depression
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This is so fucked up. The flashbacks won’t stop. Even in my dreams. Surreal nightmares of being locked up, tied down, and screaming in fear and despair. I am spared the horrible task of sitting with a suicidal patient tonight. I am often spared because some of my coworkers know my history. I can’t even
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Today is my birthday. I’m 40 years old. I am amazed I’ve made it this far. I never would have imagined I’d make it to 40. But here I am, scarred but alive. My mother made me a special dinner to take to work. We are trying to get along. I’m soaking up this break
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My mind is a swirling mess, so many anxious thoughts and visions of the future. So many triggers in my world despite my best efforts to mitigate them, to manage them, and use the therapy, so much therapy. When I want to sleep, I’m wide awake. I take the Gabapentin, Vistaril, Melatonin, sometimes Ativan. Force
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Two weeks complete of grad school. This morning I was nearly in tears, overwhelmed at all of it. Overwhelmed at my home life and the misery of my mother and stressed by increasing demands from a totally online Master of Public Health program. I’m trying to roll with it, enjoy it. I was very good
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I’m trying so hard to psych myself up. To get excited at the prospect of using my brain. Of not letting it go to rot. Of doing something that isn’t being a glorified chambermaid. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I did a lot of therapy and so much thinking over the job I
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What a painful night. For some reason, nightmares during the day. At work I’m exhausted and surrounded by screaming patients, patients in restraints, staff who need too much from me, and haunted by memories. I’ve tried to focus on work, to distract, anything. The memories come unbidden, untriggered, and then they are exacerbated by that



