My therapy sessions with my patients have grown heavy once again — especially for my patients that work in healthcare.
Day after day they share, with tear filled eyes, their overwhelming fatigue. They stare blankly ahead at the telehealth screen as they describe lying awake night after night, too exhausted and overwhelmed to find sleep.
Each patient and their story is different but the common theme is the same — burnout.
Complete and total burnout.
So many question their career choice — for many of them have felt failed by their employers.
So many question their own humanity — for they now dread going to work and being around people.
So many question their future — for the passion that they once felt for their work is now nowhere to be found.
Like so many of us they are crawling, bruised and broken, toward some nebulous finish line on the horizon.
Sometimes as we near the end of a session, they will stop me and ask me if I am doing ok.
“How are YOU managing it all?”
They are caregivers by nature and struggle to keep the focus on themselves-even during their own therapy session.
But I think they are mostly looking for signs of hope.
Hope is what is missing most now.
Hope is what is needed most now.
In times of great sorrow, loss, and tragedy it is hope that keeps us tethered to our life and to each other.
Hope that something and someone can be consistent.
Hope for brighter days.
Hope for rest.
Hope for passions to be reborn.
Hope to enjoy the world again.
Hope to make it to tomorrow.
As you crawl toward the finish line right now, find hope.
Find it anywhere you can.
And hold onto it.
“You’re one of the strongest moms I know. If you can’t do it, I can’t either.”
My friend’s words jumped out of the text at me, hitting me right in the gut. That negative voice in my head, always lurking just beneath the surface, was quick to question her view of me.
How could it be that someone sees me as strong when lately all I feel is weak, a growing sense that I am a failure, and the notion that I am shrinking away from everyone?
Originally published on Her View From Home. Click HERE for full article.
Four or five years ago we tried our hand at gardening. Turns out that we are much better at tending to pets than we are at tending to a garden.
But every year the strawberries return.
Without any effort from us, they awaken and grace us with their beauty.
Complete and total neglect.
Today this strawberry, the first from the forgotten bunch for this year, reminds me that we all have everything we need inside of us already.
Like these strawberries, we can persist and continue to grow, even when no one believes in us, we feel forgotten, or the odds are stacked against us.
Mental Health & Wellness
Now, more than ever, we all need a little support to help get us through the rough spots. With all the pressures of life, it can be a challenge to find time to not only take care of yourself but also to truly understand who you even are anymore.