What am I even doing...

I reset this blog last year in September, and here I am again, coming in late. I guess it isn’t too bad. It’s been a little under a month since my … last post? I really need to get back into writing. I remember when it used to be my outlet while I was spiraling through life. But then again, I didn’t have too much time to write anyway. After spending the past couple of years in school, I was overwhelmed by homework and lectures. It felt odd to listen to music during my breaks (when my brain would allow it). I felt like I had to be “on” at all times.

I could benefit from going back and listening to lectures, though. I did lose access to my Osmosis subscription, but whatever. At least I know I’m not the only one who isn’t working as an NP right now after graduation. I’m finally closing in on the end of my employment here as an RN, and I am almost as excited as I was when I was getting my DD214.

This clinic almost made me quit the healthcare field. I have never been surrounded by so much negativity, laziness, and foolishness before- and I’ve been in the military, serving alongside 18-year-olds. Luckily, the floor nurses made it bearable. They are the ones who really kept me sane and helped me get through it all. I’m sad I’ll be leaving them. I wish I could bring most of them with me. But it’s time to grow up and be a big girl provider… I guess.

Well, another catch up to do.

It’s crazy that I reactivated this account back in September 2024, but I’m just now getting back into blogging. I guess an entire catch up is overdue.

I’ve moved to Washington and we’ve decided to settle down as a family, for now. We bought a beautiful house on a greenbelt, and foggy mornings with the sun peaking through are becoming one of my favorite things.

Maverick is a rambunctious five year old with all sorts of talent. He’ll talk your ear off if you let him. He’s got the craziest stories and is not afraid to tell a few fibs (and admit to them right after) to keep your attention. He breakdances with Massive Monkees, he just won Most Valuable Bboy at an event, and he won’t stop dancing for anyone.

We have a new dog, her name is Megumi, and she’s an American Akita. She’s crazy, loving, and can be very overprotective. She’s still learning to keep her teeth to herself and tends to pick on our big mama, Okami. We’ll set her straight though…

Sean and I are happily navigating life as we figure out the next steps now that I’ve GRADUATED with my FNP degree and I am officially board certified! Pending any job offers, I am currently trying to maintain my sanity at my current job. I definitely feel like this place has driven me back into dark spaces of my brain, but I refuse to go down without a fight.

I’ll figure my life out eventually. I do miss writing…

It's been awhile...

It’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything. It almost felt like I didn’t need to write anything down and I didn’t need to express what I felt through writing. But I won’t be letting myself go down that route again. I refuse to turn around and lose the progress I’ve made with my mental health. I did not fight my way out of depression through extensive treatments, medication changes, and ongoing therapy just to have a group of people kick me back down. I refuse.

I don’t even know how to write about anything yet, but I’ll find my voice again.

Homeless woman struck on I5 Northbound

That’s what I imagined the title would be if an article were written about her. I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know her background story. It wasn’t the kind of patient death I was used to. I typically know why my patients code, or why they pass. I usually know the background story of their life, and I get to know them. But this one hit me differently in the heart. I didn’t know a single thing about her. I don’t even know if she was homeless, but looking at her disheveled clothing and overall appearance, it was unlikely that she had access to a home.

It was my first day of work and I was driving on I5 North, right before Tukwila when I saw her body get struck by the van in front of me, and flip into the adjacent lane. Luckily no one else had hit or run her over. I pulled over as quickly as I could when I realized that it was not a jacket that flew out of a car. I ran back with my stethoscope to check on she was doing. I checked her heart rate, her pulse, and watched her take in agonal breaths. (death breathing).

Luckily someone pulled up with a first aid kid that had gloves, and I checked her body for any obvious wounds. The wound that I knew would cost her her life was the one directly to the back of her head where she struck concrete. Her hat laid next to her filled with gelatinous red goop. Her black messy hair tangled around the wound. It wasn’t looking like anything was going in her favor. I stayed with her while someone was on the phone with 911, awaiting paramedic and police arrival. Another nurse was with me watching her breathe. We kept yelling to “stay with us,” “it’s going to be okay.” I kept providing sternal rubs to try and keep her awake. Nothing came from her mouth except froth. I tried to check her capillary refill but her fingernails were so blackened, like she had been cold for so long. Every moment that passed, my heart broke a little more.

This woman with no name and no story was dying in front of me, surrounded by traffic instead of family. Surrounded by strangers and not friends. By the time I was handed a police report for my statement, the paramedics had secured her to a stretcher, and I watched her be taken away. I cried and I shook as I watched her leave. I would never know the outcome, but I knew deep down inside that it would be hard to bring her back from a head trauma that severe. Her pupils fixed and dilated. Gasping for breaths.

The image haunts me at night. The image plays in the back of my mind as I drive down the freeway. My eyes scan the street for where her blood was now washed away by the PNW rain. People say I was meant to be there in that specific moment, for her. Some people say that I could’ve been the thing between life and death. But the only thought I have left of her is her image and her blood stain on my white sweater. The only thing I have for her, is my prayers that wherever she is, she’s at peace, and hoping that all the people are right about her being okay.

The last thing you are is alone; help end the stigma

I have been posting a lot more lately, and what I’ve recognized is that there are so many people out there that feel the way that I do. It really sucks to know that so many of my friends are also experiencing feelings of depression, anxiety, and self-doubt. It hurts me so much to know that. But here’s the thing, we can build community in all of this. You need to know that you are not alone, and it’s proven through those who like my posts and those who have the bravery to comment their feelings and thoughts. So if there’s so many of us that experience these things, then why is there such a great stigma? I don’t know either. I know that there are some things that we should stop joking about and saying to each other though, and here are some examples.

“Everyone has bad days, you’ll have better a better day tomorrow”

Having a mental illness is more than just being sad or angry or feeling a passing sense of anxiety. It’s an imbalance of brain chemistry that requires therapy and/or medication for the person to feel a sense of normalcy. It leaves people at a higher risk for physical manifestations like tachycardia, high blood pressure, panic attacks, and even suicidal ideations. It’s more than just a bad day; every day is a battle.

“All you need to do is be positive”

I’ve already said my piece on toxic positivity and how it isn’t helpful or conducive to those going through therapy. It’s more than just having a positive outlook. Sometimes you can’t help but feel the dread of life weighing down on your entire body. It’s feeling hopeless that nothing can get better. It’s feeling guilty knowing you’re “so blessed” but you still feel this way. The symptoms can be debilitating and a positive outlook won’t change that.

“Did you forget to take your meds today?”

I wish someone would say this to me, but in a way where they’re genuinely concerned that I forgot to take my medications. I take a total of 5 medications, 3 of which I am maxed out on dosage. Psychiatric medications are nothing to be joked about since they are carefully monitored when given. They can’t be stopped cold turkey, since the pain of withdrawal and being sent into a downward spiral are so high. They can be a lifesaver to those who are experiencing depression, anxiety, or other forms of mental illness, and should only be used by those who are seeing a provider.

“Why are you always so stressed/anxious?”

It’s not that we want to be stressed and anxious, we have no choice to be this way. Anxiety and anxiety disorder are so different. Healthy anxiety can be a response to an issue that arises but is quickly resolved with logical thinking and reasonable support/solutions. Anxiety disorder is something that you live with constantly. It shows up in things like obsessive compulsive disorder, panic attacks, C/PTSD, and other disorders. It’s something that can only be helped by therapy and medication use.

“You aren’t strong/You’ve got to be stronger”

WOW. NO. Just DON’T EVER think that you are weaker than people because you are suffering from a mental illness. Mental illness does not discriminate on who it effects. As proven through those who are successful like good ol’ Robin Williams (rip) who have committed suicide. It does not mean that you are weak. It means you are strong enough for being able to endure such hardships and still get through life. It means you are able to reach out for help when you know you need it. And even if you haven’t reached out for help yet, you’re strong enough to still be here. It’s a chemical imbalance in your brain that you can’t help, and for you to be here still, I commend you friend.