It’s been quite a while since my last update.
Hello again, everyone.
To be honest… for the past six months or so, I’ve been carrying this quiet, heavy feeling because of things at work—specifically, my clinic’s director.
By the end of last month, I’d reached the point where I couldn’t even stand to see his face…
And this week, I finally couldn’t bring myself to go to work at all.
There were so many things I wanted to write about here (not work-related things, I promise),
but I guess I was pushing myself too hard in daily life… and I just didn’t have the energy left to sit at my computer.
I’ve been working at this pediatric clinic for about six years now.
In that time, we’ve been through the nightmare of COVID, staff changes again and again… so many things.
But I know every workplace has its struggles. Everyone deals with things. Everyone’s doing their best, right?
Two years ago, I actually couldn’t go to work for a while.
Back then, the problem was a lack of staff.
I felt this awful pressure: “I can’t collapse. I can’t take time off. There’s no one to cover for me.”
That stress broke me. I suddenly had to take two months off.
That time, the director finally took staffing seriously and hired more people.
Once that was solved, I was able to return to work.
But this time… it’s different.
It’s not stress from too few staff.
It’s disappointment, frustration, and… this quiet feeling that I’ve done all I can here. That’s why I don’t think I can go back.
He keeps telling the staff how the clinic’s income is down, how the business is in the red.
Then he tells us to come up with ideas to fix things.
So we suggest ideas—lots of them—but all we get in return are reasons why they won’t work, why they’re impossible. And then… they get tossed aside. Just like that.
We, the staff, are always thinking about what’s best for the patients.
But the director… he seems more focused on rival doctors, protecting his own medical philosophy, and not budging an inch.
Of course, pride and stubbornness aren’t unusual in doctors. I get that.
But if that’s the case, then why does he keep burdening us with all this “red budget” talk?
If he wants ideas, he should be open to real discussions.
If he’s just going to dismiss them all, then he should think of a plan himself and give us clear instructions. But he doesn’t.
Little by little, I started to feel like…
Why am I wasting my ideas, my thoughts, my effort here?
Wouldn’t it be better to use my time, my energy, for myself—to create something meaningful for my own life?
That’s when I started seriously thinking about side work.
What could I do? What do I want to try?
Since the beginning of this year, I’ve been taking little steps—quietly preparing for my own future.
My plan was to build the foundation for a side business by the time my daughter finished her high school entrance exams next year…
But last month, the director said something that completely broke me.
I don’t think he meant any harm—but I didn’t have the emotional strength left to brush it off anymore.
I struggled through the next three weeks… but then my heart just stopped.
I finally told them I needed to take a break.
I feel so sorry for my coworkers, truly.
But if I start thinking about that, I’ll push myself too far again… and this time, I might really break.
I can’t let that happen.
I have a daughter.
For her, I’m the only mother she’s got. I cannot break.
I went to see a mental health doctor and got a diagnosis: Adjustment Disorder.
Three months of rest.
Though… I doubt I’ll be off for the full three months.
I want to take this time to rest my heart, do some things I haven’t been able to, and gently think about the future.
Lately I’ve had no appetite, no energy to cook… dinner was a mess.
So I asked my daughter: “Should we try making some new dinners together, ones we’ve never made before?”
She lit up and said, “Yay!!”
And the requests started pouring in.
I realized… I’d been making her hold back a lot, too.
The clinic I visited was recommended by a friend, and it turned out to be wonderful.
The atmosphere, the kind receptionist, the gentle doctor… everything felt right.
When the doctor listened to me and truly understood, I couldn’t help crying.
But on the way home… my heart felt a little lighter.
In Japan, mental health care still feels like this big, hard-to-reach thing.
Going to see a mental health doctor feels like such a hurdle. There’s still a stigma.
But overseas, it feels so much more natural.
People see counseling as part of everyday healthcare—no big deal.
I wish it could be that way here, too.
If your heart gets tired… you go talk to someone.
You let them help you feel a little lighter.
You let the small stresses out early—before they turn into something big.
Then you can breathe, feel better, and move forward again.
I wish that could be normal here.
I never thought I would need it, either. Two years ago, I hesitated to go.
And honestly… the doctor I saw back then was strict and scary, not a good match.
But this time… I met the right doctor, and I feel like I was saved.
So if you’re feeling overwhelmed—don’t push yourself.
It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let someone listen.
It’s okay to use the power of a professional to take care of your heart.
Let’s all take care of ourselves.
Let’s process stress, gently, little by little.
And let’s keep going… at our own pace.
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