Still Here: A Reflection on Survival, Gratitude, Self-Care, and Letting Go of the Ego That Almost Took Me Out!

Still Here: A Reflection on Survival, Gratitude, Self-Care, and Letting Go of the Ego That Almost Took Me Out!

Some people measure years by calendars, accomplishments, or goals met. I now measure mine by hospital bracelets, moments of clarity, and whether or not I was able to walk, breathe, speak, or simply be without pain. Since November 2022, I have been in and out of hospitals more times than I can easily count. This year alone, I spent so much time in emergency rooms, urgent care centers, doctor offices, and labs that I reached my insurance deductible halfway through the year — not by choice, but by survival. My most recent hospitalization lasted five weeks, and during that time, I lost basic functioning. I had to relearn how to walk, sit up, balance, hold utensils, and navigate even the most personal tasks. The silent part is that there was no dramatic pain — my organs were quietly shutting down while the world assumed I was okay.

What makes this more sobering is that while my body was failing, I was still thinking about work. My team had been dissolved, responsibilities expanded, deadlines accelerated, and major deliverables were still expected. I kept going, not because I was strong, but because I was conditioned. I internalized urgency and wore over-functioning like a badge of honor, when in reality it was a wound. I convinced myself that pushing was loyalty, commitment, or leadership — but it was none of those things. It was ego. Not the loud kind tied to arrogance, but the quiet kind tied to identity: the part of me that believed I had to earn my worth, prove my value, and sacrifice myself to be seen, needed, or validated. Sometimes ego isn’t boastful — sometimes it’s exhausted and afraid to stop.

I don’t blame myself for not knowing sooner, but I am grateful to know now: nothing and no one is worth more than my life. Jobs, relationships, causes, and assignments matter, but they cannot replace breath or restore health. I used to think that self-care meant rest, spa days, vacations, and physical pampering, but I now know that true self-care is protecting your existence. It is honoring your body when it whispers instead of waiting for it to collapse. It is understanding that your spirit is not an employee, and your worth is not a paycheck, output, or performance review. Self-care is not selfishness — it is self-honor. It is remembering that when you hand someone the responsibility to feed you, you also give them the power to starve you.

As we move toward the holiday season, many will gather around tables full of food, but not everyone will have the privilege of gathering at all. Some chairs will be empty. Some voices will be silent. Some memories will be all someone has left. The gift is not the table or the meal — the gift is presence. I am not celebrating because everything is perfect; I am celebrating because I am still here. And if you are reading this, so are you. That is reason enough for gratitude.

To anyone who is tired, performing, over-giving, or stretching themselves thin in the name of loyalty, duty, or expectation, please hear me clearly: do not wait until your body collapses to choose yourself. Slow down before you break down. Rest before you are forced to. Honor boundaries before they become barriers. And if the whisper inside of you says, “I can’t keep living like this,” listen.

PSA for Over-Functioners: You are not valuable because of what you produce — you are valuable because you exist. Rest is not a reward. Boundaries are not disrespect. Needing help is not failure. Overperforming is not purpose. And slowing down does not mean you are falling behind — it means you are staying alive. Take off the cape. Save one person: you.

Gentle Call to Action: Pause long enough to hear yourself. Check in with your body. Check in with your spirit. Check in with the parts of you that tell the truth before you speak it out loud. If anything inside you whispers, “I need rest… I need help… I need out… I need peace,” honor it the first time. Your life is worth protecting.

Dedicated to everyone who survived a year no one really saw.

- Scribe Diva Ink | CJMarie Holdings, LLC
“Writing is how I interpret and communicate what I see—shaping insight into strategy, and strategy into meaningful, measurable possibilities.”