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f you’re noticing more fatigue, “blah” feelings, or a heavier kind of worry as evenings come earlier—you’re not broken; your body is responding to shorter light windows and rhythm shifts.

You promise yourself an early night… then keep scrolling, reading, or puttering because the day didn’t leave space just for you. That pattern has a name: revenge bedtime procrastination—delaying sleep to reclaim personal time, often on phones, which erodes tomorrow’s mood, focus, and health.

If you’ve ever crawled into bed intending to rest but found yourself an hour later still scrolling grim headlines, you’re not alone. “Doomscrolling” — compulsively consuming distressing news or content — increases stress and anxiety and can disrupt attention and sleep.

If you’re a woman trying to navigate anxiety, burnout, or emotional pain, please hear me — there’s nothing wrong with needing help.

We’re trained to help, to fix, to make things better. And when something breaks — when a relationship falters, when a patient dies, when a child drifts — our hearts interpret it as failure.

Recognize the difference between trauma stillness and holy stillness. Invite Jesus into the physical sensations of fear or numbness.

🌿 When Faith and Healing Finally Meet I used to believe faith meant pushing through. Work harder. Pray longer. Hold it together. Smile when your soul is trembling. But as a nurse practitioner and a survivor, I’ve learned that sometimes our bodies remember pain even after our minds try to move on. The shaking hands, racing heart, sleepless nights — those are the nervous system’s way of saying, “You’ve carried too much for too long.” And for those of us who love God, it can fe

Spiritual wellness is about connecting with something greater than ourselves. It’s a sense of purpose, meaning, and inner peace that can ground us when life feels chaotic.

I didn’t have to outrun my story or overwork for my value. I could be—and be held.

In that quiet, God met me. He didn’t demand more work. He didn’t ask me to push harder. He whispered: rest.

It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was the weight — the invisible one you carry when you care deeply.