A Letter from a Night-Shifter

Dear Reader,

Please make sure to read my disclaimer at the end of this post.

Please forgive me if I sound harsh.

I work night shift, if you haven't picked up on that yet.

What does that mean?

In general, for nurses, there isn't a first or second or third shift, even though that's how they divvy out our pay {at the current organization at which I work}.

For nurses, there is a day shift and a night shift. 

These two shift overlap, which means you end up working well over twelve hours.

For the most part, if you work "days," you work from seven in the morning to seven in the evening; as for "nights," you work the opposite, seven in the evening to seven in the morning.

Catch my drift?

So, when I work, I sleep during the day.

I have blackout curtains that don't always seem to do the trick.  

Closing my closet door still allows some light to come through into my room in the afternoon hours of the day.

On my days off I sleep better during the day than at night; but don't mind that sentence, because on my days off all I do is sleep because my body doesn't know what to do.

I've freaked it out enough.

And when your body freaks out enough, so does your mind, and then your emotions.

Sometimes I can't sleep on my "night" between day one and day two of a four day stretch because I hear the noises.

I hear the lawn mower and leaf blower in the middle of January; the beginning of winter.

I hear the elephant feet and the loud talking throughout the house always at 2:30 PM, which just so happens to be my 2:30 AM.

I normally end up crying, hoping that I can somehow cry myself to sleep, but I always just end up with a headache.

I don't get to spend my nights at home like every normal person does; I miss watching the news with my dad on the couch; watching a hockey game with my family in the den; laying next to my mom as she scratches my back and she watches some hallmark chick-flick.

I miss going to sleep when it's dark and allowing the sun to wake me up in the morning.

I miss having the energy to go to the gym whenever I wanted.

"You need to be stronger," you tell me.

I'm trying so hard, but there are going to be moments where I fall victim, because I can only be strong for so long.

There are so many moments where I feel alone; I don't need you to always understand how I feel, I just need you to help me feel like I'm not as alone as I sometimes feel.

I need you to listen to me and to be my strength when I can't see the hope.

Because frankly, I am so exhausted of all this.

"Well I'm sorry some of us have normal schedules." 

Thanks for your attempt to apologize, but that statement only makes me feel worse. 

But this is not my choice.  I don't want to work on night shift any more.  I hate how it makes me feel. I hate the person I am becoming because of it.

I'm always tired.

I'm cranky.  I would rather be lazy than be productive.

I've lost hobbies because I'm just so exhausted.

There are moments where I don't even feel alive.

On a long stretch of days off, I used to be able to get back to my normal self after two days of resting; now even four days doesn't always help.

I'm drowning and it's all my fault.

Because I say this isn't my choice, but if it wasn't, I would have made a decision for change by now, and I haven't.

Night shift is stressful.

Being a nurse is stressful in itself; and ICU nurse is a whole other ballgame.

Then, when you add being on nights to the whole equation, I don't even know how to finish that metaphor.

I know what day shifters and 'normal people' are going to think when you read this.

Stop being a drama queen, it isn't that bad.

My counter argument is this: have you ever worked on nights long term? I mean more than like two weeks, more than two months even.

If you have, I'll listen to you with my ears open.

If you haven't, I really don't want to hear what you have to say because there is no way in this world you understand what I am going through.
Also, if you have worked nights but it seems it was approximately 20 or even 10 years ago that you have done so, please let me point out that the times are changing, fast. And things that you knew even 2 years ago are no longer the same.
thx, millennials. 

I am so beyond thankful for my fellow night-shifters because they know what I am talking about.

To be honest, I love literally everything about being on nights except the "nights" part.  

Since that can't fundamentally change, something else has got to change.

I know.

Something in my life needs to change.

I'm working on it; other people tell me they are working on it.

It'll all work out. 
I'm betting on it.

*Disclaimer*

I work in the ICU, so if anyone knows that my life isn't as bad as other people's lives and situation as bad as other people's situations, it's me. 

I see the pain people are feeling on a day-to-day basis.

Don't tell me I should be happy because I'm not on my death bed, because I still have this person and this person in my life.

I see people pass from this life into the next more frequently than you could imagine.  I take family's burdens from their shoulders of their dying loved one as much as I can.  And when everyone leaves the patient's room, I am the one who sees life and death in it's most vulnerable state.

Don't tell me I should be happy when I am not.

Don't play this comparison game; because in the end, it is more toxic than just being unhappy.