Committed

Hope my room is padded

## The Weight of a Tough Day

Ever have one of those days where you just feel super down? Like the universe is totally against you, and everything that could go wrong, does? It all starts off badly—maybe your alarm doesn't go off, so you wake up late and panic immediately sets in. You rush through your morning routine, feel the time slipping away, spill coffee on your shirt, and leave your lunch sitting on the kitchen counter, which you were really looking forward to. By the time you head out the door, it already feels like you're trying to catch up with the day, as if everyone else is miles ahead of you in some race.

As you go through your day, it seems like trouble is waiting around every corner, ready to jump out at the worst times. You run into a bunch of little annoyances that pile up, each one adding to your already rough day. Maybe you get an unexpected bill that messes up your budget, making your stomach drop, or a coworker is being extra critical, adding stress to your already busy workload. Each thing feels like another stone in a backpack that's already too heavy, making your shoulders slump and your heart feel weighed down.

At this point, you're just trying to keep your head above water, feeling like you're constantly struggling to stay afloat amidst all the negativity. The weight of your worries and frustrations makes it hard to find any positivity or motivation. It's like you're swimming in an ocean of despair, and just when you think you might catch a break, something else happens to pull you back under.

Suddenly, it feels like something just drops a ton of weight on you, and you find yourself sinking, completely overwhelmed. It might be some bad news that messes with your already shaky sense of stability, a personal letdown that makes you second-guess your decisions, or an unexpected run-in with someone you care about, adding even more emotional stress to your already frazzled mind. It’s like you’re drowning in negativity, with waves crashing over you nonstop. Breathing feels harder, and you’re tempted to just give in to your emotions and let the despair take over.

If you’ve never felt this way, I’m seriously envious. It’s a rare gift to go through life without those heavy days when everything feels too much, and the light at the end of the tunnel seems so far away. But if you have felt this, then you get what I’m saying when I talk about what happened to me. You know the feeling of being weighed down, looking for a bit of hope in what seems like an endless loop of challenges testing your patience and resilience.

During these times, it really helps to reach out to others, share what you’re going through, and find comfort in knowing you’re not alone. There’s something reassuring about realizing many of us have been there at some point, that we’re not alone in our struggles. It’s a shared experience that connects us, reminding us that even in our darkest moments, there’s a chance for light to break through and show us the way forward. Getting support from friends, family, or even professionals can be a lifesaver when things get too rough, helping us find our balance and get back to calmer waters.

************************

*************************

It was one of those gloomy days, or at least it felt that way in my head. I was weighed down by recent events, like I was stuck in a fog that just wouldn't go away. Something really intense happened the night before with my oldest son, and it totally shook me up. The details of that night were burned into my mind, playing over and over like a movie I couldn't switch off. I was already in a pretty dark place, dealing with emotions that felt way too heavy. Things were so rough that apparently, the day before, I had been lying in bed for five hours, though I could've sworn it was just 15 to 20 minutes. My husband and a good friend at the time insisted it was much longer. I just laid there, staring blankly at the wall, lost in a mess of thoughts and feelings I couldn't put into words. My friend said she came in and laid with me for a few hours, just being there for me, which was comforting in its own way. I knew she was there, but I was so deep in my own struggle that I didn't really feel her presence, like I was stuck in a glass box, cut off from everything around me.

On this dreary day, I was up against a huge challenge: a big test for my nursing program. The pressure was intense since I'd already failed it once, which was tough to deal with. The program only gives us four chances to pass, and failing again would mean getting kicked out, making all my hard work and sacrifices pointless. The fear of losing everything I’d worked for was like a dark cloud hanging over me, adding to my shaky mental state. It felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss of failure. I tried to focus on what I’d studied, but my mind was so foggy that concentrating was nearly impossible. Every question felt like a mountain to climb, and my heart was racing with anxiety I couldn’t shake. The hours before the test were a blur of dread and determination, fighting off a strong sense of doom.

When I finally took that test, I was overwhelmed with anxiety and despair and ended up failing again. It felt like the ground disappeared beneath me, and I was falling into a pit of hopelessness. The realization hit me hard, like a punch to the gut, and I could feel the tears coming, a wave of emotion I couldn't stop. I think I kind of had a mental breakdown at that point; my sobs were deep and raw, letting out all the pain I'd been holding in for too long. It was so intense that the instructor, worried about me, called the assistant director of nursing to come talk to me. Before I go on, I should say she's not a nice person. I always dreaded interacting with her. So, my mistake in all this was letting something so personal slip out in front of her, a moment of weakness that would come back to haunt me. After what felt like forever, she waited for me to calm down enough to talk, which took longer than I wanted, each second dragging on. Then, out of nowhere, in a moment of despair, I said, "I wish I was dead." I didn't say, "I want to kill myself," or "I'm going to kill myself," but in this situation, that difference seemed unimportant. The words just slipped out, and I saw her face change, a hint of alarm crossing her expression. She walked out of the room while I had my head down on the desk, crying even more, feeling completely defeated and alone, like the walls were closing in on me.

After a bit, people started coming in, and I quickly found out that when she left the room, she’d called the cops about what I’d said, thinking it was a serious threat to my life. Words are everything in life; they can make or break you, and at that moment, I felt like my words had been blown way out of proportion. The fallout from that moment stuck with me for a while, leaving me to deal with the mess of my emotional vulnerability and the misunderstanding that followed. When the police showed up, it was a harsh reminder of how my moment of despair had spun out of control, turning my pain into something surreal and completely disempowering. As they questioned me, I saw the concern in their eyes, but all I felt was deep shame and confusion. I hadn’t meant to scare anyone; I was just expressing how low I felt, and yet there I was, being treated like I was a danger to myself. This misunderstanding felt like another load to bear, on top of the emotional scars I was already dealing with. I realized then that being vulnerable, while human, could sometimes lead to unexpected consequences that could make an already tough journey even more complicated.

************************

Off We Go - My First Police Car Ride

*************************

Thankfully, they didn't cuff me, because that would have been super embarrassing, walking out of school in handcuffs. Just thinking about being seen like that, especially by my classmates, is almost unbearable. I can already picture the whispers, the stares, the judgment following me around. Talk about kicking a girl when she's down. I was so lost at that point, my mind spinning with confusion and anxiety. My thoughts were like a tangled mess, each one pulling me in different directions, making it hard to focus on anything. Little did I know, our first stop was my future workplace, a place I'd eventually work at under much different circumstances. It's kind of ironic to think I'd end up working in a place that once stressed me out so much. Luckily, there were no beds available at that facility. If there had been, I honestly don't know if I could have handled working there after being a patient. The idea of being in that role, after experiencing the vulnerability of being a patient, would have been an emotional rollercoaster I might not have been ready for.

They ended up taking me to the hospital next door, a place I'd only heard about in passing, usually with whispered comments and cautious looks. We've got a few hospitals around here with psych floors, each with its own set of stories and reputations—some good, some bad, all wrapped in a bit of stigma. By the time they got me settled, it was already early evening, and the hospital's hustle and bustle just added to my panic. The buzzing fluorescent lights, the antiseptic smell, and the distant sounds of beeping equipment and urgent conversations were overwhelming. Inside, I was totally freaking out, my heart racing and my thoughts spiraling. It felt like I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, completely off balance.

When we walked in, they took me to the ER, which felt cold and unwelcoming. They put me in a room in the back for psych evaluations, making me feel even more isolated. There was a woman in another room making a lot of noise, her shouts echoing through the sterile halls, constantly reminding me of the chaos around me. I sat there alone for a couple of hours, lost in my thoughts, like I was stuck in a surreal nightmare. I talked to some lady on a TV screen, a faceless voice trying to figure out my mental state, but it felt so impersonal and distant. Then I waited to go up to the place where I'd be staying for a few days, each minute dragging on, filled with dread and uncertainty about what was coming. The idea of being admitted felt like stepping into the unknown, a journey I hadn't planned on, but here I was, about to start a new chapter I never expected.

************************

Home Sweet Home

*************************

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I found a room. I felt such a huge relief, like a gentle wave after a long, tough journey. My stomach was growling like crazy, a constant reminder of how hungry I was. The anxiety started to ease up a bit now that I knew I had a place to crash, but the hunger was still there, reminding me of the exhausting day I'd had.

Every minute felt like it made things worse, turning waiting into torture. The smell of food in the air was both tempting and cruel, teasing me with what I desperately needed. I could almost see a hot meal, steam rising and filling the room with its comforting smell, but that was just wishful thinking. My throat was dry, and I was so tired it felt like I was carrying a ton of bricks. It was like my whole body was begging for food and a break from the relentless hunger that just wouldn’t quit.

Mustering up all the courage I had, I decided to ask someone—anyone—for help. Asking felt like a big deal, a leap into the unknown with the risk of being turned down. With my heart pounding and my hands a bit sweaty, I approached a staff member, my voice shaky but firm as I asked if there was any chance of getting something to eat and drink. It felt daunting, like I was standing on the edge, about to dive into a sea of uncertainty.

But my hopes were quickly crushed when I found out dinner was already over for the night. That news hit me hard, leaving me a bit shocked. The idea of waiting for a snack later felt like forever, making things even worse in an already tough situation. Frustration mixed with my hunger, which was constantly nagging at me. It felt like the universe was against me, laughing at my attempt to find comfort in a simple meal.

Standing there, dealing with my disappointment, it seemed like the world kept moving while I was stuck on the sidelines, just watching my own life. Doubts and despair started creeping in, suggesting maybe I wasn't meant to find comfort or happiness in this new place. The lively atmosphere around me, full of laughter and clinking cutlery, only made me feel more isolated. Still, deep down, I knew I had to push through, find a way to handle this tough moment, and keep hoping that both physical and emotional sustenance would soon be within reach. I reminded myself this was just one part of a bigger story, a temporary setback that would lead to better days. With that in mind, I decided to keep looking for a solution, stay determined in my search for nourishment and comfort, knowing every journey has its challenges, and every challenge teaches a lesson.

************************

Yay for the Angels Out There

*************************

Luckily, a kind worker overheard my situation and decided to bring me a little snack to help me out. This simple gesture was a bright spot in the tough situation I was in, reminding me that there’s still kindness in the world, even when things seem rough. She came over with a warm smile and handed me a granola bar and a bottle of water. As I took them, I felt really grateful, like this small act brought some warmth to my otherwise chilly surroundings. It was a strong reminder that even in tough times, there are people willing to lend a hand and show empathy, proving we’re not alone in our struggles. Her kindness, while small, had a big emotional impact, showing that simple acts of compassion can really make a difference for someone going through a hard time.

The room was really cold, both in temperature and vibe, but at least I had it to myself. The stark white walls felt super sterile and unwelcoming, making me feel even more isolated. The fluorescent lights were harsh and made the place feel even more clinical, almost like they were designed to take away any sense of comfort. This coldness wasn’t just physical; it was like it was part of the room’s essence, stripping away any hint of comfort you’d hope to find in a healing space. The tiny bed in the center looked uncomfortable and far from the cozy refuge I imagined. Its thin mattress sagged in the middle, and the scratchy blanket didn’t offer much warmth or security, making it hard to find any peace or rest.

As I looked around, I felt a wave of sadness hit me. The room was so bare—no photos, no decorations, not even a plant. It felt more like a temporary stop than a place to heal or get better. The distant voices and occasional footsteps in the hallway were constant reminders of the busy world outside, a world I felt more and more disconnected from and desperately wanted to get back to. Every minute seemed to drag on forever, with each tick of the clock reminding me that I was stuck here. I missed home, where the walls were covered in memories and the air smelled of my favorite meals cooking, so different from the sterile vibe around me.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I held onto the snack the nurse gave me. That small gesture of kindness felt like a ray of sunshine cutting through my gloom. It reminded me that even in the bleakest places, people can still show warmth and understanding. I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and hoped that this little act of kindness would help me get through the tough times ahead, reminding me that I had the strength to handle it despite everything around me.

There was a tiny spot meant for clothes, but honestly, I didn’t have anything with me, which just made me feel more vulnerable and helpless at the time. If I remember right, there was a bathroom in the room too, which was a small comfort in that otherwise bare space. Strangely, I don’t think I ever took a shower while I was there, which is weird considering the situation and the need to stay clean. Honestly, a lot of that time is still a blur of confusion and anxiety, making it hard to sort out what happened when.

Even with all this haze, I’m determined to remember as much as I can, to put together the pieces of what happened during that tough time. Every little detail matters in piecing together the story of what I went through, acting like a puzzle piece in the bigger picture of my emotional and mental journey. I hope that by thinking back on these memories, I can find some clarity and maybe even closure about the chaotic feelings and experiences I had back then, helping me heal and move forward with a better understanding of myself and the strength I have.

************************

Small Favors are the Best

*************************

I'm lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing I had something to keep my mind and hands busy. The room feels strangely quiet, almost suffocating, since they've taken all my stuff, leaving me with just the basics. The bare space really highlights how isolated I feel, and I can't help but get a bit frustrated with how things have turned out. The walls are painted this dull gray, and without any personal items, it's hard to feel connected to the outside world. It feels like I'm trapped in a bubble of solitude, where time seems to stand still, and every tick of the clock just reminds me that I'm stuck here. Fortunately, after a thorough search, they let me wear my own clothes, which is a small but important touch of normalcy. The fabric is familiar, like a comforting hug in a place that feels pretty cold.

My husband, always supportive, managed to bring me some toiletries, which I really needed. Brushing my teeth with my own toothpaste felt like a luxury here, a little ritual that brought some routine back into my disrupted life. The minty freshness was a nice pick-me-up, a brief moment of normalcy amidst all the uncertainty. He also brought me some extra clothes and a book to read later—small wins! The book is an old favorite I've been wanting to revisit, and it's a welcome escape from my current reality. Each page promises adventure and distraction, a way to dive into a story that's far removed from what's going on around me. I'm already excited to get lost in it and forget, even for a little while, about everything else.

As the hours dragged on, I found myself eagerly waiting for snack time, which turned out to be a welcome break. The food was simple, but it was a comforting routine that helped distract me from my thoughts. The clock seemed to tick so slowly, each second feeling like forever, but thinking about food gave me a little hope. I enjoyed every bite, really appreciating the flavors and textures, as if it were a fancy meal instead of something basic. The crunch of the crackers and the sweetness of the fruit came together, creating a sensory experience that lifted my spirits for a bit. After a long day filled with uncertainty and reflection, I finally gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep, hoping for a better tomorrow. As I closed my eyes, the day's weight slowly faded away, and the quiet of the night wrapped around me. In that stillness, I could almost feel my worries disappearing, replaced by a fragile hope that tomorrow might bring new possibilities, new encounters, and maybe a glimpse of freedom.

************************

My New Doctor

*************************

When I woke up that morning, I found out I had to get ready to see the doctor. The air felt thick with unspoken worries, and I was hit with a wave of dread as I tried to brace myself for what was coming. I couldn't stop my mind from spinning with all sorts of possibilities about the meeting. Walking into the room, I was surprised by how many people were there. It wasn't just the doctor; there were several staff members hanging around, watching silently from the corners. They didn't talk to me, which made things even more awkward and the room felt more intimidating and lonely. Their silent stares made me feel like I was on display, not a person needing help.

The doctor, a young guy who seemed about my age or a bit older, stood out among the group. He had this commanding presence, but his attitude was stern and a bit condescending, which just made me more anxious. During our conversation, he talked to me like I was a kid being scolded, not a patient looking for help. This made it really hard for me to be open and honest about how I felt. When I tried to explain my situation, I made it clear that I never said I was going to take my own life. I had just expressed a moment of despair by saying, “I wish I was dead.” To me, that was more about my struggles than any real intention to hurt myself. I felt a strong need to clarify my thoughts, to make him understand what I was really going through.

I figured that if someone really wanted to end their life, they wouldn't tell anyone; they'd just go through with it quietly. But when I tried to explain my thoughts, it seemed to make him even more upset. He snapped back, and as I was trying to defend myself, he said he'd have to label my case as involuntary. That hit me like a ton of bricks, because being labeled involuntary would seriously mess with my mental health care and take away my rights and freedom at a time when I was just looking for some understanding and support.

Needing to vent and find some comfort, I reached out to my husband as soon as I could. When I told him what was going on, he was immediately worried and frustrated, feeling protective but also kind of helpless. He spent the whole day reaching out to higher-ups in the healthcare system, fighting for me, and even contacted the Governor to try and get my case noticed. His determination to stand up for my rights and well-being gave me a bit of hope in the chaos, reminding me I wasn't alone in this tough situation. His unwavering support was like a lifeline, helping me feel a bit of power even when everything felt so overwhelming.

Besides my husband's nonstop efforts, I decided to reach out to the patient advocate for some advice and support from someone who might get what I was going through. That evening, I finally got to chat with someone on the phone who seemed to really care about my situation. They asked me an important question: would I agree to voluntary treatment? I said yes, hoping that my willingness to cooperate would lead to a more compassionate approach to my care. Luckily, my answer changed things; they switched my status back to voluntary, which felt like a small win in the chaos. But even with the new label, I still had to stay for a few days for observation and treatment, and I prepared myself for the usual bureaucratic delays, knowing the paperwork would take forever. The healing journey was just starting, and I was determined to tackle it with the help of my loved ones and new allies.

************************

Just 5 Little Words

*************************

This whole experience was way more intense and emotionally draining than I ever expected, and it really hit me hard mentally and emotionally. It felt like I was caught in a tangled web where people kept misunderstanding my intentions and couldn't see the complexities of my mental health struggles. It was like trying to find my way through a maze, but every turn just made things more confusing. The feeling of being powerless wasn't just a passing thing; it was a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe sometimes, like I was stuck under a suffocating blanket of despair. The days dragged on, each one feeling long and tough, as I tried to get through a thick fog of confusion and despair clouding my mind.

I ended up dealing with the big fallout from something I said, which unexpectedly blew up into a much bigger issue, affecting not just my personal life but also my interactions with others. The impact of that one moment seemed to spread out, causing waves of misunderstanding and frustration that I had to deal with every day. It was like tossing a stone into a calm pond, and the ripples were messing up the peace in my life and the lives of those I really care about. Every interaction reminded me how one wrong move could lead to a chain reaction of problems, leaving me feeling isolated and misunderstood.

While I was looking for help, I really noticed how out of sync my needs were with the responses I got from different support systems. I knew I needed assistance, but I also really wanted my voice to be heard and respected during the whole process. I wished the people meant to support me could see me as an individual, not just through the labels tied to mental health issues, and really understand the context of my experiences. Every conversation felt like a struggle to get my point across, as I tried to explain my feelings and the complexities of my situation, only to get responses that often seemed dismissive or too clinical. It was frustrating to feel like my struggles were being boiled down to just symptoms on a checklist, instead of being recognized as the rich experiences that made me who I am.

Amid all this chaos, I wrestled with my own thoughts, questioning my worth and whether my emotions were valid. It was a constant battle to keep a sense of self when everything around me seemed to undermine my reality and dismiss my feelings. I really wanted someone to listen with compassion, to take the time to truly hear and validate my experiences, instead of just sticking to a script or protocol that felt empty of empathy. This journey through misunderstanding and emotional distress wasn't just about getting help; it was also about taking back my story and standing up for my own needs in a world that often misses the nuances of mental health.

I really wanted a place where I could open up about my vulnerabilities without worrying about being judged or misunderstood. A spot where my voice could be heard and actually contribute to a meaningful conversation about my well-being. The need for connection and understanding was so strong, and every day felt like a chance to assert who I was amidst all the chaos around me. So, determined, I told the nurses I wanted to talk to my doctor alone, hoping to share my side of things without anyone else in the room. They promised to pass the message along, and for a moment, I felt hopeful that maybe this time, my needs would be taken seriously.

But despite trying, I never got a response, and the silence that followed felt like a heavy weight, crushing any hope I had left. Later, I saw him leaving and my heart raced at the thought of finally being heard. I approached him, feeling both anxious and hopeful, but he just gave me some weak excuse and walked away, leaving me deeply disappointed. That moment summed up everything I’d been feeling: a craving for connection, a desperate need to be understood, and the painful realization that my struggles were often met with indifference and a lack of real concern.

That brief encounter reminded me of the tough road ahead in seeking validation and support, making the journey feel even more challenging. Each setback just reinforced the idea that I was fighting an uphill battle, needing not only resilience but also a strong commitment to my own mental health and well-being. The emotional terrain I was navigating was full of obstacles, yet I was determined to find a space for my voice, advocate for my needs, and seek the understanding that had been so hard to find.

************************

What to Do?

*************************

My First Full Day at the Facility

On my first full day there, I dove into a bunch of planned activities and meetings, all set up to help me get used to my new surroundings and make sure I got the care I needed. The day kicked off with an orientation session, a key part of settling in, where I was warmly introduced to the staff who'd be important in my journey. This session was not only informative but also comforting, as I learned about the different departments and what they do in the facility. The staff, each with their own expertise and friendly manner, explained their roles, which made me feel more at ease in what could have been an overwhelming situation.

After meeting everyone, I got a detailed tour of the place. This tour was crucial for helping me figure out the layout, including important spots like the patient care units, therapy rooms, and recreational spaces. As I walked through the halls, I checked out the various amenities available to patients, like quiet rooms for reflection and areas for group activities. The tour not only got me familiar with the physical space but also highlighted the resources I'd have during my stay, reinforcing the sense of support around me.

As the morning went on, I took part in a series of assessments that were key to my care plan. These assessments included a thorough look at my medical history, current condition, and any specific concerns I had. Medical professionals did a comprehensive review, asking insightful questions that made me reflect deeply on my health journey so far. This process wasn't just a formality; it felt like an essential step in making sure my care was personalized and suited to my unique situation.

All day long, I bounced between meetings with different specialists, each playing a key role in my care team. The vibe in these meetings was all about teamwork and focus, with each expert bringing their own know-how to the table. They talked about their plans for my treatment, sharing tips and strategies to help me get better. As I listened, I felt both nervous and hopeful; my health issues felt heavy, but it was comforting to see everyone working together to craft a plan just for me.

The specialists made sure to answer my questions and address my concerns, which made me feel like I was really part of the process, not just a bystander. Their openness to chat built trust and made me feel connected, which is super important in healthcare. By the end of the day, I had a better grasp of what’s next, and I felt reassured knowing I had a dedicated team by my side. The mix of structured activities, personalized check-ins, and team meetings set up a solid path for my recovery and well-being.

A New Doctor and a Positive Turnaround

The next day brought a big change in my treatment journey—I got a new doctor. This switch happened thanks to my amazing advocate, who had been working hard behind the scenes to make sure I got top-notch medical care and support. My advocate was super committed to my well-being and took on the challenge of navigating the healthcare system to push for changes that would make my treatment experience better.

This new doctor wasn't just any regular physician; he was actually the head honcho of all the doctors in our area. His experience and knowledge were obvious from the get-go. I'd heard lots of good things about how he treated his patients, and from the moment we met, his warmth and kindness made me feel at ease—something really important given my health situation.

He took the time to sit down with me and my husband, making sure we felt welcome and heard. It was a nice change from the rushed consultations I'd had before. He really listened to our concerns and questions, which made a big difference in how we felt about the whole situation. It was clear he valued our input and wanted us to feel comfortable throughout the process, which can often be overwhelming for patients and their families.

He didn't just stick to the clinical stuff; he really tried to connect with us personally, which was super comforting during such a tough time. This connection built trust, letting us share our fears and uncertainties without holding back. I found myself opening up about my worries regarding the treatment plan and potential outcomes, and he listened with empathy and understanding, addressing each concern thoughtfully.

When we talked, he went over my case in detail, explaining what was needed for me to eventually be discharged. He was clear about the steps we could take moving forward and laid out the timeline we might expect for my recovery and release. His knack for breaking down complex medical terms into simple language was incredibly helpful, making it easier for us to understand my treatment plan without feeling lost. Having a doctor who genuinely cared about my well-being and was committed to doing everything he could to help me recover was a breath of fresh air.

It was clear he wasn't just going through the motions; he was genuinely invested in my health and healing. His dedication, along with the teamwork of the entire medical staff, created a supportive atmosphere that was crucial to my recovery. The nurses and support staff reflected his compassion and professionalism, reinforcing the positive vibe he had set. Thanks to his hard work and the collaborative effort of the healthcare team, I ended up leaving the facility the very next day, feeling a renewed sense of hope and relief.

This experience was a strong reminder of how much compassionate care and good communication can really make a difference in a patient's journey. It showed me how important it is to have advocates and medical pros who value empathy just as much as their expertise, making sure patients are treated with a holistic approach. I walked away feeling hopeful, knowing I had a dedicated team backing me up every step of the way. This new confidence in my care team lifted my spirits, as I realized I wasn't alone in this journey; I had allies truly invested in my recovery and well-being.

************************

Friends in Low Places

*************************

I ended up meeting some awesome people there, each with their own cool stories and experiences that made our time together really special. One of them was a young artist who loved painting landscapes. We often chatted about our dreams and goals when we crossed paths. Her lively personality was just like the bright colors she used in her paintings. Through our talks, I got to know about her creative process, how nature inspired her, and how she turned her feelings into art. We often got caught up in conversations about the world's beauty and the importance of expressing ourselves through our art forms. Another person, a seasoned traveler, shared amazing stories from his adventures around the world, sparking our imaginations and encouraging us to look beyond our everyday lives. He talked about the bustling markets in Marrakech, peaceful sunsets in Bali, and Rome's rich history, painting vivid pictures with his words. His tales not only entertained us but also fueled our wanderlust, making us dream of exploring far-off places and new adventures waiting beyond the horizon.

I chatted with a couple of them for a bit after our time together, having conversations that were both deep and short-lived. We laughed and shared some serious thoughts, talking about everything from personal struggles to dreams for the future. In those moments, I felt a real connection, like we were all kindred spirits figuring out life's twists and turns together. We swapped contact info, hoping to keep the connections we made in that unique setting. We promised to stay in touch, share life updates, and support each other’s journeys. But as time went on, life took us in different directions, and I eventually lost touch with them. The hustle and bustle of daily life and life's unpredictability often pull us away from the bonds we create, and it's funny how relationships can fade when the situations that brought us together disappear. What once felt like a strong connection started to feel like a distant memory, just a fleeting moment in the big picture of life.

Every now and then, I think about them and wonder if they’re doing okay—not just in terms of staying safe, but also if they’re chasing their dreams and goals. I catch myself reminiscing about the laughs we shared and those deep moments that brought us together so fast. Are they following their passions? Have they found success in what they’re doing? Are they still making art or traveling the world like they always wanted? These thoughts stick with me, reminding me how fleeting connections can be and how much impact people can have on our lives, even in short encounters. I often think about how those shared moments can leave a lasting mark, shaping how we see things and inspiring us. Our conversations echo in my mind, showing me that even if our paths go in different directions, the essence of those relationships stays with us, highlighting the beauty of human connection.

************************

Back to the Grind

*************************

Even though I was only away from school for three days, it felt way longer because of the intense demands of my accelerated nursing program. In such a fast-paced setting, missing any time can mean losing out on a lot of important information and learning chances. The program was so intense that even a short break could really set you back, making the idea of catching up pretty overwhelming. Each day was packed with lectures, hands-on practice, and valuable interactions with teachers and classmates. Missing just a few days felt like jumping off a moving train, and I worried about how much I'd miss in terms of nursing concepts, clinical skills, and the collaborative learning experiences crucial for my future in healthcare.

Luckily, I had an amazing teacher who got how tough this program can be. He was not just understanding but also super supportive, letting me catch up on my own schedule. This was a huge help because it allowed me to really understand the material without stressing about falling behind. Her support and flexibility were key in helping me keep up with my studies. With his guidance, I was able to make a personalized study plan to focus on the areas where I felt shaky, making sure I could strengthen my understanding and build confidence. Our open communication built trust and motivation, which was really valuable during this tough time.

So, on the flip side, I knew not everyone in the admin was thrilled about me being gone. The Assistant Director of Nursing, known for being super strict, wasn't happy with my situation. She was all about sticking to strict attendance rules and wasn't too understanding about why I had to take a short break from school. Her serious attitude made me feel like I was being watched, which just added more stress to my already hectic life. But I was confident in myself and determined to show I could handle my studies, even when things got tough. I knew being resilient was crucial for anyone in nursing, and I wanted to prove to both myself and the administration that I was serious about my education and career.

Thanks to my dedication, I managed to catch up on everything I missed. I used all sorts of resources like study groups, online lectures, and extra reading to make sure I understood everything in the curriculum. I reached out to classmates who shared their notes and insights, and I joined virtual study sessions for some group learning. This approach not only helped me get a better grasp of the content but also brought me closer to my peers as we all tackled the program's challenges together. In the end, my hard work paid off, and I kept up my grades without failing any courses. This experience really reinforced my belief in the power of perseverance, the importance of asking for help, and the value of having a supportive academic community.

Looking back on that experience, I see how crucial it was in shaping my path. The challenges I faced tested not just my academic skills, but also my determination and adaptability. I learned how to manage my time, prioritize tasks, and find resources to help my learning. Now, I’m proud to be a nurse, armed with the knowledge and experience from my time in the accelerated nursing program. This journey taught me the value of perseverance and how important supportive mentors are in education. The lessons from those tough days still guide me as a nurse, reminding me to tackle every situation with resilience and an open mind, and to always lend a hand to those who might be struggling on their own journeys.

************************

Not the Same Person Anymore

*************************

That time was a few years back, and it feels both far away and super fresh in my mind. It was a phase full of big challenges and experiences that really shaped who I was back then. Those years were packed with tough situations that pushed me to my limits and made me face parts of myself I hadn't really thought about before. The pressure was intense, but it ended up being a chance for me to grow and reflect.

Back then, I ran into all sorts of obstacles that made me dig deep and find strength I didn't even know I had. Each challenge was different, from personal setbacks to outside pressures that felt impossible to handle. But these weren't just things to get through; they were chances to learn and discover more about myself. I figured out how to deal with uncertainty, adapt, and come up with creative solutions for problems that used to feel overwhelming. The lessons I picked up have been priceless, steering my growth in ways I never expected.

Looking back on that time, it's clear that a lot has changed, not just in my life but also inside me. I've gone through different life stages, each bringing new insights and shifts in how I see things. I've built new relationships, jumped on new opportunities, and faced new challenges that tested me even more. But the biggest changes have happened within me. I'm not the same person anymore; I've gone through a major transformation that has reshaped my beliefs, goals, and how I interact with the world.

The trip from who I used to be to who I am now has been all about looking inward, learning, and being open to change. I've spent time figuring out what really matters to me by reassessing my values and priorities. This soul-searching has sometimes been tough, making me face fears and insecurities I've dodged for ages. But it's also been freeing, letting me drop old identities and become a more genuine version of myself.

Every step on this journey has helped me get a better grip on who I am and where I fit in the world. I've learned to see the beauty in being vulnerable and the strength that comes with trying new things. This whole experience has helped me build resilience and find a sense of purpose I didn't have before. Now, I tackle life with fresh optimism and determination, knowing I can handle whatever life throws at me.

The experiences over those years have left a lasting impact on me, changing not just how I see myself but also how I connect with others. I've become more empathetic and understanding, realizing everyone is on their own path of growth and change. This realization has made my relationships richer and deepened my appreciation for the complexities of human life. In short, the challenges I faced back then have laid the groundwork for my life now, steering me toward a future full of possibilities and hope.

************************

Lists

Books

• Shutter Island

• The Shining

************************

Songs

• “Don’t Let Me Get Me” - Pink

• “Just Like a Pill” - Pink

************************

Movies/Shows/Documentaries

• Girl, Interrupted

• American Horror Story: Season 2