Today I am falling apart a little.
My NaBloPoMo project is an ongoing string of pre-scheduled posts that I’ve been working on behind the scenes. But this post is me… today.
I had coffee with a resident friend of mine. We commiserated on the challenges of our lives as first year obstetrical residents in a rotating “surgical internship.” She is seriously considering switching out of the program because she isn’t sure if it’s really what she wants to do in her life.
I told her about my issues and struggles – most of which I’ve buried and kept inside and haven’t faced because I figure it’s just easier that way. I think about switching out of my program everyday: Not because I hate obstetrics or because I love something else more, but because if doing obstetrics means I have to live this life, right now, I’m not sure it’s worth it.
I am lonely. So lonely. I have superficial, and obligatory conversations withe people on a daily basis, but I have no one to just “talk to.” My husband is a grump. He doesn’t care to listen to my problems because he doesn’t understand them. I know he just wants me to get over it. So we don’t really talk about anything.
Oh, except we do talk a lot about our deteriorating 4-year-old. The one who is throwing bowls at our nanny and hitting his brother because he wants to and who can’t even focus enough at his soccer practice to know which way he’s supposed to kick the ball. Yeah – that little adorable boy who needs his mommy… his mommy who is never home (or who is home and is just trying not to completely fall apart).
We argue about our Nanny. He doesn’t like her for probably 1000 reasons that I can’t even begin to list. I think he’s being oh-so-f*cking annoying about this whole situation. But, as it stands, we have no choice but to do it. And he expects me to fix all the problems.
The only good thing that I can see is that my Husband is happy at his job. That’s great for him (and I can’t imagine how much grumpier he would be if he hated his job), but all it means for me is that leaving here is not really an option. If I didn’t have to worry about him (and the rest of my family), I would think about moving back – maybe even doing something else; at least then I’d be back in my community. I am so unhappy right now that I could even suck up my pride and go back to my old program with my tail tucked shamefully between my legs and beg them to reconsider me (even though they didn’t want me to begin with). But none of that is an option, because it’s not “just about me.”
So, where does that leave me?
It leaves me struggling, alone, and with no place to go. It leaves me to decide if all of this is worth it now, and in the future. I leaves me feeling like I’ve done everything wrong.