@Lara_Fergie99 We had all access to drinks taken away for almost a week after one patient kept throwing all the tea/coffee/sugar/milk/water/cups everywhere, as well as no bin! No bins in rooms either 🙃
Finding things very difficult at the moment. Trying to take it moment by moment but flashbacks and my own mind are making it very tough. I'm so tired of doing the work
@IamCarrieagain I hope today feels more manageable not being at work and you are able to enjoy being with your mum. I'm struggling a lot this morning, trying to take each minute as it comes, but feels pretty exhausting when it's not even 9am 🤦♀️
One of the most chilling form of gaslighting in psychiatry is bureaucratic.
You tell your story, and the system writes a different one.
The gaslight-to-file pipeline traps us in a cage, our attempts to get out proof of concept.
Someone asked me the other day, “Why do you still feel so hurt when it’s been so long?”
I took a deep breath and said, “You know when you break a bone or tear a ligament, and even after it heals, it still aches sometimes because it never quite returns to what it used to be. The pain fades, but the memory remains in the body. Those bones and ligaments will never be the same again.”
That’s what emotional pain does too. It doesn’t always scream the way it used to sometimes it just quietly lingers. You can go on with your life, laugh again, fall in love, rebuild yourself but there’s always that one quiet moment when your soul whispers, ‘Remember?’ It’s not about holding onto the pain; it’s about living with the echo of what once broke you.
Healing isn’t linear. Some days you wake up feeling strong, untouched, and free. Other days, a random song, a familiar scent, or a passing memory can pull you right back into the ache you thought you left behind. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t healed, it means you’re human. It means you’ve survived something that left a mark deep enough to remind you of your strength.
You learn to carry the pain differently. It becomes softer, quieter, more like a scar than an open wound. It no longer controls you, but it shapes you. It teaches you patience, compassion, boundaries, and resilience. It reminds you to never settle for the things that once broke you.
So when they asked me again, “Are you still hurt?” I smiled and said, “No, I’m not hurt anymore. It’s just that my soul isn’t feeling how it used to. Some parts of me healed, but they healed differently not perfectly, not the same, but beautifully in their own way.”
Because healing doesn’t always mean going back to who you were. Sometimes it means accepting that you’ll never be the same and learning to love that new version of yourself anyway.
All therapy is grief work. A process of confronting a life where you expect one thing and get another, a life that brings you the unexpected and unanticipated.”
Edith Eva Eger
#therapy#grief#expectations
Want to truly heal?
Don’t just ask: “What happened to me?”
Ask: “What did I have to become to survive it?”
The answer isn’t in the pain itself.
It’s in the armor you had to wear to keep going.
As a patient
As a nurse
As a person
This qoute is something we should all try and practice:
In our darkest moments, we don’t need solutions or advice. What we yearn for is simply human connection—a quiet presence, a gentle touch. These small gestures are the anchors that hold us steady when life feels like too much.
Please don’t try to fix me. Don’t take on my pain or push away my shadows. Just sit beside me as I work through my own inner storms. Be the steady hand I can reach for as I find my way.
My pain is mine to carry, my battles mine to face. But your presence reminds me I’m not alone in this vast, sometimes frightening world. It’s a quiet reminder that I am worthy of love, even when I feel broken.
So, in those dark hours when I lose my way, will you just be here? Not as a rescuer, but as a companion. Hold my hand until the dawn arrives, helping me remember my strength.
Your silent support is the most precious gift you can give. It’s a love that helps me remember who I am, even when I forget.
Ernest Hemingway
no one talks about how draining it is when your mood is constantly switching between "keep going, it'll get better" and "i can't do this anymore I'm about to give up"