It’s been a quick minute since I have spilled words out here.
Here we are, entering the third year of a pandemic, and I am 137 days away from completing my monitoring program with the BRN.
After toxic job number one, I was bamboozled into another unhealthy work environment.
It was filled with dysfunctional management, financially motivated administrators, and toxic work coercion.
Not good…
Also, sadly, the type of job that will hire a nurse in a monitoring program because they are desperate for staff.
Their employee turnover rate was astronomical, and they herded new grads through the place like cattle going to the slaughterhouse.
Dangerous nurse to patient ratios, and lack of training for the new nurses who were fresh out of school, made for some scary scenarios.
It was only a few months into this position that I felt the familiar tug of my intuition telling me to “get out”.
I did what I do best, and tried to quiet it by responding “this isn’t forever. I can get through this. I have worked in difficult environments before”.
HOW MANY TIMES MUST I GET THE SAME LESSON BEFORE I DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY?!
Obviously a lot.
So I listened, and I didn’t wait until I was a burned out, frazzled mess to leave.
I gave an adequate notice, and got out of there with zero plan in place for anything else.
I have met my work requirement for my monitoring program already (working 6 months for at least 24 hours a week in the same position), so I chose to work in a non-nursing role until this is over.
I am coming up on seven years of sobriety, and I have been so grateful these last two years for the deep roots that I grew when I was gifted a new life in recovery in 2015.
No reason to fear the wind
My roots were my lifeline when the shame spiral started at the beginning of this punitive program.
I have listened to them whisper to me when I was hurting “you are not your past” and “you can do hard things”, and I hold onto these truths.
These roots are my spirit, my connection to what is real.
My source of power to withstand the storms of life.
They say that a tree swaying in the wind during a storm develops extra strength to withstand directional forces.
I feel that, deeply.
I have always openly shared my experiences throughout my recovery journey, and I will continue to do so.
I don’t sugar-coat experiences, and I don’t believe in toxic positivity.
I am a deeply feeling, highly sensitive person, who is also built to withstand an exorbitant amount of toxicity and dysfunction. What a conundrum…
I continue to learn to be gentle with myself in all parts of my life.
I never miss a morning meditation, I nourish my body with healthy foods, I get such good sleep, and I still get mad as hell sometimes at this whole process.
Because. I’m. HUMAN.
And that, my dears, is how life is done for reals. No fakey fake internet persona, no “no bad vibes” horseshit rubbish sayings, just real life experience through a difficult season.
And it IS entirely possible to stay sober through anything, AND to continue to grow in your recovery during these times too.
Acknowledge all your feelings and allow them to pass through.
Stay connected to the people who truly see you and love you.
And when the storms come, steady yourself.
Dig those roots in and feed off of their nutrients, they are honored to support you.
