So, my old man chewed me out today because he thinks I’m slacking off on my workouts. He’s acting like some undercover fed or something. "Fine then, go work in the orchards picking oranges," he says. Honestly? I'll take him up on it. I couldn't care less.
Design was my first choice, but the best programs are all based in New York, much like how I couldn't do veterinary medicine because I didn't want to move to Boston. Eventually, I gravitated toward nursing after watching nurses work in local hospitals. I didn't even attempt pre-med due to my grades and a total lack of foundation in the sciences. Back then, I had no idea what the reality of nursing actually entailed. Now I know better, and I know that with my diagnosis, this career is off the table. So, what's left? I'm not exactly a genius...
I’m honestly on the verge of a total meltdown tomorrow. I might just lose it and snap at them. Why on earth are they giving priority to colleagues who either went to nursing school or managed to squeeze in some summer internship last year? I came straight from high school and my internship was scrapped because of COVID, so my entire practical experience boils down to working with mannequins. The focus should be on my potential, but clearly, they couldn't care less about that.
Michael Lee75 said:cosmiclynx79, man, I really feel for you, it sounds like such a massive grind.
Does your old man actually know about everything you're going through? And if he does, is he one of those types who thinks you're just blowing things out of proportion or making stuff up? I can't help but wonder why he's being so incredibly stubborn about you sticking with this specific degree.
He knows exactly what's happening. He just keeps pushing because he’s convinced that once I have this degree, I'll land a high-paying job immediately.
I freeze up when I feel eyes on me. I often intend to get things done right when they ask, but my coworkers always beat me to it. It ends up being awkward having to approach my sister personally to try and make up for it.
I’m clearly questioning why I ever signed up for this nursing program. I love the idea of nursing—the actual profession—and the spark came from being hospitalized three times myself. I had no clue what I was actually signing up for. My grades reflect my effort; I study hard, but the clinical application is a disaster. My only "experience" involves practicing on mannequins because the pandemic wiped out my clinical rotations last year. I know how to draw blood and perform basic procedures, but I freeze up whenever someone watches me, especially when I'm being supervised by seasoned students who make it look easy. I want to step up and take initiative with things like feeding tubes, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I made it to my second year with solid marks, but now I'm staring at the exit. I'll have to quit, find some random job, and pivot to a different major—probably English. The thought of heading into clinicals is a literal nightmare. I spend all day sleeping to escape. I've lost weight, and I'm struggling with self-harm and suicidal thoughts.
Yesterday felt manageable, a decent introduction to nursing, but today was an absolute train wreck. I spiraled into a panic attack and nearly broke down in tears watching my classmates breeze through everything while I just stood there, paralyzed. I wanted to draw blood or insert a catheter, but I couldn't even bring myself to try. It was pathetic. One of the nurses actually asked me why I even bothered enrolling in the program. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. My dad won't let me switch majors, either. I'm definitely in the middle of a depressive episode—I've spent the entire day in bed, neglected my hygiene, and have zero energy for anything. I feel like I need to head back to the psychiatric clinic because I don't see anyone else who can help.
But I have no idea how I’d manage my lectures; they aren't all remote, and neither are the exams. Plus, there's no telling how long I'd be stuck in the hospital—the last time I was admitted, it turned into a two-month stay.
I'm already on Paxil, but I can't get an appointment with a psychiatrist or psychologist right now. My only option is to check myself into a psychiatric hospital voluntarily, because I'm dealing with suicidal ideation and the urge to self-harm.
I’m a nursing student, and for the next two weeks, I’ve got clinical rotations on the internal medicine ward for four hours a day. Honestly, the panic is already setting in. Is it a bad idea to take 10 mg of Valium every morning before my shift just to stay calm? If I switch majors, my parents won't fund my education anymore, and I'll be forced into the workforce—but finding a job is nearly impossible given my social anxiety. I really want to work so I don't have to rely on my parents. If anyone has advice regarding clinicals, please share. And sorry if this thread is out of place; I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed right now.