I’m not okay.
I haven’t been for a long time now. I’ve white-knuckled my way through every crisis for basically my whole life, but a person can only push through on sheer will for so long before something has to give.
When I was a brand new nurse, I was homeless, washing my scrubs in the sink and hoping no one would notice they were still wet when I walked through the employee entrance.
When someone who was supposed to love me and take care of me put his hands around my neck and shook me against a wall, I went straight to my 12-hour night shift and pretended like it didn’t happen. Until the bruises on my neck and the tightness in my throat made pretending impossible.
I got out. But getting out isn’t the end of anything. It’s the start of cleaning up everything that got broken along the way.
For the last year and a half, every time I’ve managed to put out one fire, another one has started. My house has been one thing after another. There are legal matters I’m not able to talk about publicly. And through all of it, I kept showing up to work like none of it was happening.
I can’t keep doing this.
It’s too much for one person to deal with, and my mental health has reached a point I can’t keep ignoring. I really need help right now, and for the first time, I’m actually letting myself ask for it.
I’m taking a leave of absence from work for a while. I’m hoping this is finally me giving myself some grace to process everything that’s happened, everything that’s still happening, and give myself the chance to put my life back together.
You’ll probably be seeing me post more regularly while I’m away from work, partly because I still have bills to pay, but also because writing and creating have always helped me make sense of the world. I appreciate everyone who has continued to support me and shown me kindness through all of this.
I’ve never felt like I was allowed to just stop. I’m giving myself that permission now, and I’m going to take full advantage of it and get better.