Returning to the path.

I discovered the root of my general malaise as of late. As of the last year.

In a piece of synchronicity I discovered the word for it during my GRE studies: Anomie. Instability caused by lack of purpose. And it's not the first time. Anomie motivated me to leave art school, and drifted with me through my first year of Johnson. It abated, quite suddenly, when I discovered the Alternative Medicine program, which I promptly jumped on. The relief, the rush, of following this path was visceral.

Somewhere along the line I took this all for granted. The program seemed like the yellow brick road, and I never considered what would happen when I finished college.

...

A swirling anomie. Like a storm that slowly but stolidly settles in, occasionally lighting me up and leaving me tearful, wondering what I'm doing. It's been a year and a half.

At some point I discovered UVM's Masters Entry Program in Nursing. I could enter with my non-nursing degree, and finish with a Nurse Practitioner degree. It would be a year until I could apply, and that year is coming to a close. I've just taken my GRE's, I'm working up the nerve to ask people to speak for me, and formulating a new essay every day to speak on my desire to return to this path. Every other day I squelch the fear that I'll be left in a coffee kiosk, pining and aching a moment longer than necessary--because I feel that a nurse practitioner should be made of tougher stuff than that.

Bridgid of Kildare