Dear Diary

Te Anau, New Zealand

I have journaled for as long as I can remember. There were some years where I wasn't as consistent, most likely during medical training, but for the most part, I had always seen the value in putting my thoughts to paper. I also love to write. I wrote two books in highschool, and I am often the one called upon to articulate the thoughts of the causes that I champion for my group.

Two years ago, I started to journal on a digital platform. While I love sitting with a pretty book (I am in love with stationary) writing, this medium has helped with compensating for my worsening handwriting and I no longer have to worry about lugging around lots of items. I still have my journals from College by the way, that has traveled with me all over the world. With this digital format I can journal at anytime from anywhere. I have found it interesting to read old entries and see how much I've grown, or even to simply revisit my younger self, go down memory lane etc. One of the things I like about the program I use is that it allows for pictures to be added to the entry, and every once in a while I am emailed an entry that I wrote months or a year ago.

Months ago I shared a journal entry to my blog titled "Dear Diary" because I thought that it was prescient to what was happening on my exit journey. This morning I noticed that I had received an email from my journal app telling me what I wrote on April 23rd last year. Sometimes I ignore these emails but today I decided to read it.

It was shortly after being offered a position at the hospital here in New Zealand. I was reviewing the contract, and was actively making plans to leave.

For some reason, I believe that I need to share it with you:

Tell me

Tell me

that what I want is not too much

Tell Me

that what I expect can be received

Tell me

that I am doing what is right

Tell me

that sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side

Tell me

that it is OK to leave when things look good

Help me to remember the feeling of suffocation that I feel every time I'm in a meeting,

every time I hear and see inequity

every time I am asked to wait

every time I am asked to be grateful for the scraps

Tell me

its ok to be impatient

Tell me

its ok to be dissatisfied

Tell me

that I will soon have my heart's desire

and that my spirit will finally fly

Tell me

that one day, I will have some peace of mind

Oh the difference a year makes. I remember this Dionne. During that time I was still in meetings and on boards and interacting with political leaders and doing advocacy work and caring for patients and I was still heavily immersed in the toxicity that I was trying to leave. I still remember that feeling of desperation that comes once you know that there is a way out and you want to be there and get there as soon as possible. Knowing that I had a way out often made it harder to tolerate the status quo.

Anyway, maybe this will speak to someone who reads this... take from it what you may.