Just An Entry Today

I'm certainly struggling. I'm at that point I recognize all too well. The point where I can (not so easily) pick up and leave. Because of this, I'm sizing up my surroundings. I'm considering my options. I know the value of my assets. I've tallied my debts.

I've attempted distraction. I'm bringing others down with me. That doesn't work for me. My honor code won't allow me to function in this manner much longer. I don't want to serve up another helping of this crap to friends who want to talk, but I feel the sadness oozing from me. Even without talking, they know. They read my face. I've been trying so very hard. But it's not working.

I've worked more hours. Unfortunately my line of work is wicked depressing. I have to admit this. Sure, sure...many have heard me say how rewarding it is, how we cure some, how I've learned so much...but shit, we disfigure some, many have pain, not a few die. This is not building me up. This is pulling me down. I've considered a potential move close to my current position. But taking the eyes of babies? Christ! What was I thinking?

I met up with a few friends last night, dinner first, then a couple drinks. A drunk fell out of the door of the bar, hitting his head. I helped care for him until the ambulance arrived. It was a strange scene. He just kept telling me that his brother died...that day. I don't know if it was the truth or not. But he was so flat in his tone of voice. I know he was drunk. He was plowed, obviously. But it struck me, after I got home just how very flat and lifeless he seemed. It frightened me.

My tears started soon after. I haven't cried earnestly since this whole ordeal began. I was surprised how big they (the tears) were. They flowed for longer than I would have expected, too. So now I've cried. And I'm still crying this morning. And it hasn't solved anything. I want to leave. I don't want to be in this room, in this city, with these memories. I've done this before. I know the drill.