“OW!”

I yanked out several more hairs than I meant to as I tried to pluck the silver strand that was glaringly obvious (to me at least) on the top of my head.

“Man, how am I already gray, I’m not even 30!” I lamented. I ran my fingers through my hair and spotted several more silver buggers, eventually deciding I had to leave them if I wanted to have enough hair for a ponytail. Now, friends, maybe I sound a little dramatic, vain even. I know my worth is not dependent on the amount of melanin in the cells that make up my locks. So, this post isn’t about my foray into hair dye and beauty products (no one, I mean NO ONE, wants me near their head with a bottle of hair dye). Rather, I’d like to talk about mental health in the face of a high stress career, even though that’s probably not the cause of my grays.

Anyways. I have always been an anxious little thing, ever since I can remember. I used to cry myself sick for the first month of third grade because I had such bad separation anxiety. I had trouble with field trips, sleepovers, new people and places. I like to think I have a better handle on it now, especially after the years of therapy I have had, but the anxious undertones show through occasionally. It usually manifests itself as poor sleep and eating habits, which I am actively working on. It is triggered by many things: the unknown, the high stakes situations I face on a daily basis, the exhaustion after 80 hour workweeks. The first day of my inpatient rotation, I came home at night and laid awake panicking for hours, staring at the ceiling and thinking ‘I’m a BAD doctor.’ Now, I have worked myself to the bone getting to this place in my career. I deserve every letter after my name. Rational Nikki knows that I’m a GOOD doctor; I am kind, I am patient, I am smart. But, I would be lying to you if I said there weren’t days when I thought, What if I can’t do this? Honestly, on the worst days even the ‘what if’ goes out the window, and I’m left with I can’t do this.

It’s funny, isn’t it? The lies we tell ourselves, when anxiety and self-doubt take hold? You may have heard of “imposter syndrome,” and let me tell you that concept is very, very real in my line of work. At one point or another, all of us are faking our confidence. I won’t speak for everyone, but when I walk into a patient room and see their oxygen sats falling on the monitor, or a blood pressure of 60/30, or see them pulling at the ribs as they struggle to breathe, I can usually pull it together enough to appear cool, calm and collected. I am not. My heart is speeding up and I am sweating bullets on the inside. I haven’t been doing this long enough to be able to look danger in the face and trust myself to handle it. But here’s the thing…I am doing it. At our program Christmas party a few weeks ago, one of my seniors gave me a mug that says Dr. Nikki…you’re totally doing it! It makes me smile every time I look at it, because I really needed that reminder. In the face of anxiety, fear and doubt, I’m doing it anyway, and man that feels good.

So, friends, I pose this question to you: What would you do if you weren’t afraid? Or anxious, or doubtful, or any of the other things that kill confidence? Think about it. Now, DO THE DAMN THING. If we wait until we are totally ready, or feel totally in control, life will pass us by without any meaningful actions. Acknowledge imposter syndrome whenever you feel it, but don’t let it hold you back. I haven’t mastered it yet, but I am learning how to talk back to my anxiety. Build an arsenal of reasons why you deserve to be where you are; use them when you feel the lies creeping in. I CAN do this, and so can you.