What’s up y’all. I’m just gonna write freely here about where I’m at now. Can you believe? I got the courage to go back to graduate school. I’m currently at the University of Texas at Austin. I got into their Family Nurse Practitioner program!! Yeah, I’m thrilled! I have been a critical care nurse for over ten years now, and it has taken its toll on me. I’ve been ready for change and it’s happening! I will graduate in the Spring of 2022. I can’t wait to be more engaged with my community in a clinic setting.

Fall Semester was really rough. I had been working full time the summer prior taking care of covid patients in the ICU. While I was adapting to the demand of full time graduate school, I was also responsible for homeschooling my 7 year-old. He has ADD/ADHD. Between the two of us, my attempts to guide his online education broke down into fits of stern commands, defiance, yelling and tears. Ultimately, I would attend my online zoom courses and complete my assignments, while he watched YouTube videos. I had a lot of guilt. The guilt spiraled into depression, and by Christmas break I wanted to kill myself. Really. Seriously, slit my wrists in a bathtub to make cleaning up my body more convenient for whoever should find me. This may sound overdramatic, however I know that I am susceptible to succumb to the pull of depression. Because I was so busy with school, I wasn’t taking time out to practice yoga, meditate, or read the books that normally provide me comfort.

I did confide in the university’s counselor. I did talk to my mother. I did confide in my primary care physician. These are all things that I had never done before. I never leaned on support and I always tried to overcome depression on my own. With their support, I decided, for the first time ever, to commit to a prescribed medicinal treatment that now consists of both Welbutrin and Lexapro. I have long hesitated to take medications for depression because of the stigma around it. Relying on medications meant that I was incapable of achieving peace on my own, it meant, as a yoga practitioner, that I was a failure. “I am a failure. I can’t get my shit together. I’m irrational and selfish.” These are thoughts that circulated that compounded my shame. These are thoughts that are JUST PLAIN WRONG.

I’m not a failure, and I can get my shit together, and a part of that entails taking medications to stabilize my mood. Since January, when I started taking anti-depressants, I’ve been more level-headed, focused, positive and content. I’m not someone else, I am more authentically the best version of me, without all the bull-crap dwelling thoughts of self-deprecation. Why did I wait so long?! Stigma?

I can happily say that I am at a really good place right now. I’ve been enjoying school. I’m currently in a bioethics class and a health policy class. I’m learning so much about how I can best contribute my skill to society. I want to add a journal entry here, from January 11, 2018. It’s at a time when I knew I needed change, but I wasn’t sure of what kind. In it, is a poem that I’m really proud of (not the first sex poem, haha). I hope you enjoy it!

January 11, 2018

Ear to heart

Set to restart

Against the warmth of your skin

Your curves I trace with

my palm

Rekindle love, Begin again.

We had sex last night for the first time in months. I had forgotten how comforting it is to lie skin to skin with a man I love and with a man who loves me. Yes, “I am worthy of being loved.” Anahata affirmation: “I am worthy of being loved”

I’m not going to take that desk job, should they ever call and offer it. Soon, I’ll have several days to myself to write and read to think. Nothing is more valuable a pass time than that. I’ve been frustrated with the mess of things around the house, the garage—so much crap, so much to not keep track of. Soon enough, both kids will be in school and I’ll have plenty of time to get organized. Once I’m organized I can get working for me, for God’s purpose—not that raising children isn’t a part of that, but in a way that provides for society. Community. Serving myself is serving community—one cannot neglect one’s own sense of self and succeed in the service of others.

Windy Day

Sweep the cobwebs away

Cool breeze kissing flesh

Blow leaves, not a mess

to today’s eye on the street

Solid rhythm, my feet

march on pavement, one

two, onward solider

in life

knocked down by capital culture

we strive day by day to catch up

On new day, windy winter day

heart pounding hard now

as if to say

“I AM ALIVE” oh, world.

I am alive.