I was the woman I'm writing for.
I'm not writing this from the outside looking in. I'm writing this from the other side of what you're living right now.
Full-time nurse. Three children. A business. Two countries.
I was a full-time nurse, a mother to three young children, a wife, running a side hustle, and financially supporting my family back in Zimbabwe. From the outside, I was capable, committed, and holding everything together. On the inside, I was disappearing.
The moment I knew something was truly wrong.
It wasn't a dramatic breakdown. It was quieter. I started snapping at my children — for harmless, ordinary child things — and the guilt each time was enormous. I was exhausted after a full night of sleep. Not the tired that rest fixes. A deeper kind. A tired that had moved into my bones.
Blood tests came back normal. I knew I wasn't fine.
I went to my GP. Everything was fine on paper. And yet I was not fine, and I knew it. This is what depletion looks like — it doesn't show up in a blood panel. So I started my own research. I tried teachers, therapy, prayer. Some helped a little. Most didn't touch the specific thing that was broken in me.
Then I found the approach that changed everything.
I found a teacher speaking about healing your emotions. He spoke so directly into what I was carrying that I couldn't ignore it. That was the beginning of my real journey back to myself. I found my way back. And this work is what I wish someone had placed in my hands during the hardest years.