That Was the Moment I Knew I Couldn’t Keep Living Like This
In December of 2015, I was rushed to the hospital by ambulance with intense chest pain. I honestly thought I was having a heart attack.
It wasn’t.
It was a panic attack.
The doctors ran all the tests. My heart was “fine.” I was released the next day and sent home with the same quiet ache that had been building for years. The same pit in my stomach that whispered, this isn’t it. This can’t be it.
That ambulance ride wasn’t the beginning — but it was one of the big moments.
One of those life-pausing, soul-poking wake-up calls I couldn’t ignore.
“Just 13 More Years…”
A few months later, Chad and I were talking about the future.
We were talking about retirement, plans, life beyond work. I said out loud:
“All I need to do is get through the next 13 years, and then I can retire with a full pension…”
The moment those words left my mouth, I felt it in my bones:
FUCK. NO.
That wasn’t living. That was survival.
That sentence? It wasn’t a plan — it was a slow death.
And I knew in that moment… something had to change.
Then 2019 Hit Like a Freight Train
By December 2019, I had hit my mental capacity at work.
I was working all hours, numbing with alcohol, and retreating from everyone who loved me.
The panic attacks came multiple times a day.
I was cancelling plans, calling in sick, isolating, crumbling under the pressure of holding it all together.
I remember the day I drove to the doctor’s office.
As soon as I started talking, she looked me in the eye and said,
“You need a break. I’m putting you on medical leave — now.”
Three months. That’s what she gave me.
Three months to stop pretending I was okay.
Three months to start finding myself again.
And I did. Slowly. Messily. Imperfectly.
I went back to work way too early — part-time, in a new role — the day before the world went into lockdown. Talk about timing. Talk about transition.
That time gave me space. It planted seeds.
It was the first time I stopped long enough to ask:
What do I want? Who am I outside of this job? What if there’s more?
The Leap Came in 2021
I didn’t quit right away.
But I couldn’t un-know what I knew.
In August 2021, I finally did it.
I walked away from a 20-year career that looked “secure” on paper — but was crushing my spirit in ways no pension ever could protect.
No backup plan.
Just a belief in myself that felt louder than the fear.
What I’ve Learned Since Then
- Anxiety isn’t always something to fix — sometimes, it’s a messenger.
- Your body will scream when your soul is silenced.
- Numbing might keep you functioning… but it won’t help you feel alive.
- A pension is not worth sacrificing your peace.
And:
You don’t need a near breakdown to give yourself permission to choose differently.
If You’re Reading This Thinking, “That’s Me…”
I see you.
You’re not broken.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not wrong for needing rest.
You’re waking up.
You’re feeling the misalignment in your bones and your breath.
And the fact that you can feel that? That’s not failure. That’s truth.
That’s you returning to yourself.
Come join me inside House of the Rising Soul — my free community for women ready to rise, reconnect, and rewrite the rules.
You don’t have to hold it all in anymore.
You don’t have to do this alone.
Let’s rise. Together. 💛
