I Am A Nurse
In the fall of 2010, I was sitting in a circle with my fellow outpatient alcoholics and addicts. It was my graduation day. I was really excited and I was hoping to hear some nice things from all the people with whom I had spent the past several months processing my life on a daily basis. Usually when people graduate from these programs, I like to talk about how inspirational the person was to our group or how their honesty is something that we should try to achieve. Instead, I was a little disheartened and saddened when two people in a row  told me that I needed to find out more about myself because nursing isn't the only thing in life. They told me I relied on being a nurse and my only identity in life far too much. Of course I did, it was the only thing at that point that I was good at or could be proud of.

When I first started taking anti-depressants in 2004 as my nursing school was coming to an end, I felt like I was some sort of failure because I shouldn't be a nurse with anxiety problems or depression problems. In my mind, nurses are people who are tough and go-getters. Nurses know how to take care of people and thus know how to take care of themselves. They are educated in living better lives. We know what makes people sick and what doesn't. I held all nurses on the highest pedestal because of the nature of the work nursing is. I held myself to this standard as well and always fell short, in my own mind, because I was a drinking, smoking, stressed out, overweight, depressed 20 something with a life falling apart.

I remember commenting to my Mom when I got out of my inpatient treatment, "you would not believe how many other nurses were in there with me." It was my Mom's friend who actually reminded me, "nurses are just people. You were in treatment with other people who happen to be nurses". Likewise, I was also reminded that those who are in care-taking professions often have the least clue about taking care of themselves - case in point, me.

Because I carried this belief that nurses would know better and be above all of this, gave me an extra bag of shame to carry around. I have watched people die from alcohol-related complications, I have watched family members drive themselves crazy with guilt and shame about not being able to care for their loved one. I preached to the patients and the family members the same that taking care of ourselves is the only way to get through situations. Get some help, talk to a therapist, talk to our social worker, get hooked up with community support groups. I could dish it and dish it, but when the same advice was given to me? Nope. Not a chance.

The main reason I forced my identity to be only that of a nurse and nothing else is because I was really behind the 8 ball when it came to knowing anything about myself. I was good at being a nurse. I took good care of my people. Others had good feedback about me, give or take. I graduated with honors from my program. It felt like it was the only good thing about me. People seemed to respect me when I said I am a nurse. Also, I felt like people instantly respected me when I wore my uniforms around. It was the only time I had a sense of pride.

It was a dangerous place for me to only have nursing as my sole aspect of me. I started to believe that the responsibility of everything was mine. I never micromanaged people, mainly because they would not have listened, but I sure was loud and obnoxious about my feeling regarding the type of care they were giving. I started to believe that I was the only one capable of doing my job. I took on extra tasks and jobs because no one could do it better than me. When was I knocked off my high horse every do often, I would be absolutely devastated. Usually I would leave the job within the month.

Likewise, most of the positive feedback I got in my life at that point was from the people with whom I worked. Whether it was co-workers or my patients, I started to need to hear it all the time. If I wasn't complimented everyday for something, suddenly I was unappreciated. It was like I had an addiction to needing to hear things. I could never validate myself because of all of my shame I carried about being who I was when I wasn't there that I needed and desired everyone at my work to tell me I am great. As I am slowly learned now, true validation comes from within. I don't mind a compliment now and then, but I don't need it because I know I do good work. I love my patients and what I do. I do what I do, however, to give an internal satisfaction of knowing I made a difference in someone's life. I don't do it demanding you tell me exactly how super great I am.

I was so annoyed with my group that they didn't really say much to me other than I needed to find something else about myself. In hindsight, they were right about needing to find another identity. My favorite part of DBT class is when we started talking about our value system and what makes me, me. I read so intensely the  ideas given by my readings to figure out what I believed. Apparently, I have lots of different beliefs. Now, almost two years later, I have a much better handle on myself and what I believe. I do still carry a sense of pride being a nurse but it isn't the only thing about me anymore. I am a aunt. I am a friend. I am a concerned citizen. I am a volunteer.

I am proud to be a nurse. I am proud to say that I am a recovering alcoholic. These two things can coexist. I know that I am not the only nurse out there who wishes this addiction didn't get us. I know I am not the only nurse in recovery either. One of the area that I would like to possibly explore in grad school is working specifically with healthcare professional who need assistance with substance abuse. I just feel like being in this profession and having an addiction is not widely accepted. I believe that healthcare professionals carry extra shame about the behavior. Additionally, I think healthcare professionals need to learn a work/life balance that is really difficult when the demands on us are so high.

Thank you to my group in 2010 who annoyed me enough to pursue a new identity. I have one now, I made you guys proud!

I have been encouraged to write this for a while. Not better place than here. This is my goodbye letter to alcohol:


Dear Alcohol:

You have been the worse lover of my life. I have had some "not so hot" relationships in the past, but, you, you really take the cake. Do you remember when we first met? I was 15, at a house party. I got my first taste of you. I had thought about you long before this. I wanted to drink because I thought it would be a cool thing and give me the edge I needed to be a bad-ass. After I got my first taste of you, I was in love with you. I thought about you a lot of the time. You made me feel so confident and goofy. I was happy and funny. I could live without you for periods of time, but I couldn't wait to get my hands on you again.

Then, as the years went on, I thought about you more and more. When I finally got to the point when I could have you whenever I wanted, you took hold faster than I realized. You kept me isolated and somewhat happy. At least I didn't have to feel I guess. Somehow, I made it through college drinking almost everyday by my senior year. I guess I was lucky I was young, it would have been a shame to leave college with so little to go. You started to influence my abilities to work. You became a need now.

I really believed that I would outgrow you. I thought one day I would get sick of you. I just didn't. New stresses in my life, new social lives to create. I just couldn't get enough of you. Then I started to hide our relationship. I knew that others wouldn't approve if they knew what we had. I hid you in my crate of nylons in the back of the closet. I hid you in my backpack. At times, I had to hid you in my car. I still wanted and needed you. I was starting to choose you over everything.

I went back to nursing school and got away from you a little bit. By the end, however, your claws were in my brain and my body. My husband at the time found out the extent of our relationship. He wanted me to stop but even he was no match for you. I needed just 1 more year with you, to get over you. I needed to get a new job or new friends or a new car or buy a house. I had this life that I wanted. You just kept hanging around. I thought you were relieving all of my pain. Little did I know, you were just making it worse.

Once my divorced was finalized, you and I had it made. I didn't have to justify my relationship with you to anyone anymore. But the suddenly you stopped making me happy. You abused my mind, soul and body. You killed my spirit. I started thinking of suicide all the time. You made me cry, night after night. I woke up in the morning and still felt you. I even smelled of you. I wanted to die because of you. You had this unbelievable hold on my mind. I hear you whisper my name in the dead of night...."are you lonely, I know you, I care, just take me, it's OK, no one knows". All those lost hours of listening to you.....and 1 horrible night when I decided I would rather die. I overdosed on you and pills. 10 days in the psych ward and I still sugar coated our relationship.

I started to lose my life. You made me so physically ill. I couldn't eat anymore, but somehow I could still drink you. You bankrupted me financially. I had to change jobs because of our relationship. I became paranoid that people would find out about us. Some people picked up on our relationship and I banished them from my life. I continuously chose you. You convinced me that we were OK. For moments in time, you would help me stop shaking. You would take the edge off of my nerves. I could relax for a minute or two.

The morning I chose you leave you was so painful. I called my Mom at 6:00am on a cold, snowy February morning. She drove 80 miles to find me un-showered, unkempt, crying and embarrassed. There was no hiding now. There was no turning back. You and I were exposed. My Mom took me to the ER. It was 7:30 am I blew a 0.26 on the breathalyzer. I couldn't stop talking. I was swept away to the detox unit. I didn't know I could literally die without you. I knew emotionally I felt like I was dying without you, but physically, you could have killed me too.

 It took 5 days to detox from you. I had a questionable seizure. I fell. I couldn't go to the bathroom without assistance.  I was dehydrated, malnourished. I sat in the detox center, locked in like a caged animal. I wanted to get away from you so badly. Yet all I wanted to was go back to our old relationship. We could go back to the good times right? You could start making things better and more fun, right? I made a smart decision and went on to treatment from there.

I couldn't stop obsessing about you. I loved you and hated you at the same time. I thought of you every waking minute. You voice was so loud. There was no life without you. What was I thinking? And just like that, you crept back into my life. Your grip was even more powerful than before. You laughed at my weakness. You rejoiced in my sorrow. When I cried, my eyes stung from crying alcohol tears. I was no longer hydrated enough to produce tears. Even as you laughed at me, I still needed you. I couldn't get you out of my mind. Why would I stick around for the abuse? I had to reach out again to my Mom and friends. They were not happy when they found out I went back to you. They would do anything to help me stay away from you, but they will no longer tolerate you hanging around.

God had to step in. You were too powerful for me. He step up walls and barriers to keep you away. I wanted you back but everyone was telling me no. It was unhealthy to be together anymore. I just wanted you to take me away, just one last time. I wanted the opportunity to prove to people that you weren't lying to me. I could control you. I could have a life with you. Why didn't people understand what you had meant to me? You made my life so aggravating for the first year. I wanted you out, but I couldn't stop thinking about you!

Each day I am getting stronger of body, mind and will to stop your advances. You call from time to time now, but I don't pick up anymore. I have too much to lose now. I lost so much because of you - my pride, my self-respect, my brainpower, memories with family and friends. Although you provided immediate relief at times, I have better ways now. You should see the things I have done without you. It's amazing. I know you think that I am still weak and one day you will get me back. But you are not going to today. I said NO today, so take that.

I pray each day that your influence will continue to fade out of my life. I will never forget you, maybe one day I will  even forgive you, but life is just better without you. I can't do it anymore. Alcohol, you are the worst lover I ever had.

JT