Jacklyn P.
Photo provided by Jacklyn P.
If you’re reading this, I hope you pause for a moment and recognize that you are not alone in how you feel.
Medical school can leave even the strongest and most resilient people questioning their worth, their abilities, and their future. It has a way of making exhaustion, self-doubt, and anxiety feel like daily companions. What I want you to know is that these feelings are not a reflection of your strength or your potential; they are part of a demanding system that often forgets to honor the humanity of the people within it.
When I think back on the hardest moments of my training, what stands out is not the exams I passed or failed, but the times I felt disconnected from myself. The moments I forgot that my identity was bigger than my performance in the hospital or on a test. Learning to reclaim that truth: that I am a whole person first, and a physician-in-training second, changed the way I coped. I stopped measuring my worth in the hours I studied or the grades I received, and instead started asking: Did I take care of myself today? Did I reach out to someone I love? Did I give myself permission to rest?
Medical school will always be demanding. There will always be another shelf exam, another rotation, another deadline. But within all of that, there must also be space for you. Space to rest, to breathe, to laugh with friends, to call your family, to step outside of medicine and into life. Protecting that space is not a weakness; it’s a strength. It’s what allows you to sustain yourself for the long journey ahead.
I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I’ve learned that balance doesn’t mean doing everything at once. It means knowing when to say no, when to set boundaries, and when to be gentle with yourself. The habits you build now—the ones that honor your mental health—are the ones that will carry you through residency and beyond.
If you remember only one thing, let it be this: you are worthy of kindness, especially from yourself. Medicine needs healers who are whole, not burned-out versions of themselves. You belong here, not in spite of your struggles, but with them. And every time you choose to care for yourself, you are also choosing to care for the patients who will one day depend on you.
Jacklyn P., Fourth Year Medical Student
Several studies have revealed that medical students, physicians, and healthcare professionals experience mental health symptoms at rates significantly higher than the general population. Stethos[Cope] is a chapter of IfYoureReadingThis designed to help medical students and professionals cope with the unique stressors of medical training and change the narrative of mental health in medicine.
To read more letters and interviews from students, and to learn more about mental health in the medical community, visit the Stethos[Cope] home page.