Dear paraclete,

It was sad reading, this news. You have poured your heart and soul into medical school, denied yourself and led a cloistered existence for some greater good in your life.

You're disappointed and depressed by the news. Now it all seems so pointless. You hate failure, in others, but especially in yourself.

You hold yourself to a fearsomely high standard, a standard impossible to live up to, for most ordinary drones, but even for one as overabundantly talented as yourself. There is simply no room for failure in your life's worldview.

If I make it through today,
I'll know tomorrow not to leave my feelings out on display.
-- "It's a Shame About Ray," The Lemonheads

We've conversed many times via the miracle of instant messenger. You've convinced me that I'm not real, that I'm a mere collection of electrons with no real emotional stake in the game. We've shared dark moments, but you've also made me laugh. Despite your situation, you encouraged me when I was blue and helped me when I was down.

Now it's my turn, this mere collection of electrons to encourage you. I've done so privately, sure, but it's time to do so publicly. Hang in there, girl. It's pretty dark right now, but just hang on.

The plain and simple truth is that I - we - love you and grieve with you. Those who know you know how hard you've worked and how badly you've been crushed by this.

In the midst of this dark time, do not for one minute believe that you are alone in all this. It's a small lifeboat. We've all been there. We've all seen our hopes and desires get crushed by reality, fate, kismet... you choose the name of the grinding wheel. We know that ache, the grief, the loss of big dreams, and we grieve with you.

You matter to us. You've come to be a part of our lives. You are not alone. We carry a little bit of paraclete in each of our hearts. We cannot lose you because to lose you would be a little death for all of us.

Navy SEALs start their training at the West Coast facility during Basic Underwater Demolition School/SEALs (BUD/S), a 25 week course that is hell on earth. They repeatedly are ordered to march into 50 degree water for training exercises, a water temperature that shocks and enervates the system quickly. They tremble uncontrollably until they are ordered out, told to take hot showers to elevate their core body temperature to something approaching normal, and then are ordered back into the freezing cold water. It is a moment that makes the strongest men despair. Boat crews do this by linking arms and walking in together. A single person cannot do this, but a unit can. A tightly knit unit is always stronger than an individual.

Ms. Paraclete, you are part of a unit. You are part of something bigger than just you alone. Your friends here on E2 revel in your intelligence, your courage, your strength. We depend on you most of time. So won't you permit yourself to depend on us for just this short amount of time? Link arms with your friends here. We'll walk through the despair together. Together is always better. A tightly knit unit is always stronger than an individual.

We can offer you no words of consolation adequate to the situation at hand, other than the constant litany of: we love you, we love you, we love you... (repeat as needed).

Your internet friend,

iwhosawtheface