It is hard to believe that a year ago today, I boarded a shared ride bus for the first time in my adult life. I was startled by the beep at a half hour earlier than the estimated pickup time that I was given the night before by the call from the transportation office. I would soon no longer receive those calls and adapt to being ready. I would also learn that it is perfectly acceptable to sit in my living room and wait, that the driver would beep their horns when they arrive and if I would not come out, they would radio dispatch to call me, it would be a series of learning curves that I would learn to manage and accept.

The preparation to get to the point where I would even accept the idea of transitioning to shared ride after nearly two decades of having transportation being provided by the vans of day service seemed impossible. It was talked about years prior, but never came to fruition. However, circumstances arose that made it a necessity. It did not help that I had an explosive meltdown that caused my last van driver to quit, although to some extent it was not totally my fault.

Even though the change was happening, I was unable to see how much better it could be for me and  the potential it could provide for me. All I could do was play the blame game. The day services director, staff not caring about my needs, the list goes on and on. When one of the staff let it slip that it could be a possibility, I became angry and was furious. I wanted to quit my job, stay at home and go around my city dumpster diving at local businesses and frequenting community pantries and meals. I just couldn’t fathom riding something that I was led to believe for many years had issues.

Through de-escalation and discussion with one of the staff, I was able to see that making the switch could provide opportunities for sustaining day services as well as promoting more independence on my part. I began to accept the fact that making the switch would be a reality, yet I was angry. I was angry at some of the staff who did not consider my needs or that of my fellow members. I believed that they were only thinking about themselves without realizing the entire scope of the situation.

As I boarded the bus that day, I eventually made small talk with the driver and went along my way just as I did in the van all the years prior. There were some adjustments that I had to get used to in the process, such as picking up other passengers and the variation when I come and go from places, but I adapted quickly.

A few months after the initial transition was made, I was informed that I would be financially responsible for transportation to and from work, unlike continuing transporting to and from day services to my workplace. I was already so used to the shared ride system that I was able to make the switch a month ahead of the target.

Eventually, I utilized when needed the medical portion of shared ride, using it for blood draws on the way to work and the occasional need for an appointment when my mother cannot take me, which has came in handy. I would say that even though I was the most educated person in the system about the system, I have let go of the resistance to make the transition and am now starting to let go of the hatred that has been long embedded from when that initial decision was made. Without knowing it, it was the best decision that was made because in times previously when I had to deal with other issues, I often wanted to quit my job and isolate, however I have learned to let the hatred go and work towards living life as much as possible. I have rekindled relationships with staff that I was previously against for a very long time and life one year later couldn’t be any better.