I Stopped Writing

I’ve done myself – and perhaps you – a disservice and I’m sorry.

I stopped writing. A quick jaunt through my previous posts and I smiled – I’m proud of the work I did; why did I stop?

Fear.

Right.

The truth is I did lose my mind a little. And as evidenced by literature, referrals I’m seeing in my inbox, the news, and my colleague burnout, I’m not the only one. Mine might have been a bit more intense than some, perhaps less than others. I needed care away from home to support me and that’s tough to acknowledge when you’re the professional.

I packed my bags, kissed my loved ones, and boarded that plane. Then I had to remember how to be the one cared for. The one encouraged to take up space in a group and not facilitate everyone else’s healing. The one trying a med change after 11 years because it was a safe setting to do so.

Being the patient. Being not in control of anything. And being ok with that.

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