Two years later...

From my perspective, my declining interest in writing over the last five years can be directly correlated to how much I've enjoyed what I was doing. I found it difficult to write or even, have perspective worth writing about, when the pinnacle of education for which I had longed, disintegrated into the most difficult experience of my life thus far.  Sure, medical school is supposed to be difficult.  But truthfully I expected it to be like the Peace Corps, "The Hardest Job You'll Ever Love." The Gambia certainly was difficult, in all sorts of unexpected ways, i.e. the loss of electricity was trivial next to the loss of identity. However, I did not anticipate medical school causing an even greater loss of identity, with less in the way of redeeming factors.  I am in recovery. Trying to count the good that may be counted, redeem that which was desecrated and rekindle those parts of myself that I have only in memories.