blue sky mind

A couple days ago I was pulled to work on the psych unit of the hospital. A place I have never worked before, in all my years of nursing — and for good reason. I don’t know what I thought would happen, but either way, I went into the day feeling both weary and optimistic.

And as I walked back to my car twelve and a half hours later, I just felt disappointed. Disappointed in myself for feeling all the things I felt that day. Disappointed in my efforts to have boundaries. Disappointed in the American health care system and the complacency of psych health care workers in general. And I cried. Jesus, did I cry. Big, heavy, grossly loud and snotty tears all the way home. I was unable to come to terms with what I had seen and heard that day—endless trauma, delusions, thoughts of violence/harm to self and others, confusion, confliction, inner battles of self worth and identity possession. It all just kept piling on top of one another and I felt so unsafe and uncomfortable. Not because these patients scared me or I didn’t understand but because I did.

What I failed to realize about that day until I was driving home, was that everything about the way I handled that was different than anything I’ve ever done in similar situations. I was taught at a very young age that safety was a privilege. And I was taught that it really is in your own hands to provide that for yourself. What I didn’t fully come to terms with until only a few years ago is that there is a difference between feeling uncomforatble and feeling unsafe. And there is a difference between putting yourself in an uncomfortable situation that is within your control and being put in a situation you feel uncomfortable and unsafe in. Furthermore, there is no reason you have to remain in a situation you feel uncomfortable and unsafe in. If you have the option to say something, say it. I spent the better part of that morning trying to barricade every trauma trigger in that unit and going to the bathroom to cry and splash water on my face. and it did not help. But I chose to eventually prioritize the way this unit was making me feel and instead of just beating myself up about being affected by it, I told someone. I told them I felt uncomfortable being on that unit, that there’s a reason I’m not a psych nurse, it is too triggering for me. (Just because I know my limits doesn’t make me any less strong, actually more so).

I was so concerned that I was just out here giving up and feeling broken for not being able to protect myself from all of it that I almost forced myself to stay in a place I felt unsafe in. And how many times have I actually done that and justified it. But that’s the difference. That’s how I’ve grown: not only did I recognize how I was feeling but I chose to protect it, honor it, and decide that it matters. To recognize that I have choices! That choosing what makes me comfortable is good and healthy! So I talked to staffing and they put me in a different unit. And I talked to my recruiter who told me she’ll make sure I neever get floated there again. Wow, what a relief that brought me. And you know what? It wasn’t a big deal.

So those really loud heavy tears slowly became more tears of relief, gratitude—still loud and snotty—but lighter on my skin.