Well, that’s it.

I just put my letters in the (campus) mail telling the chair and my advisor that I’m quitting the MPH program.

Looking back, I can see that my problems keeping up with my courses were the first sign of my depression that I ignored, or refused to see for what it was. But now I realize that was when my depression started to spiral out of control, and that my coursework was hurting and not helping my ability to stabilize my mental health.

Part of me feels like a quitter. After all, I really only had my practicum to complete for the degree. However, I very well know that the practicum (for a variety of reasons) is the most miserable part of the program, and one that I would definitely be unable to deal with at this point in my life. (All I’ll say is that if I want someone to be mean to me, I’ll go spend time with my mother.)
But the other parts of me see this as a huge weight off my shoulders. For the past couple years I haven’t even been sure that the MPH was even the right program for me. But be that as it may, I have learned a lot from my classes, much of which has served me well not only in dealing with my grandmother moving in with me, but in learning the rules and regulations surrounding Medicare and Medicaid as older family members have had to move into assisted care facilities.

And really, there is no such thing as wasted knowledge. Everything one learns is useful, even if it’s just in exercising one’s brain. Now I just have to leave the brain exercising up to myself, and make sure that I continue to be aware of my mental health, and not let myself reach the depths to which I had sunk for the past two years.

So I’m sad about not finishing the program, but I am also relieved that I no longer have to worry about finishing the program.