Category: Mental Health
-
We Can Do Hard Things
J loves the podcast We Can Do Hard Things. I really hate podcasts, but every once in a while she will hear something that reminds her of me and will play a snippet for me to hear. They discuss different topics between the three women on the show, and often talk about lessons they have…
-
Feeling it all
Am I the only one who has to take laps of the floor between patients every once in a while, focusing on my breathing and trying to recenter myself? Am I the only one who drives home with tears prickling my eyes after a difficult shift? Is anyone else trying to remind themselves, ‘I am…
-
I need you
“I need to take a walk.” I walk briskly away from the workroom to do a lap of the floor, breathing deeply and trying to clear my head from the encounter I just had. “No problem,” my attending Dr. M replies, “I’ll be here if you need me!” I had just admitted C, a tween…
-
Sick: reflections on adolescence and my journey to well
I very vividly remember sitting in the children’s wing of the hospital, IV in my arm and wrapped in blankets waiting to be called back for my endoscopy. I’m sure I looked like the picture of health…or not. My mom was in the locker room putting on the disposable bunny suit so she could come…
-
Remind me why I’m doing this
Okay Nikki, more than halfway done. Just one more mile…now three more laps…imagine the finish line…come on, you’re basically there…DONE! “Hallelujah,” I pant to no one in particular, as I wipe the sweat off my face and try to bring down my heart rate. “What was I thinking?? Why would I voluntarily run 10 kilometers?…
-
Ditching Imposter Syndrome
“OW!” I yanked out several more hairs than I meant to as I tried to pluck the silver strand that was glaringly obvious (to me at least) on the top of my head. “Man, how am I already gray, I’m not even 30!” I lamented. I ran my fingers through my hair and spotted several…
-
Permanent Punctuation
So, I have a tattoo. Sorry mom. I have a little black semicolon on the inside of my left wrist, which has been there for at least 5 years. It started out in Sharpie, then progressed to a stick-on temporary tattoo, then to a semi-permanent developing ink one. Now, it’s never coming off. (Yes, they…
-
Failure is a Bruise, Not a Tattoo
“I failed out of med school!” I cried to my new therapist. “Okay,” she replied, “I wouldn’t say that. You were put on leave; doesn’t that mean you can go back?” “Well yes…” “Do you want to go back?” “More than anything in the world,” I said, breathing deeply and trying to stop the moisture…
-
How I Named This Blog
Four pill bottles sit on my desk day in and day out. They travel with me, they move with me, and they get refilled month after month. I’m sure that isn’t unusual in the scheme of the world, but sometimes thinking about what’s in my bottles makes me feel inadequate. Technically speaking, I have a…
Welcome to my brain. I hope it's entertaining. 