The decision to leave veterinary medicine wasn’t easy, but it became a necessity for my mental health and overall well-being. As a neurodivergent veterinary assistant, I encountered challenges that went beyond the usual stress of the profession. The fast-paced, high-pressure environment often conflicted with my needs, leaving me overwhelmed and unheard. While my love for animals never wavered, I realized that staying in this field was draining my energy and sense of self. This post digs into why I made this choice and what it taught me about prioritizing health over a career.

Team in veterinary medicine examining a Pomeranian dog at a clinic

Understanding Neurodiversity in Veterinary Medicine

In veterinary medicine, neurodiversity takes on unique significance. The profession thrives on the diverse talents and perspectives of its workers, yet can also be incredibly demanding, requiring adaptability that may be incompatible with the needs of neurodivergent individuals. Understanding these differences helps us create more inclusive practices while valuing the strengths neurodivergent professionals bring to the field.

Prevalence in the Veterinary Profession

How common is neurodivergence among veterinary professionals? The numbers are hard to pin down, but it’s estimated that a significant portion of veterinary staff are neurodivergent. While no definitive data exists, experts in the field suggest that traits like hyperfocus, creativity, and problem-solving—often associated with neurodivergence—are well-suited to veterinary careers. For instance, workplaces that support curiosity and understanding for neurodivergence help their teams thrive.

Many neurodivergent professionals also face challenges that stem from workplaces not recognizing or accommodating their needs. In the often high-pressure veterinary setting, tasks like keeping precise schedules, handling sensory overload, or interpreting social cues can create additional stressors.

Hi I'm Amber I have always been weird, but now it's finally explained

Turns out my brain's been running on alternative software this whole time—explains a lot, honestly.

Now I'm hyperfocused on all things neurodiversity (and other things like crafting and Stranger things and more)

My mission? Building a community where we can collectively figure out how to navigate this chaotic world without completely losing our marvelous, misunderstood minds. Because let's face it—society wasn't exactly designed with our operating systems in mind.

Let's connect, laugh about our shared experiences, only we understand and explore how our unique cognitive styes are remarkable. After all everyone else is just boring.

Interestingly, neurodivergence may even be underreported. Diagnoses for conditions like ADHD or autism often occur later in life or remain undisclosed due to stigma. I was recently diagnosed at 42 with various neurodiverse types. Most of which I don't disclose due to social stigmas.

This makes open dialogue more essential than ever. I have never felt comfortable approaching management about issues until I declined so badly I was forced to reach out. By creating a safe space to discuss neurodiversity, the veterinary profession can take steps toward better inclusivity. For example, practical strategies like modifying intake forms or designing sensory-friendly environments help bridge gaps.

My Journey as a Veterinary Assistant

The role of a veterinary assistant is often misunderstood. While it may seem like a dream for animal lovers, the reality is much more complex. It isn't all playing with puppies and kittens as most people think. Except now it is for me as I have transferred to dog walker and pet sitter. For me, the veterinary field was caring for animals and connecting my passion with a career that felt meaningful. But as a neurodivergent individual, my experience came with its own struggles, shaping how I saw myself and the profession.

Myself and my veterinary medicine colleagues standing in a veterinary treatment area with kennels in the back wearing hats for Christmas.

After receiving my Bachelor's In Animal Science Degree, I went to work at my first veterinary clinic. Sadly I was let go stating I couldn't keep up. I was offended at the time but now newly diagnosed and looking back I can see the issues. I moved to a different clinic and couldn't stay due to serious micromanagement and trust issues. And the place was falling apart and had terrible business practices, all of these issues all too common in the profession.

I then moved into my role as a veterinary assistant at ASPCA animal poison control working in toxicology. For the first couple of years I really enjoyed my position the office was really nice and had spaces that were beneficial to sensory issues. I got to work from home the first year due to Covid and remained at home the rest of the 4.5 years I was there.

In this position you were required to be on the phone the entire time dealing with emotionally draining calls one after the other. After Covid people seemed to change and were even more emotional, neglectful, disregarding medical advice, and just downright awful to deal with. Unfortunately like everything else in veterinary medicine it was toxic. I held out as long as I could but went on medical leave after a severe mental breakdown.

I had several warnings up until the big one but if the breakdown hadn't happened I often wonder if I would have ever been diagnosed. It is worth it to get answers and help if anyone reading this is on the line about pursuing diagnosis.

So why did I choose veterinary medicine?

From the moment I could form words, animals were my world. I had ALLLL the animal books, and I visited Seaworld in Cleveland OH when I was 10 and I said I wanted to live where the dolphins are ideally in rescue and release programs.

Clearwater Marine Aquarium (CMA: also the place where dolphin tale was filmed) in Florida does just that for more than just dolphins. I’ve visited it twice and feel at home there. When I was little I wanted to help any animal I found, I felt an instinctual need to help. The idea of turning that compassion into a career was exciting. I wanted to make a difference, no matter how small. Veterinary medicine gave me that chance even if it was unexpectedly temporary.

The appeal was a mix of science and heart. I saw it as a way to blend problem-solving with empathy. Watching veterinarians diagnose and treat gave me a deep appreciation for the skill and patience it takes. And the connections vet staff made with owners. I knew I wanted to be in that environment and collaborate with veterinary professionals and connect and educate pet owners.

Woman at clearwater marine aquarium wearing a mask kneeling beside the new dolphin pool feeding the rough tooth dolphins.

Daily Challenges

The reality of veterinary work tests you—both mentally and physically.

  • Emotional fatigue: Seeing animals in pain or discomfort daily takes a toll. Handling euthanasia cases is heartbreaking, no matter how long you’ve worked in the field. And when I later dealt with unpleasant and irrational people on the phones that wanted help but didn't want to receive the help I was providing really took its toll.
  • Physical demands: The work involves lifting and restraining pets (sometimes aggressive pets), standing for hours, and staying alert to avoid accidents.
  • High-pressure moments: Emergencies can occur at any time. Balancing numerous tasks without mistakes becomes a constant juggling act. Working in toxicology is it's own kind of pressure from both the company and the clients call into the hotline.
  • Interpersonal strain: Communication isn’t always smooth. Whether it’s navigating distraught pet owners or relaying critical details to the vet, communication can be difficult.

One of the toughest aspects is the lack of resources. When staff is spread thin, everyone feels it. There’s a sense of responsibility that weighs heavily, especially when things don’t go as planned. Learn more about these challenges in the vet assisting field.

How neurodivergence affects interactions with animals and clients.

As someone who is neurodivergent, I’ve always processed the world differently. This shaped my interactions in unique ways, both with animals and the people around me. With animals, being neurodivergent and attuned to non-verbal communication, this made connecting with animals easier for me. Whether it was calming a scared dog or reading a cat’s body language, I found that I could often understand what they needed before their owner even realized it.

However, the human-side was trickier. Social norms can feel overwhelming when juggling customer service and fast-working medical environments. Misreading clients’ emotional states or losing track of conversations (and what I was actually doing) in loud, busy clinics made me second-guess myself. Explaining complex medical terms in client-friendly ways didn’t come naturally, and over time, that self-doubt (hello imposter syndrome) started chipping away at my confidence. I did over come that doubt quite a bit when I was working in toxicology which was fortunate as there are some big words to break down and sometimes even less fun to say like intussusception or medication names.

High angle of crop unrecognizable female owner giving high five to brown Labrador Retriever

Despite these struggles, I found little victories. Helping a nervous owner through a challenging diagnosis or turning a fearful pet into one who trusted me were moments that stood out. I also enjoyed connecting with pet owners and making them laugh. But with the unrelenting pace of the job, these moments started to feel like fleeting wins amid a storm of stress.

If you’ve ever wondered how neurodivergence shapes one’s career, this is it: moments of connection, followed by waves of exhaustion. It’s a balance, though not always an easy one to maintain. I honestly never got good at maintaining it. Supporting neurodivergence in high-stress roles could lighten the load, making careers like this more sustainable.

Through it all, my journey as a veterinary assistant was filled with lessons about resilience, creativity, and what it means to navigate spaces that weren’t built with me in mind.

Reasons for Leaving the Field

While veterinary medicine is a meaningful and rewarding career, it can also be DEEPLY draining—especially for someone who is neurodivergent. The decision to leave wasn’t made lightly but stemmed from the overwhelming challenges tied to mental health, workplace culture, and the lack of proper support. Here'swhy walking away became necessary.

Burnout and Stress

Burnout in veterinary medicine isn’t uncommon, but for neurodivergent individuals, it feels amplified. The relentless pace, high emotional demands, and intense expectations can lead to chronic stress. Over time, that stress chips away at your mental health

For me, the challenges were constant. There were days I’d leave work feeling like I had nothing left to give, not to my family, my coworkers, or myself. And many days toward the end where I sat with my phone in my hand contemplating calling the crisis line. I never had to and was able to work through it. The mental fatigue didn’t just stay at work; it followed me home (even when I worked at home), disrupting sleep, focus, and peaceful moments. And it kicked me down so hard I couldn't do anything I enjoyed outside of work anymore.

Burnout drains energy and clouds your ability to find joy in the work. The sense of accomplishment I once felt caring for animals started fading, replaced by a never-ending loop of exhaustion and self-doubt. And I wasn’t alone. Studies highlight that veterinarians and support staff are at a high risk of stress-related conditions, like depression and anxiety, with burnout playing a major role. Sadly veterinary medicine is a one of the top professions that have high suicide risks. Several members of vet staff across the country are lost each year to this. Changes need to be made to avoid more talented and beautiful souls from leaving this place because they feel like it is their only option to escape the stress and demands of the field.

Lack of Support and Understanding

The veterinary field, while compassionate toward animals, often lacks the same empathy toward its staff—especially those with unique needs. Simple accommodations, like quieter spaces or clear communication, could have made a world of difference but were rarely offered or even considered when I worked in clinics. I had to go to my car to even get a break on my lunch time. I was often interrupted to come help with something real quick, which was never quick. And communication was awkward and difficult.

Work Environment Issues

Neurodivergent individuals thrive in environments that recognize their strengths and create systems that empower them. Unfortunately, I faced the opposite. Supervisors rarely understood the importance of flexibility, and coworkers sometimes dismissed concerns as excuses. This lack of understanding left me feeling isolated, even when surrounded by a team.

The work environment in veterinary clinics can be chaotic, which is challenging enough without additional stressors. The sensory overload of barking, crying animals, loud conversations, and ringing phones became unbearable. Add to this the emotional labor of dealing with pet owners’ grief or frustration, and the environment becomes almost impossible to navigate.

While there are programs aiming to address toxic cultures in veterinary medicine, the progress is slow. The lack of systemic change in many veterinary workplaces makes turnover inevitable for those who can’t adapt to their strenuous demands. Read more on addressing workplace challenges in veterinary clinics.

For those considering this field or already in it, these challenges might resonate. Without structural changes, the profession risks losing talented individuals who simply need a more supportive and inclusive environment to thrive. I have already seen this first hand when 24 veterinarians resigned in 14 months before I finally succumbed to the pressure.

A tortoiseshell cat being prepared for vaccination in a veterinary clinic.

Reflection and Lessons Learned

Leaving veterinary medicine was a difficult decision, but sometimes growth requires stepping away to reevaluate priorities. The experience taught me valuable lessons, some of which I didn't fully grasp until I had time to reflect. How am I moving forward?

Personal Growth: Realizing I can do hard things even if just for a brief point in my life

Walking this path reshaped my perspective. I discovered strength I didn’t know I had while also learning the importance of setting boundaries. Letting go of a career I was passionate about wasn’t a sign of failure, but an act of self-care and clarity, while also gaining a new path of self awareness.

Takeaways from my journey:

  • Resilience isn’t endless: Even the strongest need rest and support to keep going.
  • Self-advocacy matters: Speaking up about my needs helped me grow more assertive, even when it was uncomfortable.
  • Growth is fluid: Sometimes, success doesn’t look like climbing a ladder. It looks like taking a step sideways to find balance.
  • Laugh have fun: Enjoy the good days and embrace the bad days for however long you are able to endure it. Connect with owners and if you have the skill utilize situationally-appropriate humor to put pet owners at ease.

These lessons aren’t unique to me, and they might resonate with anyone navigating a challenging career.

Advice for Neurodivergent Individuals

Navigating the workplace as a neurodivergent individual can sometimes feel daunting, but you’re not alone. Here are a few pieces of advice from my experience:

  1. Know your limits: Start by identifying what drains you and what energizes you at work.
  2. Ask for accommodations: If something isn’t working, request adjustments. A quieter workspace or structured tasks might make all the difference.
  3. Find your allies: Certain coworkers or managers may be more understanding. Build relationships with these people for support.
  4. Document patterns: Keeping track of situations that trigger stress can help identify solutions or angles to discuss with supervisors.
  5. Self awareness: Get to know who you are and when the going gets tough ask for help sooner rather than toughing it out until later and causing more damage to have to recover from.


No matter what challenges you face, remember there’s no one “right” way to work or succeed. Be unapologetically you even if it is uncomfortable which it most likely will be, even more so if you have imposter syndrome or tend to be a people pleaser. With time it does get better. For me it went away briefly due to the extreme stress I was under. I was drowning and didn't have time to care about other people's feelings.

Future Aspirations

While stepping away from veterinary medicine has closed one chapter of my life, it’s opened doors to new opportunities. I’ve started exploring careers where I can channel my skills and passions without compromising my well-being.

I’m drawn to roles that encourage creativity and flexibility. Writing, such as this blog for instance, has become both a therapeutic outlet and a future profession. Sharing my story with others who feel unseen is a goal I’m working toward every day. I deeply want to help people struggling like me so they never have to feel alone in a dark place again. I also have an Esty shop and am forming a neurodiversity business. I enjoy the flexibility of both and I am also a pet sitter/dog walker which I also enjoy.

Looking ahead, I feel optimistic. My journey might not follow a straight path, but it’s mine to shape. And a straight path is boring anyway right? Whatever comes next, I’ll strive to honor the lessons I’ve learned while continuing to grow.

Prioritizing well-being is always the right choice. Whether you’re in veterinary medicine or another field, advocate for your needs and know that stepping back doesn’t mean stepping down.

Have you faced similar experiences in your career? Share your thoughts—I’d love to hear from your stories.

If You Found This Content Helpful Please Pin One of These Images. 

It would really help my blog out. Thanks so much for Reading.

Similar Posts