It has been 2 months since I left my job.
A job I had both loved & despised, a job that took up almost all of my life, a job that brought me both pains & joys.
It was so hard for me to say goodbye. To my colleagues who became my closest friends at work, to my mentors who have inspired me to pursue my dreams, to my patients I have been taking care of right up until the day I left.
It was such a process. The goodbyes slowly crept up on me, but almost like in denial I brushed them all off saying I still have some time left with them. Until the day arrived and it finally hit me – it’s over. I spent the rest of the evening post shift properly saying goodbye for the last time in my uniform to all my doctors, nurses, allied healthcare members. Some I know I will most probably never see again.
It is a strange feeling – that realisation that you will not see some people ever again, or at least for a very long time. Especially if these are the people you spent almost all your waking hours with working around the clock in tears, sweat, and blood.
My closest friends at work found ways to keep me around even after I left, as did I. I found myself going back to the ward once too many times than I would like to admit, just so I can see them again.
The whole farewell thing lasted a while. And deep down, I know in my heart that this too shall pass. My friends cannot keep missing me, and I have to learn to let go. They will move on with their lives, and so must I.
When I thought the hardest of it all was over, I was hit with the tedious process of moving out of the flat, out of the country. Unearthing one old relic after another in my possession, I had to make big girl’s decision whether or not to keep them or throw them. I’m glad to have you know that I managed to throw out some, gave away some. For a hoarder like me, it was an achievement. Somehow I successfully moved out & moved back to KL. From there, it just got harder.
On the outside, my dad seemed like he has accepted the fact that I am moving countries once again, in search of new adventures. But he sure as hell isn’t kidding me, I know he isn’t coping well with this move. Out of the blue, he will say things like “you’re starting your new life soon, how many more years will it be ‘til we see you again?” Things like this set me off oh-so-easily (yes, I am a big crybaby) and it sure isn’t making this any easier for me. He decided that he won’t be following us to the airport to see us off because he will get too sad and that breaks me. Then again, every little thing breaks me these days. I’m useless, ugh.
Maybe he’ll change his mind, who knows. (He did, in the end. I still cried like a baby at the airport, as expected.)
“You gave me wings to fly.
Now fly, I must.”
I am both terrified and amazed at how far I have come. I have never been this sure of a decision, and I am quite an indecisive person. This is what I want, this is what I have dreamt of. This is the beginning of an end that I have patiently (and painfully) worked towards for two long years.
In this war, the stakes are high. I won some, I lost some.
I may have just about won my way to the next battle, but at the same time I lost so, so much. I lost friends, I lost money, and most times, I lost heart.
I may have just about won the path to my new life, but I believe I may have also lost huge chunks of my past.
And that is the price I have to pay.
But moving on with the rest of your life, starts with goodbye.
So, hello England. It has been a week.