As from today, I’ll be trying to display my own original pictures instead of Google Images. It’s better this way and more fun!
Back in 2009-2010, I badly wanted to become a clinical psychologist. Of course, the writer was still simmering inside, but I needed something else… I didn’t want to study writing because I don’t want to be compelled of doing something I love and I feared to stop loving it if I was too much forced into it.
Today, I’m reconsidering this.
Because I recently remembered why I actually wanted to meddle with mental illnesses.
The reason wasn’t to be called ‘Doctor’ or to have money or even because I considered myself as being one of the mad people. No. The primary reason that pulled me into psychology and struggling to remember all the possible names of the various mental disorders was that I just wanted to help.
I could have become a doctor, but I didn’t want to study science in high school and had already opted for languages anyway. So the nearest possible career was becoming a psychologist. I remembered that I just felt so excited to be able to cure, or at least counsel, teens like me who suffered depression, bipolar moods…
Really, this should be the main reason for people to engage in medicine: the power to help others.