>>29408940
> my work is emotionally exhausting.
> i regularly witness agony and death.
> i do my best to bring relief to them and their families,
> but it is never perfect.
> i often negate my needs, maybe because i'm a tryhard;
> maybe because the emotions in that place leave little room for mine.
> on a routine return home,
> my beautiful girl embraced me and asked about my day.
> i gloss over the experience and evade questions about feelings.
> i don't want to make her worry, yet my expressions give me away.
> my silence makes her worry even more.
> i can't share what i haven't processed,
> and i can't feel the love and attention that is finally being sent to me,
> blooming in front of my tired eyes.
> i walk past her to my office and collapse into my seat.
> i see something that resonated within my heart.
> it brought a lens to a pathetic need to dissociate.
> i wanted this cathartic reminder that my body keeps the score,
> and that my overstimulation and grief is valid.
