Rediscovering Rhythm: Returning to Work, Healing Together, and Reclaiming Strength
This week marked a shift—a gentle but powerful return to movement after a long season of stillness. I stepped back into work for the first time in ten months, and while the pace has been slow, it’s been deeply refreshing. Tuesday was my first session back, and though it felt unfamiliar and even awkward at times, it also felt incredible. There’s something quietly affirming about returning to a space that once held so much of your identity.
I saw just two patients (they’re easing me in with care), and yet that was enough to remind me how good it feels to be “Dr Murdock” again. There’s often criticism around tying our sense of self too closely to our profession, but I’ve found that reconnecting with this part of me has been grounding. It’s a way of saying: this is who I am, and this is what I do. And that feels good.
I’m looking forward to gradually increasing my sessions and settling back into the comfort of routine—a rhythm that brings both structure and peace.
This week also brought a new chapter in my personal life: my husband and I began our first psychology session together. Psychology isn’t a field I’ve worked in directly, so stepping into it as a participant has been enlightening. With our psychologist, we created a timeline—from Florence’s birth, through the decline in my mental health, all the way to the present. Seeing it laid out so clearly was both sobering and empowering. It’s astonishing how much we’ve endured and overcome.
The process of building a narrative around these experiences—of “wrapping it up” in a way that helps us move forward—was emotional, but hopeful. We left that first session feeling like we’re finally beginning to close one chapter and open another. It’s a step toward healing, together.
In quieter moments, I’ve been diving into our book club pick: Elizabeth is Missing by Emma Healey. It’s been on my reading list for a while, and I’m glad to finally be immersed in it. The story offers a poignant glimpse into life with dementia—how memory loss reshapes reality and identity. While I’ve cared for patients with dementia, I’ve never experienced its impact personally. I’m hoping this book will deepen my understanding and empathy. If you haven’t read it yet, I’d love for you to join me.
Lastly, I’ve taken some proactive steps toward managing my weight. The gain associated with my antipsychotic medication has been difficult. I’d hoped to taper off and let the weight come off naturally, but my health hasn’t allowed that. So I’ve joined a women-only gym near home, complete with a coach who keeps me accountable. I’m learning new exercises, adjusting my diet, and—most importantly—reclaiming a sense of control. It feels good to be building strength again.
Interestingly, I’ve already seen a patient using Mounjaro, one of the newer injectable treatments for weight loss. These medications are reshaping the landscape of weight management. While I believe they offer incredible benefits, they also shift expectations and redefine what “success” looks like in this space.
As I step into this new season of rediscovery, I’m reminded that healing, growth, and identity are never static—they shift, stretch, and evolve with us. Whether it’s returning to work, exploring therapy, or reclaiming physical strength, each step feels like a quiet affirmation of life moving forward.
I’d love to hear from you:
Have you ever returned to a role or routine after a long break? What helped you reconnect with that part of yourself?
How do you navigate the balance between your professional identity and your personal sense of self?
If you’ve ever explored therapy—individually or as a couple—what surprised you most about the process?
What are you currently reading that’s expanding your perspective or deepening your empathy?
Have you had experience with weight management—whether through lifestyle changes or medical support? What has helped you feel empowered in that journey?
Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or message me directly. I believe there’s strength in storytelling—and your voice matters here.
Until next time, take care of yourself and keep moving forward, one step at a time.
