sentences), but it has gotten my writer's mind churning and I find that it is oftentimes in these exhaustive situations that we learn what we're made of.

I am rarely overdramatic. If anything, I err more on the underdramatic side. I like to minimize my negative emotions by brushing them off, and convincing everyone around me - in an attempt to convince myself, of course - just how trivial these emotions are. If I am wronged or hurt, my first instinct is to limp off to a corner, regain my composure, try to forgive, and return without the offender even realizing anything has happened. But in doing so, I oftentimes run the risk of harboring grievances unbeknownst to myself, so that if the same offender were to hurt me again in a similar way, I'd react in such a strong way that it'd come as a surprise to me. As time goes on, and I encounter more personal and relational conflicts, I'm trying to be more honest about my emotions, more fearless about expressing my pain, and more humble about admitting offense.

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