My story

Hello wide world of inter webs. This is my first attempt at a blog. I’ve never had the urge to write anything or share anything with others, but my inner psychologist is telling me this may be a good thing for me. It’s been a very trying time for me recently. My wife of 5 years and life confidant of 14 years recently told me to move out. The last 9 days have been tumultous ones for me filled with despair, drinking, confusion and self reflection. Its hard to do all the self reflection in your head…its a mess of disparate thoughts with yourself as the only arbitrator. So I thought I’d put it in writing and see I can make any sense of this.

Where do I begin….. I love my wife. We have known each other since we were 12 years old and, just about, we have been together since then. We’ve been married 5 years and, in my eyes, we had a really great marriage early on….the honeymoon years. I was really my best self with her. Nothing was more important to me than this love, this person.  Not a career, not other friends, not my parents…just her and us. We’d often daydream of where in the world we could move to,  a beautiful place where money didn’t matter and we could just live for ourselves and the beauty around us. We were romantics, dreamers.

After graduating college around the top of her class, my wife had a tough go with her engineering career. She lost 2 jobs in 5 years and this began affect her self esteem. A small piece of my happy-go-lucky wife was lost. Its hard to tell someone not to attach too much self worth in a job, especially in one that you lost to circumstances out of your control. But its hard to really put yourself in those shoes, if you haven’t gone through it. I had a great job making more than enough money for us to be happy, so money wasn’t the issue. My wife wanted to do something meaningful with hereself; I’ve always appreciated my wife’s ambition. So during this downtime of hers, we came up with the crazy idea of trying a field in medicine, dentistry rather. At 30, she’d be at the top range of her class, but the idea of this career appealed to her very much. We had been married for less than a year, when my wife lost her job. Did we really plan out what this would entail? Probably not nearly enough. We thought about the outcomes, not so much about the process.

When my wife got accepted to dental school, her confidence skyrocketed and I began to see glimpses of her old self again. This made me happy and it was great for our relationship. How great the rest of our lives would be if we froze that moment for eternity, a life built on love for each other buttressed with job satisfaction and financial means.

Our initial plan was that I would continue to work in Hometown, where I had a good paying job and, after getting my bonus in January, I would move out to Schooltown. We figured we’ve been together for so long that we could make this work. We knew someone else who went through the same exact thing and made it work. Granted neither of us were the best when it came to communicating over the phone, myself probably more so.

Here I am going to rush through the next 2 years, as I will try to reflect on that later… but basically, I decided to stay one more year at my high paying job. It was a good job and I could continue to financially support my wife. My wife was spending most of her time in the library or with study groups, and I thought we could make it work for another year with the goal in mind of getting there during her third year, her clinic year, when things supposedly got better. In January of Year 2, after getting my bonus, I quit my job. My wife was in the midst of her hardest semester and suggested to me earlier that perhaps it would be better if I move in after the summer, so that she could complete her 2nd year, distraction-free, and study for her board exams which she was taking in the summer.  For me, I viewed this as an opportunity for me to take a mid-life, pre-family sabbatical. I was discontent with my desk job and thought some time off to recharge and reflect would do me well. I took 6 months off and traveled. However, over that last year and a half, a lot of issues had been building between me and my wife.

In late August, I moved to Schooltown. It was tough because we still had a lot of open wounds in our relationship that we didn’t address. She was too busy in school and didn’t want the added stress of a “real-talk” and the argument it may bring. However, at the beginning it wasn’t bad. We were both happy to have each other those first few days. And so for 2 weeks, we kind of lived in this bubble. She was now seeing patients at school and I was in this new town twiddling my thumbs trying to figure how to get started on my own life here. My stay ended quickly though, when on that Friday I felt jilted. To tell the story quickly, my wife had told me earlier that week that she would have some sort of faculty dinner on Friday that would go from 7-10pm. She would be real busy the following week and unfortunately it seemed like this obligation would take all her free time for the weekend. I always hold out a little hope that we can squeeze some together time on Fridays or Saturdays. Those days are important to me. Without any word from my wife, I waited until 1am when my wife finally got home. I was upset, concerned and confused. She later told me that in fact she had made up the story and in fact went out to hang out socially with some new friends. I was really hurt and did not want to talk about it right away, as I was so hurt. Already feeling alone in San Antonio all week, I felt more alone. I then make matters worse by drinking to find solace. Drunk and still upset, my wife comes in to find me kicking a ball against the wall. She takes the ball from me. All reason is lost now. I ask for the ball back and when I don’t get it, I smash some plates on the ground. We both retreat.

The next day I get an eviction notice. Our arguments have scaled too much and she is scared of me and wants me to leave. She is hurt by my reaction and I am hurt by her deception.  She wants a break. With no one apologizing, I leave….crestfallen.

How did things get to this? Who is at fault here? Does it really matter? Where do I go? How can I cope? How can I learn going forward? Where can I get help?

This led me to scoping out the internet. Had other med school/dental school students gone through something similar? There aren’t too many real stories out there. That led me to creating this blog, to putting my thoughts on paper, to thinking this through… imperfect as it may be.


My letter to you

You hurt me deeply. I don’t know where to start. I’m so lost for words. I’m scrambled. All I know is that it hurts a lot.

It hurts that you deceived me. The way you lied about having a dinner with your faculty was so easy for you. I believed you wholeheartedly and I only caught you because I texted one of ur classmates, otherwise you would have kept the lie. You mentioned this GPG dinner several times during the week convincingly and I believed you. Then to find out you deceived me in order to meet up with another classmate of yours. Why? Are u interested in someone else? It’s not even that though, but the facility with how you lied to my face. That was so deceptive. And why? We were doing good. I was waiting patiently for you at home dressed up, thinking that maybe we could spend sometime together that night after not spending any time together during the week. You kept on saying how busy you were going to be and instead of wanting to spend those few available hours with me, you lie to me and meet up with someone else at a bar until 1 am and then fabricate some lie how you were with your classmates going to the faculty dinner. Oh that hurt. Initially on Friday, before I knew about the lie, what hurt was that I was there waiting for you around 9. You said the dinner would go from 7 – 10, so I thought a professor dinner can’t run that long and maybe we could spend time together when you got home. I was dressed up and cleaned up waiting for you. Remember too, that I was waiting the whole week for Friday night in order to spend time with you. Here I am in San Antonio, lost, without any friends, without anyone, trying to figure things out on my own. I spend all week alone, a lot of it in the apartment, with no interaction. I wait for those hours when we can do something together. I came here for you.

So there I am 9pm….ok maybe it’ll run until 10pm…10pm…11pm…nothing. No word from you. I kind of find this inconsiderate that you wouldn’t call me to give me a heads up that you’re running late……midnight….now my concern changes and I think this is very odd that a faculty dinner would go this late. I call you 5 times and send you text messages and no response from you. Now I’m worried for you. I text 2 of your classmates to see if the dinner went long and to get some reassurance that you’re ok.. I didn’t hear back from them. I figure ok, if I don’t hear or see you by 2am, I am calling the police. You get home at 1:15am and tell me the lie that you were with your classmates having drinks. Put yourself in my shoes there. That hurt. I was waiting for you, not just that night but all week. You get home and show ZERO remorse. I am just crestfallen. Here I am trapped in San Antonio in this apartment all week, by myself, with no one, trying to figure things out…..and my only lifeline has just deceided to go spend her few free hours of the week with her classmates (supposedly). I am hurt. Its worse because you show no concern. Now I have no one. I don’t know what to do or where to go, so I go sleep in the car.


The next day I continue to live this agony as you provide no explanation. I come home and you show little remorse. Maybe you don’t put yourself in my shoes. I am reeling. My life revolves around you. All I do is think about you. I come home and you don’t really care. You make one attempt to come and talk, but the conversation begins with clichés and not real concern or emotion. You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong. I am hurt and I don’t want any part of you, if you don’t show me something real. And you didn’t. So I shelled up. And then like I’m just another little thing on your checklist, you just leave me on the side, ignore me and go on about your other tasks. I’m knocked down on your priority list. You’ve done this often and it hurts everytime. I always wait for you to come to me, lovingly, to voice delicately how important this relationship is to you, how you love me, how you are really sorry about what you did and mostly sorry for how I can see I hurt you so much.

….but no…you do nothing of the sort. Instead I think you callously wait for me to make a move and say something, when its you that hurt me.


So you do nothing and this sentiment in me starts to build. Luckily, that day I decide to go out and actually have a good day walking around San Antonio. I’m able to momentarily separate myself somewhat from this pain. Then I come home and I’m faced with the reality once again and still I get nothing from you. You seem to be waiting for me to apologize for something????


And then just as I’m about to fall asleep, you come into the room and drop the bomb, that you really didn’t go to a faculty dinner last night, but rather went to have a secret date with someone. WHAT!? Huh?? I’m just so, so confused. Hurt. Why would you lie to me? And then the second thing you said, something like, and because you texted Ryan and Andrea, now this is gonna spread like wildfire and everyone in my group is going to know about this. So callous. No remorse. You basically just stabbed me in the heart repeatedly. Then you start talking about how you were meeting with someone else to talk about our relationship and then it’s just too much. There is an emotional void here. I cannot take it. I am spinning. I tell you to leave the room.

Why would you do this to me? Why would lie to me? Who is this person who is consoling you? Why do you need consoling after I came to San Antonio for you and was looking to start anew? We had a good few weeks. Now were you making this up too? I can never tell with you, what your bullshit is and what the truth is. But MORE THAN ANYTHING, the way you came into the room and just showed no empathy to me, before and after you delivered this news to me. That hurt. Again you left the room, and didn’t come back and pushed me back down the priority list of your tasks.


Meanwhile, I am reeling. I am in so much pain. With no one. Trapped in this 10×10 foot room. I have no one. My heart hurts. My head hurts. I begin to grieve again and my coping mechanism is alcohol. What else do I have to go to? I can’t talk to anyone,. I have no where to go. I need to slow my heart rate down, because I am going to have a heart attack. That’s what happens when I need a drink. My heart is just racing and I need to slow it down. So yeah, I drank and I grieved and I drank and I grieved more. How do I healthily process what just happened? By talking it out with you? You’ve shown already that you don’t care about me. I am completely trapped and I cannot just compartamentilize it and move along like you. All I do is think about you and it swells my heart. So I continue drinking. I need ways to release this trapped and building emotion in me, so I begin kicking the ball in the closet. Then you finally appear, but no your concern is not for me, it is about the noise I’m making and that I may damage some of your precious stuff. Instead of console me, you come and provoke me by grabbing and taking the ball. You take it because you say I’ll break something. Again all about things with you. I swear your possessions matter more to you, than the actual person. So I can’t take this lack of concern and in my frustration I break some plates.

Now you finally have something to grasp at here, something to defend yourself, something to turn this whole ordeal around and make it about yourself now. Now you are scared and think I am going to hurt you because I smashed a few plates. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have drank and shouldn’t have broke those plates. Poor decisions in the heat of the moment.

The next day you come and tell me that you are scared of me and think I should go home. By now, its lost on you on how you left me at home until 1am by myself worrying about you. It’s lost on you how you lied to me for the whole week to spend some time with some stranger doing who knows what. It’s lost on you how you continued on with your studies the next day, with me visibly upset right next to you, like nothing happened. This is all lost on you. Now all you have on your mind is how I smashed some plates and got drunk…..drinking because I was hurt by you.

And then you come in and wonder why I won’t talk. You say, “well won’t you at least say sorry”. Its too much. We are just way too far apart here. And this is how it goes.

I know these last 2 years have been tough, but if you think they’ve been tough on you, think about how tough they’ve been on me:

  • I know your challenge is a physical and academic challenge. But you are doing something. Despite how hard school is, its school. You are learning something, making friends, challenging yourself daily. Me, I was discontent with my job. When you left, I was left alone. I don’t have any new friends to make. My friends are few and I would spend all my time with you and not them. So, my new world was working in a cubicle, mostly by myself from 9-5, to going home by myself. You can say you were by yourself too, but you weren’t because you were with people all day. Classmates, study groups and most of all you were busy with a singular goal. That fed you.
  • Our conversations on the phone quickly turned into you venting to me about your day. I became your soundboard. More than ok. I was ok being a person who listened you out. That can be helpful. But I came to realize that you never cared to hear about my day. You rarely asked me about my day or really wanted to hear me talk. When I had problems, you were not the listener for me.
  • 2013 was also a tough year because of the knee surgery I had. It was a long 9 months of surgery and recovery and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t be my active self anymore. Now instead of finishing work and playing basketball or working out to keep myself busy, I had to come home and did nothing. Also I gotta say, it did hurt me that at the beginning when I had the surgery, when I couldn’t get around and barely move, you never came and visited me. Instead I soon came and visited you in crutches. Remember I came and went to that Halloween party with you with your classmates.
  • It also hurt when you wouldn’t invite me to your class events (formals, classmate weddings) and I would see pictures of your classmates with their significant others. Also, it hurt that you would go to Chicago with Mai and to Austin with Mai, when with me you, you would tell me that you were too busy to do anything. Since you started dental school, you never came and visited me one time in Houston. I came to San Antonio every other weekend.


I can go on all tell you about how I hated my job, how miserably routine my life got, about my loneliness, being discontent, depression….But I realize that you never put yourself in my shoes. You think you are making the great sacrifice, but I lost a lot over these last 2 years.


There are not many things I look for in a woman, really there aren’t. I could live humbly in the outside world, but all I need is someone to love and someone that loves me. I need someone who is empathetic. If you initialize the love, affection, concern…..I will give it back a hundred fold. You know I’m a hopeless romantic deep down inside. That’s all I need. I can do the rest. But I don’t get any empathy from you. I feel a coldness and it hurts. You made me very happy and I was my best self for many years. At the beginning, it really felt like all we needed was each other. I supported you and consoled you when you lost your job. I helped you and fully supported the idea you had to go back to school. I researched DAT books for you, helped you with your essays, provided encouragement when you didn’t get a good DAT score on a practice exam. I could see how good this could be for you. I never thought about myself or for how this would work out for us. I wanted it for you and I was 100% on board.


Anyways, I’m sure you’ll compartamentalize this, reprioritize, and move on quickly. You never had much vested. Now you want me to go. Where do I go? What do I do? I moved to San Antonio for you. I guess that’s for me to figure out.