(ENG) You're a Fool When You're Not Accepted at Medical School (It's Me, Not You)

Pic credit to pinterest.

All this time, I’ve never really bothered when I failed certain exams.

You know why? Because I’ve already tasted what it feels like to be on top—to enjoy success, to be number one, to be the only person standing there. And you know ranking first is never shared; it’s just one spot. That’s why I said I was the only one.

I know how it feels to enjoy that kind of success.

So when I fail, I tell myself, I’m fine. I’m okay. Because at least there’s still one hope left that I can hold on to, a chance to try again.

But lately, that existence has vanished.

Swallowed by time, buried by reality. I feel like a fool—someone who has never earned first place, someone people look at and think, she’s the stupid one who never managed to get into Medical School, even after three tries. Maybe it’s just in my head, but still... I feel dumb, I feel unworthy to teach someone else when I can’t even pass my own exams. How could I help others rank first when all I’ve been feeling lately is failure?

I can’t. That’s how it feels.

I honestly feel like there’s nothing left in me to make anyone proud. I am grateful, yes, for what I still have, but at the same time I feel like I’ve failed at everything I’ve chosen. I fought, I studied like crazy, but the end result? Nothing worth celebrating. Nothing to make anyone proud.

All I can do is write.

No one reads? That’s fine. Because I still have my own eyes and heart to read what I’ve written. I know I have to feel enough with myself, because there’s no one else I can lean on if I can’t even value who I am.

That’s why so many books, essays, and stories now talk about self-love. Because I know so many people out there lose themselves, lose what they really want. And the existence of your own self—that’s the most important thing.

It’s normal to feel disappointed in the people closest to you. Why? Because they’re human too, just like you. They get tired, annoyed, frustrated. So when you’re no longer their priority, it’s natural to feel hurt. But it’s also natural for them to act that way. That’s why you need to feel enough with yourself.

When you’re sad and no one comforts you, you still have Allah, and you still have yourself.

It’s normal to feel lonely—who really wants to be alone in this world? No one.

“Some people are fine being alone their whole lives.”

No. They’re just used to it, not because they like it.

Being used to something and liking it are two very different things.

Me? I’m not the kind of person who rises after endless failures. I’m not someone who’s “used to it” either. Even though I tell people, It’s okay, I’m used to it, the pain doesn’t hurt as much anymore,—that’s not true.

I lie.

I camouflage my pain. I make myself believe I’m fine. People see me laughing, smiling, joking, saying I’m fine. But is that what I really feel? No. I’m just faking it. Pretending I’m okay.

But really—who in the world can fail again and again and truly be okay with it?

There are moments I just want to give up, disappear, quit everything. Waking up every day with the feeling that I’m worthless to others, betraying myself with all the “I’m fine” lies, suffocating in stupid routines that never erase the sadness.

Yes, it takes time. But time feels too long, too painful. Waiting for healing feels unbearable. Each day feels heavier, scarier.

Even crying has become hard. I no longer cry watching sad shows. I just feel this tightness in my chest, but the tears won’t fall. Why? Because I’ve been suppressing my emotions for too long. I told myself I can’t cry every time I fail. I told myself I must not look weak in front of others. It’s not your first time failing, get over it.

But here’s the thing—why does it always feel like my “first time”? Like the pain of failing never lessens, never evolves into second, third, or fourth chances. It’s always like the first cut.

Still, I keep trying to appreciate what I’ve done so far. I keep telling myself trying is always better than quitting. I’d rather fail after trying than fail because I never had the courage. But in the end, the pain still feels the same.

The what-ifs eat me alive:

What if I studied harder in high school so I didn’t need SBMPTN, and I got into Medical School through SNMPTN?

What if I didn’t waste time and pushed myself harder in college?

What if I never told people I was going to try again?

What if I never tried at all and just let fate decide?

What if. What if. What if.

I must look like the most ungrateful person in the world.

But no.

I’ve never been ungrateful for what Allah has given me.

I am thankful. I’m relieved. I’m still breathing.

I just… want to keep trying. That’s all.

And yes, I feel stupid for not succeeding, for not being accepted, for always failing.

You’re a fool when you’re not accepted at medical school.

That fool is me. Not you.