I have English degrees. Maybe you gathered that from my writing. And I love creating new worlds in my novels and sharing my poetry with you. But both sides of my brain have always been hard at work. I haven’t figured out the magical marketing combination to write full-time, and poetry, even the best and greatest poetry, doesn’t have a huge audience.

So, I was working in IT in addition to writing when I was attacked. But here’s the thing about IT work, no one calls you unless things are already broken and they are upset about it. And it doesn’t matter if you had anything at all to do with the breaking. Whoever answers the phone gets the full force of anxiety, aggravation, and sometimes anger. And after my attack, I couldn’t handle the noise of it all–constant phone ringing, constant talking–or the people who were taking their frustrations out on me. On top of that, I worked with toxic people who had already given me every reason to leave before my attack.

So, my decision wasn’t difficult. I already knew I would rather be dead than spend another minute with PTSD at that job. My blood pressure dropped twenty points in a week after I quit. The job was literally killing me.

The difficult part was finding the energy to explore alternate career paths. I felt like my life was over, and I spent days, weeks, and months hiding from noise and everyone. But I learned new things about myself. I was no longer squeamish after going through hell and no longer so empathetic that I cried with everyone. I could do hard things now. The premed path I almost took before looked possible now.

I started talking about going back to school, prepared to justify it and fight for myself. But I didn’t have to. My family and friends and random acquaintances all showered me in encouragement and convinced me I could succeed before I began. One of the things I wish I had known before was the power of “and”. We ask kids what they want to be when they grow up, like it’s just one thing. I started asking my kids, “And what else?” I was already an author, an IT worker, and a volunteer rescue officer. Becoming a doctor, author, artist isn’t really a stretch.

I’m in my third semester back to school now for a biochemistry degree with a premed concentration. It cuts into my writing time, but I am not giving it up. And now my scifi novel game will be next level. You’ve probably noticed that my poetry has a science flavor as well. I’ve found metaphors for daily life in the principles of chemistry and biology. I don’t view art and science as mutually exclusive, and I am lucky to live in a community that adores science-y art.

If your career isn’t working after a trauma, I’d advise you to quit and explore what you almost did instead. It’s changed my life for the better.