This week’s blog post is going to be a bit more personal than usual, but I believe it touches on a part of the student experience that often goes unspoken. I’m currently approaching the halfway point of my 6th trimester, and lately, I’ve found myself dealing with something I didn’t quite expect—a total identity crisis.
The Commitment
After nearly two years of going full throttle in a rigorous academic program, I’ve started to feel the emotional toll that comes from this sustained school commitment. The long hours, the accumulating assignments, and the pressure to succeed slowly chip away at the parts of us that existed long before we stepped into these hallways and classrooms. At times, the journey toward becoming a doctor can also feel like a process of forgetting who I used to be.
In medical or health professional education, we often talk about resilience, focus and discipline—but rarely do we talk about the resulting cost. One of the first things to go when you’re short on time are the things that make you feel most like yourself: your hobbies, your creative outlets, your spontaneous social plans and your quiet moments of reflection. At first, it feels like a small and worthy sacrifice, but after months or even years of pushing these joys aside, the weight of that loss begins to settle in.
This is because we are multifaceted people. Before school, we were shaped by the things we loved—music, movement, art, community, faith, nature, whatever made us feel joy. And yet, those are often the very things that are deprioritized once academic obligations take center stage. We start to operate like machines, forgetting that joy and rest are not luxuries, they define the way we see ourselves and see the world. And when we neglect them for too long, the consequences start to show: fatigue, numbness, disconnection and loneliness.
The Reality
The truth is, the student experience can feel incredibly isolating at times. And there’s no quick fix or easy advice that makes it go away. Many of us are doing the best we can just to keep up. Suggestions like “just study less” or “make time for hobbies” can feel tone-deaf when your schedule barely allows room to make yourself dinner. There’s also such an unspoken pressure in higher education that makes non-academic activities feel like wasted time, even though they’re what we need to stay afloat.
This has been such an overwhelming feeling of the last couple weeks, and in these moments, the smallest acts of connection have meant everything. A short phone call with someone you love, a quick conversation with a classmate who hasn’t seen you, a couple big belly breaths between assignments, or a soft hug from a friend in the hallway can all be the reminders of presence. These micro-interactions offer moments of relief that remind us we’re not alone.
I wanted to write this week’s blog post to reach out and say if you’re feeling the same way, you are not alone. Being so production-oriented is not how we are built to be, and these feelings are inevitable and valid. This journey is so demanding, and while we’re working hard to become doctors, we also deserve to remain in our humanity.
Hold Your Head High!
Let this be a gentle reminder to keep your head high. The parts of you that feel far away right now are still there, and they will be waiting for you to let them back in when you can. In the end, I believe the sacrifice will be worth it, not because of the degree, but because it is shaping us into people who will show up with compassion, strength and purpose.
Always rooting for you all,
Christina Sweiss
Follow Christina’s journey through NUHS’ Doctor of Chiropractic Medicine program.
