My big, ugly Mid-life Crisis

A friend of mine recently asked me to share the story of how and why I decided to quit my day job to pursue happiness and my dream of writing (or as I refer to it, my mid-life crisis).  It’s a long story, with countless ups and downs and it is raw and unfiltered………….

I’ve always wanted to be a writer.  It’s been my lifelong dream, but a dream I was always too scared to pursue.  There is so much room for rejection, failure, zero income initially and no stability.  So at 46 years old, I had never attempted to make my dreams come true.  Sadly, lack of self-confidence always held me back from trying to fulfill something that was such a defining part of my soul (I wrote articles and stories in my head and in journals daily for decades).  If only I could go back and talk to my 18 year old self and share the wisdom that comes with middle age.   As the mother of teens, I preach on a daily basis that they need to follow their dreams, pursue their passions, explore the world and live life to the fullest.  I realized that my words to them weren’t matching my actions.  How could I expect them to do those things if they watched me go to a job every day that wasn’t fulfilling and where I didn’t get to use the best parts of me?     

I had spent 20 plus years building a career in healthcare and I have to admit that it had been good to me, for the most part.  At times, my career allowed me to travel the United States; I had the privilege of observing surgeries and working with some of the brightest people on both the clinical and business sides of healthcare.  I earned a good salary which allowed me to provide for my family well and I had excellent benefits.   But in recent years, I was miserable in a way that I struggle with articulating.  At the end of 2018, I was chronically stressed, sick all the time and an absolute terror to my family when I came home every night.   I have never been good at managing stress.  I let it overwhelm me, to the detriment of all around me, and especially to the detriment of own well-being and my ability to find happiness in my daily life.  And at that point in my life, the stress was all-consuming, from every angle.  I knew that it was time for a change and a BIG one at that.

But perhaps I should back up a little and share the events that got me into this stressful mess and ultimately led to my decision…………

In 2016 I had a bizarre accident in which led to osteomyelitis, a rare bone infection.  I was bed bound for months while the doctors made attempt after attempt to treat and diagnose me.  By the time they reached a diagnosis (four months later), I had been in excruciating pain for months and part of my spine had been completely destroyed by the infection. (in my doctors’ defense, what happened to me was truly a one-in-a-bazillion situation so everyone involved in was totally baffled but that’s a story for another time).   I was hospitalized and eventually underwent a complex spinal surgery to save my mobility.  Nearly simultaneously, I experienced a life-altering event as I discovered my birth family (I was adopted when I was an infant).  It was a confusing, sad and ultimately heart-breaking reunion of sorts.  That story didn’t end well which left me reeling and devastated.  In all my lifelong hope and anticipation of meeting my birth family, I, naively, never once imagined it wouldn’t turn out like a happy Lifetime movie-of-the week.  I spent the entirety of 2016 in physical pain and emotional & mental anguish.  I missed out on an entire year of not only my own life, but my childrens’ and my husband’s.  During this time, my incredible husband was tasked with being both mom and dad to our children, my fulltime caretaker and maintaining his own career.  Our family was exhausted beyond the point of comprehension or explanation.  During my recovery at home, I learned that my son thought I was going to die during the height of my illness.  He’s not a huge talker (he was 12 at the time, so trying to get a 12 year old boy to verbalize is pretty tough even under the best circumstances).    My biggest prayer during my illness was “please don’t let my children lose their mother”.  If I whispered it to God once, I whispered it a million times.  I had never been more terrified in my life.  I tried to hide my pain and my fears from the kids as much as possible so to learn that he was thinking the same thing and didn’t express it to anyone was too much to bear. It still leaves me breathless when I think of the worry and heartache he carried alone for all those months.  And then at the end of 2016, I watched one of my best friend’s young husband lose his battle to cancer, leaving my friend and their two children crushed and grieving.  It is a gut-wrenching feeling to see people you love hurting and know you can’t do anything to help ease their pain.

When I returned to work, I was so physically fatigued that I had a hard time making it through the day at the office.  I had no energy and no stamina, and my entire body ached; all I could think about was when I could lie down next.  I was told it could take up to 2 years after my spine surgery for me to feel “normal” again (whatever normal is).  I plodded through most of 2017 just trying to make it through the workday and get home to my family.  Trouble was, when I got home, I had nothing left to give them.  Or myself.  I was depleted in every sense of the word.

I was working for a company that I had long admired and respected.  I had the most phenomenal coworkers anyone could ever imagine.  Coworkers who have become close friends.  Coworkers that, when I was so sick, came to the aid of my husband and children with food and prayers and support, time and time again.   Unfortunately, my role there quickly morphed into something I didn’t recognize and wasn’t allowing me to use my strengths or granting me any professional growth.  So despite my awesome team, going into work felt like going into battle.  As with so many companies, this one was operationally challenged which led to my department taking on roles we were unfamiliar with and ill-equipped to handle.  As 2017 became 2018, the company culture disintegrated and morale hit an all-time low.   Accusatory emails flew between departments like machine-gun fire at all hours of the day and night.  And if it wasn’t emails, it was texting.  ALL. THE. TIME.  We were in a full blown crisis but weren’t working smart.  I remember chatting with one of our HR team members, a fellow I deeply respected, about the state of affairs.  He asked me if we were accomplishing anything by enabling the chaos; by sending emails late at night and early in the morning; by stressing ourselves to the point we didn’t eat during the workday or sleep well at night.   It was a great question.  And the answer was no, we were not, generally speaking.  I certainly wasn’t.  Company-wide we were simply passing the buck in hopes that the next recipient would somehow solve the problem.   About that same time, I had lunch with one of my team members.  She was also someone for whom I had deep respect and admiration.  Her children were grown and during our conversation about our families she mentioned that she always felt that it was more important to be present and available to her children during their middle and high school years (versus the younger years) because they can make so many bad decisions as teens and need so much guidance with navigating big feelings and moments.  Those two comments from those two different people started the wheels in my head churning, with a huge urgency.   

I’d like to say it’s been all roses and sunshine but that’s not the whole truth at all. 

The good definitely outweighs the bad.  I have cherished this time with my children – for the first time in their lives, I have been home with them in the afternoons.  I was able to pick up my son every day from school for the majority of his freshman year.  Those daily 25 minutes in the car led to some of the best conversations we’ve ever had.  My increased presence in our house daily has allowed them to come to me in their own time with concerns or for big conversations instead of me trying to force them to talk in the evenings during our short window of time together.  I also got to spend an entire summer with them for the first time!  We went on walks and I took my son fishing; we made mid-afternoon ice-cream runs and stayed up all night watching movies.  I’ve cooked more dinners than ever before (to the shock and delight of everyone in our house); I’ve been able to have lunch with my girlfriends and attend school events I wouldn’t have otherwise been able to.  I’ve been able to do more charitable work with my church parish.  I’ve spent more time in nature (which my doctor consistently tells me is vital to my physical and mental health).  I’ve decided that I want to go back to school and pursue Psychology so I’m now a college student again at the age of 46.  And most incredible of all, I’ve started writing.  I took the terrifying leap!  I set my dream in motion.  I’ve seen my words come to life and tell stories that resonate with people.  I’ve received kind words from people across the globe after they read something of mine.  Yep, the GLOBE.  I have followers in countries all over the world.  I still can’t believe that!

But in the spirit of transparency and keeping it real, I have to admit that there have been really ugly parts to these past 9 months.  I quit a job that paid me very well.  I’ve been called irresponsible (by myself and my loved ones) for doing so.  While my husband supports my passion, he also thinks I’m bat shit crazy for leaving a stable job, and the loss of income has stressed our marriage at times.  We choose to send our two children to parochial schools which is quite expensive.  Our son’s high school tuition alone is thousands more than state universities.   We have radically changed our lifestyle since I quit – no dining out, no shopping other than the necessities, and probably the hardest of all, we have stopped traveling to a large extent.  I don’t make a dime from my writing at this point.  I don’t create and sell items or services.  That will hopefully come one day (I’m working on a novel) but honestly, I just want to write for the pure joy of writing and connecting with others.

The social isolation also messes with me something fierce.  I am a raging extrovert so imagine going from working alongside people every day to being home alone.  During the school year, I’m here at home with myself most of the time and it is SO much harder than I ever thought it would be.   So I talk to my dogs.  A lot.   It’s been a complete 180 from what my entire adult life has been.  Recently, after going about 3 weeks in a row without dressing up, my daughter (who is accustomed to seeing me in high heels with full hair and makeup on the daily) told me it was time for a style intervention.  She was quite serious about it.

As far as the writing goes, it’s different than I what I imagined.  The creative process isn’t one you can turn on at 8am and leave at 5pm.  Some days, I have writer’s block and can think of absolutely nothing to create but some days, I’m on fire – my fingers typing at a furious pace trying to keep up with my mind.  Also, I can write article after article, but if I don’t successfully get that writing in front of people, I will never create an audience.   So I have ventured into an industry I know nothing about.  I’m trying to build a niche Instagram community (my Facebook attempt wasn’t so successful and neither was my initial strategy of ‘I’m going to write about anything and everything that strikes my fancy’).  Everytime I hit “publish” I feel nauseatingly vulnerable.  Sometimes only 3 people read what I write (those people are usually my parents and husband) because the market is so oversaturated with bloggers and I’m the new kid on the block.   It’s incredibly frustrating to invest time in something to realize that no one sees it.   I’ve had to learn about search engine optimization and analytics and techy things I still don’t understand.  I have to market myself and post pictures of myself posing, which still feels strangely awkward to me, but is necessary.  Everytime I log onto my website, I see something that could be tweaked or edited.  It’s ever-evolving.  Somedays (ok, a lot of days), I feel so defeated I cry.  But failure is part of the process.  It’s totally ridiculous and unrealistic to think I’d be a huge success 8 months into this.

So you are probably asking, if I had it to do over, would I still have quit my day job?  Absolutely.  I’m proud of myself.  I’m proud that I showed my kids that it’s never too late to pursue a goal.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  I was brave enough to tackle a dream that has been on my mind Every.Single.Day since I was a teenager.   I ran from that comfort zone of a job like my life depended on it (and it kinda did).  I will never, ever regret that decision.  Since then, I have healed further.  I have learned how to manage daily stress better and I have put into place an intentional family culture that will help us through these crazy teen years.   Will I return to a “regular” day job shortly?   Yes, because that’s our reality.   Our lifestyle decisions (primarily our children’s education and passion for travel) require a dual income and I desperately need the daily, social interaction.  I miss having intelligent conversations and debates with colleagues and I miss certain aspects of the healthcare industry.  But this time around, I’m being so selective about what I do – I want to do something where I use my skillset to help others, where I can make a difference and feel joy in my everyday.  I’m totally ok with saying no to a chronic stress position even if it means earning less.  I realize that no career is stress-free but I’ve also finally figured out how to detect a company’s culture during the interview process and to do thorough research to make sure I’m not jumping back into a 5-alarm fire. 

My primary purpose on this earth at this moment is to be the healthiest, happiest mom I can be.  Anything less means my kids may not be healthy and happy.  If I have learned anything throughout my recent journey, it’s just that.  As cliché as it sounds, life is short.  We can’t get time back and bad stuff happens to good people.  So take control of your own life and future.  Chase your passions, live your dreams, define your goals.  If something is making you unhappy or negatively impacting your life, CHANGE IT.  NOW.     Will it be hard?  Yep.  Will it be worth it?  Definitely.  Will your future-self thank you?  I guarantee it. 

I know now that I’m capable of writing and sharing stories with others.  I’m confident that I’m good at it and that I will only improve with time.  I realize that this ability to convey emotion through words and to tell stories is one of my unique gifts from God and He intended for it to be shared with others purposefully. 

I’ve been through a metamorphosis over the last several years.  I’ve emerged stronger and wiser and infinitely more grateful.  And I because of those lessons, I know that I’m strong enough to face anything that comes my way.   Onward and upward, my friends.