Reset with Jes

People always ask me:

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen as a nurse?”

And I think they’re expecting something funny.

Something bizarre.
Something they can laugh about over dinner.

But sometimes I answer honestly.

I tell them about the tragedy.
The fear.
The things that happen to real people on the worst day of their lives.

Then their face changes.

They look shocked.
Sad.
Almost disappointed that the story wasn’t entertaining.

And that’s when I remember:

What became a normal shift for us is not normal life for most people.

So now, sometimes I tell them about the patient who got something stuck somewhere it definitely did not belong…

because explaining the truly “crazy” things can feel less like storytelling and more like trauma dumping on someone who was not prepared to carry it.

Healthcare workers develop dark humor for a reason.

It is not because we are heartless.

Sometimes humor is the safest version of the story we can tell.

The real stories stay with us.

And sometimes, they stay between the people who understand what it means to witness someone’s worst moment—and then walk into the next room like nothing happened.

Nurses: do you give people the real story, or the dinner-party version?

“Stay positive.”

“Choose gratitude.”

“Leave your problems at the door.”

“Just focus on the good.”

That advice may sound encouraging—but in healthcare, it can become dangerous.

Because there are nurses, healthcare workers, and patients suffering as a direct result of understaffing, workplace violence, impossible workloads, inadequate resources, and systems that repeatedly ask people to do more with less.

Telling someone to smile through that is not support.

It is silencing.

Toxic positivity minimizes lived experiences by treating a reasonable response to an unhealthy environment like a personal attitude problem.

You can be grateful for your career and still be exhausted by what it demands.

You can love your patients and still feel compassion fatigue.

You can be resilient and still need safer staffing, stronger boundaries, meaningful recovery, and actual support.

You can search for hope without pretending harm is not happening.

Real positivity does not deny pain.

Real resilience does not require silence.

And nervous system regulation should never be used to help people tolerate conditions that need to change.

Sometimes the healthiest response is not to “stay positive.”

Sometimes it is to tell the truth:

This is too much.
This is not sustainable.
This needs to change.

Healthcare workers do not need another pizza party, gratitude challenge, or reminder to smile.

They need to be heard, protected, adequately staffed, and supported before they reach complete collapse.

Because asking people to remain positive inside a harmful system is not wellness.

It is avoidance dressed up as encouragement.

I am a 20-year RN and I built a free clinical assessment that tells you exactly which burnout pattern has taken over — and the specific steps to get yourself back.
Not generic steps. Not a mood board. A clinical protocol built for the nurse brain.
Link in bio.

Healthcare taught us to catch everyone else’s decline—but not our own

Your nervous system may be stuck in a loop it does not know how to exit.

It has a clinical name. It has a clinical solution. And it has nothing to do with bubble baths or gratitude journals.

I built a free 10-minute assessment that identifies exactly which burnout pattern is running your nervous system — and what to do about it before your next shift.

Link in bio. Takes 10 minutes. Built by a nurse, for nurses.

Comment BURNOUT and I will send it directly to your DMs.

The burnout didn’t start when you broke down.

It started when everyone praised you for never stopping.

For picking up extra shifts.
For skipping breaks.
For staying late.
For being the strong one.
For always saying, “I’m fine.”

Pathological productivity can look like ambition.

Identity collapse can look like dedication.

Compassion fatigue can look like “just having a bad attitude.”

And because healthcare teaches us to react to a crisis, many nurses wait until they can’t sleep, can’t think clearly, can’t connect with their families, or can’t imagine working one more shift before they finally ask for help.

We monitor everyone else’s warning signs while ignoring our own.

Burnout rarely happens overnight.

It leaves clues:

You stop laughing.
You dread the next shift.
You feel numb instead of compassionate.
You need constant scrolling, spending, food, or alcohol to come down.
You don’t know who you are without your badge.
Rest makes you feel guilty instead of restored.

You are not lazy.
You are not weak.
And you are not broken.

Your nervous system adapted to an environment that kept asking you to respond, protect, perform, and keep going.

But we should not have to wait for complete collapse before we begin recovery.

That is the V.I.T.A.L. Shift:

Recognize the patterns.
Notice the warning signs.
Restore your capacity.
Protect the person behind the profession.

Because preventing burnout should be treated with the same urgency as treating it.

Comment BURNOUT if you are ready to stop waiting for a crisis to take care of yourself.