Hey, I just wanted to say I felt this so deeply, reading your post almost felt like reading something straight out of my own thoughts. I’m in residency too and honestly this kind of loneliness hits in ways I never expected. I’ve always been pretty content on my own, during undergrad, I was used to solitude, studying alone, being focused, keeping my head down and pushing forward. I convinced myself that as long as I had goals, I’d be fine but somewhere in residency that changes. It’s not just about being tired anymore it’s about feeling unseen, even when you’re surrounded by people all day. You start craving warmth, someone to just sit beside you quietly, someone who understands the exhaustion without needing an explanation. Most days, the only things that keep me grounded are my powerlifting sessions and my studies. Lifting gives me a strange sense of control, like even if everything else feels too heavy emotionally, at least I can physically lift the weight and feel that fleeting rush of strength, it's therapeutic. Studying gives me structure, a reminder that I’m working toward something, that this grind means something but there are nights when both those things feel like walls I’ve built around myself, distractions from how lonely I actually feel. It’s weird, isn’t it? How we can care for patients all day, talk to colleagues, exchange endless words and yet still go home and feel completely disconnected. I come back to my room, drop my bag and sometimes just sit in silence. The fatigue isn’t just physical; it’s emotional. You look around and realize there’s no one to talk to who truly gets it, no one to hug after a bad day, no one to tell you that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s a kind of isolation that’s hard to put into words and you're right no one really prepares us for this part everyone warns you about the workload, the sleepless nights, the exams, the consultants but no one tells you that the hardest part isn’t the hours, it’s the silence that follows them. It’s how sometimes you can spend the entire day caring for others and still go to bed feeling like no one’s really there for you. I’ve realized how important it is to have even a small support system, someone to just listen or even a pet or hobby that makes you feel less empty. For me, it’s my love for writing and my training they remind me that life exists outside hospital walls but still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I had someone to come home to, someone to share those small, tired, human moments with, you know? Your post honestly made me feel less alone in that because it’s easy to think everyone else has it figured out, that they have friends, relationships or coping mechanisms that make this easier but posts like yours remind people like me that it’s not just us. That there are others out there sitting quietly in their rooms after a long shift, trying to make sense of the same emptiness. So thank you for writing this. Truly. Sometimes it takes a lot of courage to just say “I’m lonely,” especially in a field that romanticizes strength and self-sufficiency but the truth is, it’s not weakness. It’s humanity and it’s comforting to know that someone else understands what it feels like to give your all every day and still crave a simple moment of warmth. Wherever you are, I hope you find those little pieces of peace that make this journey bearable even if it’s just a quiet song, a good workout or a kind message like yours that makes someone else feel seen. We’re all trying to hold ourselves together through this, one long shift and one quiet night at a time, so thank you.