Mental Health
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I’m so sick of seeing people cheer for human suffering. For pain. For death. Behind your little screens and keyboards, you sit in comfort, laughing and clapping as if someone else’s devastation is entertainment. Just what you voted for, right? Sigh. I’ve been an ER nurse for 16 years. I have held more hands than
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I want to start this off by saying—loud and proud—I am a BIG believer in mental health treatment, medication, therapy, Reiki, moon water, yelling into the void… whatever it takes to feel okay again when you’re not. That said, this is not a post about bashing meds. This is a post about finding the right
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So, it’s Nurses Week. You know what that means. Time for a heartfelt email from leadership about how we’re the “backbone of healthcare” and maybe—just maybe—a leftover bagel in the breakroom if you get there early enough. If you’re lucky, there’s a gift. A pen, perhaps. Nothing says “we value you” like a plastic writing
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I wonder if you know how much love it took to hate you this much. Hate doesn’t come from nothing. It’s not born in a vacuum, not a sudden gust of wind that sweeps through and rearranges everything overnight. No, it’s built—layer by layer, moment by moment, lie by lie. Hate is love that stayed
I Would Rather Be In Bed 