It’s been just over a month since I worked my last night shift, longer than that since I graduated from school.

My life, at this point, feels surreal. I have a day shift job (and NO SCHOOL!) with people who are thrilled than I am there, who are kind and appreciative, who have bent over backwards to make sure that I’m ready for this new position. I haven’t been lucky with much in my life, but when it comes to my work, I’ve hit the jackpot. My last employer wasn’t ideal but I learned A LOT (so much!), and I had fantastic coworkers–that job, without question, helped to prepare me for community mental health. 

Today was my first day of seeing patients: It. Was. Heaven. I have worked so hard for so long and, honestly, a day of seeing patients and being the one who gets to determine their treatment plan? Unbelievable. I cannot believe how lucky that I am that I get paid to do this! It’s every part of my job as a floor nurse that I loved plus more. I almost feel guilty at this point that I love my life so much … I mean, I KNOW that I’ve worked long and hard to land here, but it’s just too good to be true.

I have been STRUGGLING since 2009 (the divorce). Hell, maybe before that, too. Since my mom died in 1985, depression has been a chronic and frequent companion; interspersed with that, my best friend and surrogate mom, my big sis, also died while I was pregnant with my oldest; then the shooting where my then-husband shot and killed my brother; then family turmoil; then divorce and single parenthood and financial stress and school stress and work stress and raising teenagers and everything was always such a fight–or at least felt like such a fight to me. 

And now, on the precipice of this new journey, I feel settled. And peaceful. And calm. 

I’m nearing fifty, so I kinda feel like it’s time. Time to finally have the opportunity to relax and really start to enjoy the fruits of my labor (and Lord have mercy, it was a lot of labor).

My girls are THE GREATEST, my job is AMAZING, I’m more open to love/a relationship than I’ve been in over ten years, and I’m content. Dare I say I’m happy??? 

Hey, I’m a nurse, after all: saying I’m happy is like saying the unit is awfully quiet. There are some things you dare not utter.

I’ll stick with this being the beginning of my epilogue. All the major drama has been resolved; now it’s time for wrapping up loose ends and tying a big fucking bow around the whole thing–my gift to myself. My life.