This month marks one year since I quit residency and stepped off the path of traditional medicine. So much has happened in the last 365 days of my life. In September 2021, after 28 years of living to make other people happy and hiding the parts of me I thought were bad, I decided to get off that train.
When I quit residency, my parents panicked and tried to get me to stay. It resulted in us not talking for several months. I bought a shuttle bus to convert into a home on wheels, and moved in with my boyfriend to save money while plotting my next steps.
When we started dating in August, my gut had told me something was not right with this relationship. But I’d waved it off as just feeling weird that I’d never dated a guy in a wheelchair before.
The problem wasn’t that he was disabled, but rather that he was a narcissist with control issues. We only dated for something like six or seven months, but it felt like years. And not in a good way.
After Lola and I moved in with him to save money, I essentially became a live-in caregiver and maid, even though he had aides. I was so mad that one of his aides would come in the evening and just nap on the couch, while I cooked and did laundry. I had not planned on leaving my job to become a domestic woman.
I felt so trapped. Every time I made plans with my friends back in Rhode Island, we’d have a fight that would end with me deciding to scrap my plans and stay with him. He would make me feel guilty for wanting to do my own things and would comment that he couldn’t just get in the car and drive somewhere.
Things unraveled the longer I stayed there. I’d tried taking breaks periodically, but then he’d make digs at me for needing too much “me time” and being “moody”. Towards the end he couldn’t stop yelling at me, and I had to laugh when he yelled at me that he wouldn’t yell at me again.
Like me, my poor dog was miserable when we lived there. My ex had a dog and we had to keep the two completely separated because they were both reactive. Lola regressed and had accidents in the house multiple times a day.
My suicidal ideation came back a few times then when I felt like I couldn’t do anything right. I felt like I sucked at being a girlfriend, I sucked at being a dog mom, and I was absolutely miserable despite having quit residency. We ultimately broke up in March, right before a trip I had planned in the Caymans for my 29th birthday.
I decided to cancel our Cayman plans and fly out to visit my parents in Spokane, WA. During that time, I had the opportunity to visit my grandfather’s gravesite in Helena, MT. He had passed away from COVID when I was in surgery residency in 2020. I was unable to attend his funeral service in August 2021, so this provided me with some well-needed closure.
It was nice to visit my grandmother and grandfather’s gravesites and pay my respects. I never really knew my grandmother, but my grandfather and I had a lot of ups and downs. When I was a child, he was a complete jerk to me. But over the years, we grew closer and I came to appreciate him for who he was, warts and all.
While I stayed with my parents, we had many difficult conversations that helped heal our relationships. We didn’t see eye to eye about everything, but we reestablished respect for one another. It’s hard for parents and children alike to settle into new relationships once everyone is an adult.
When I came back to CT in April, I lived with a woman I’d met at my co-working space to figure out next steps. I knew I couldn’t stay in CT– it was too expensive to find my own place, and I needed to make another fresh start. My parents told me they would be in SD for the month of May and my dad was willing to help me work on my bus there.
I decided to pack everything up and drive my bus and Lola to Sioux Falls, SD. Three days before I left, I got bronchitis and was told I still had to be out of my living accommodations. I broke down crying two days before my move, wondering how I was going to get my bus packed up, get new tires, and set out by myself when I barely had the energy to sit on my floor and pack my suitcase.
After I dried my tears, I reached out for help, believed it would work out, and pushed through. I didn’t know if we’d stay in Sioux Falls or not, but it felt like a good next step. After I got to Sioux Falls, it was time to make the next step. I decided to move in with my parents in June so that Lola would have a good home and I could work on healing.
In July, I got COVID, and once again my mental health dipped. It’s been hard to keep reestablishing myself over and over again in a new place. First Fresno, then Providence, then Norwich, and now Spokane. I’ve moved four times in the last two years after having lived in South Dakota for 27 years.
But each time I move, I’m getting stronger and more resilient. More of my self-limiting beliefs fall away. I’m beginning to trust myself and look inward for answers rather than looking outside.
It’s been one heck of a painful year, with many ups and downs, but I wouldn’t trade it. If this is the price I have to pay for freedom, I will pay it. I’m not going back to making myself small just to make someone else more comfortable. It’s time to shine, baby.
I’m not sure why but this site is loading incredibly slow for me. Is anyone else having this problem or is it a issue on my end? I’ll check back later and see if the problem still exists.