A New Year’s Eve Reflection

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I find myself reflecting not just on 2025, but on the last few years — and how they brought me here.

In 2022, my life couldn’t have looked more different than it does now. I had recently been promoted. I was Employee of the Year at the company I worked for. I was happy.

It’s funny how quickly things can change.

In 2023, my role required me to travel nearly 50% of the time. Living out of a suitcase, never fully unpacked, never fully present at home — it took a toll. That was also the year I began showing signs of liver failure, though I didn’t know what was happening yet.

And 2023 was the year my relationship became abusive.

A coworker once told me, “You can’t have both work and home be a mess at the same time — you need somewhere safe to land.” That year, both my work life and my home life were unraveling.

As my health declined and my home life became increasingly unstable, I struggled to meet the demands of a very big job. Eventually, I was let go. At the same time, the abuse worsened. So did my health, my addiction, and my isolation from family and friends.

By early 2024, I was at the end of my rope — and finally ready to leave. Getting out took many steps: police reports, court dates, a new place to live, a new car, a CPTSD diagnosis, and a lot of ongoing therapy.

Leaving was freeing. I reconnected with my family and friends. I found the love of my life. But I still couldn’t shake my addiction.

In 2025, after finally qualifying for Medicaid, I checked myself into detox. While I was there, my liver and kidneys failed. I was told I needed a liver transplant within the month — it was my only option.

I was incredibly lucky. Less than 72 hours after being listed, I received my transplant. There were still hurdles — testing to see if my body could withstand surgery, commitments to sobriety, and participation in recovery. But I made it through.

As of this writing, I am six months post-transplant and six months and twelve days alcohol-free. I’m healthier — and happier — than I’ve been in years.

These years have been hard. There’s no denying that. But they didn’t break me. They gave me clarity.

I know myself better now. I know I never want to return to a large corporate role. I know that time with the people I love is the most precious thing I have.

These experiences are what inspired me to start Lantern & Rune.

I know what it’s like to be so sick, so sad, or so scared that even getting out of bed — even taking a shower — feels overwhelming. I know what it’s like to live without feeling safe. To learn your CPTSD triggers. To advocate for your care when doctors dismiss you. To be judged for addiction.

And I know what it’s like to navigate Medicaid, SSDI, and complex systems when your life — and your medications — depend on them.

I don’t want anyone to navigate those systems alone.

I want to be your advocate. The person you call when everything feels overwhelming and you can’t make sense of it — not in a corporate way, not with company interests in mind, but with yours.

That’s the energy I’m carrying into 2026.

Wishing you all a safe, restful, and happy New Year,

Zee