12/13/2025
Some days my work with addiction and mental health is unbearably heavy.
I sit with people who have survived things no human should have to survive.
Someone intentionally overdosed more than 30 times and is still here.
A child given he**in by their own parent, then sold for drugs.
Young adults and teenagers pulled out of s*x trafficking.
Someone pulled the trigger and the bullet was redirected away from the brain and now relives that every day.
THIS IS JUST A TUESDAY
yeah, this work is stressful and It’s emotionally expensive. It stays with you long after the day ends. I need to keep up my own self care without guilt.
People still ask why do I do it? I frequently ask too…
Because beneath the chaos, the trauma, the addiction, and the complete wreckage… there is still a human being who didn’t choose any of this.
Because survival is not the same thing as healing and someone has to be willing to sit in that space long enough for healing to even become possible.
Because hope doesn’t always show up loud and shiny. Sometimes it whispers, “What if this time is different?”
Because addiction and a lot of mental health diagnoses are survival strategies that outlived their usefulness. Well, this is my perspective.
Because when someone has been unseen their entire life, being witnessed can be the first crack where healing starts.
I sit with humans whose nervous systems learned chaos before safety. People who were harmed by the very ones who were supposed to protect them. People whose brains adapted to survive things no one should ever endure.
I hold the stories not because I can fix them, but because being witnessed without judgment can change a nervous system, a brain, a life.
This work breaks your heart.
And yet somehow… it keeps it wide open...
