Fixing my tie first, I reached for the doorknob with sweaty hands. I walked into the waiting room, and several pairs of eyes swiveled to look at me. The people were dressed in suits and dresses, looking so desperately clean and clinging to their chairs as if someone was ready to steal them. I smiled weakly and looked away from my competition. My stomach rumbled with apprehension, and I walked to the office to sign in.

The memory of my first medical school interview will always be seared into my memory. The waiting room was filled with an assortment of people. The first-timers, including me, were quiet and nervously shaking their legs. The older ones sat poised and struck up whimsical conversation with the person next to them. Others couldn’t help but fill awkward silence with their voices, while a couple kept walking to the bathroom and water fountain. Important looking people in white coats walked past us, smiling fleetingly and almost pityingly at us. Some of the adults even made a valiant effort to break the tension with funny stories, but nervous, false laughter is what they got in return.

My stomach gave another ache, churning with anxiety and a relentless pressure. There was so much riding on this interview, as this could be the only interview I would ever get. The immense expectations of my parents to get into medical school, especially after my sister did it so easily, was the main dilemma that swirled within me. Also, how about all the people that I told about applying to medical school? My friends, family members, research lab Ph.Ds, professors, and random people who just had to ask the question, “What do you do?” All of these people expected me, a high-achieving Honors College student whose entire family is successful, to get into medical school without a problem.

Recently, I read a New York Times article called “Suicide on Campus and the Pressure of Perfection”, by Julie Scelfo (http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/02/education/edlife/stress-social-media-and-suicide-on-campus.html?_r=2). The article talks about a student at the University of Pennsylvania, Kathryn DeWitt, who battles depression and suicidal thoughts because of the academic and social pressure that pervades her life. She talks about how easily her classmates accomplish things, and even the parties they attend and meals they eat seem better. One Penn senior says, “Nobody wants to be the one who is struggling while everyone else is doing great. Despite whatever’s going on-if you’re stressed, a bit depressed, if you’re overwhelmed-you want to put up this positive front.” The article also talks about the Duck Syndrome; a duck appears to glide calmly, but underneath the water’s surface, it paddles frantically for its life.  

I feel like a duck sometimes, when I’m buried under so much work and stress but I put up that calm, composed demeanor and diffuse any inquiries with a joke or euphemism. I am not nearly at the level of depression and mental state of the student in the article, but I think this issue needs to be highlighted. Our society is so dependent on competition and instills in today’s students to keep running, running until you win or fall over. It is this pressure that causes students like Madison Holleran to commit suicide. Holleran was also a UPenn student who seemed to have a perfect life, shown by the perfect smile she had in all her Instagram photos. Holleran was also part of the track team at Penn, further creating the image of a fulfilled student. It is a shame that a girl with such potential ended her life because she was worn out by the race, tired of the pressure to perform.

I am tired of the race too. During the interview, I was asked what my biggest accomplishment was. Giving it some thought, I answered that my ability to adapt and manage my time had become my best attribute. Over the past couple semesters, taking 23 credits with all my other responsibilities has taken its toll, and leisure time was very scarce. While sitting in class, there was always another assignment, another test, or just another class on my mind (of course, I didn’t say this part in the interview. That would have been bad!). The key to keeping my sanity was to find a simple point of stability or an outlet to channel my frustration. Luckily, I found both. My point of stability was my friend group; they could always be counted on to make me feel better and taught me that it was easier to laugh than cry. On the other hand, my outlet for my frustration was more physical: working out. After I work out, a feeling of strength pervades my body, and I am ready to conquer, tackle, and fight any obstacle that stands before me.

So find your outlet, find your stability before it is too late. I realized very quickly that I will be long gone by the time society fixes itself.