It is so odd here. I feel, and felt all the way to getting this job and house, that I was nudged to end up here. Away from ICU. Away from Texas. Away from Washington. Away from Portland even. Or Santa Barbara. Definitely away from the midwest and the east coast. All the times I tried going back, making connections there, nothing ever stuck.
But I wonder if I've just run away to here because it felt safer, easier.
It's hard to know if I was doing my job for the last 2 years because it was my 'calling' and 'it was made for me,' or because I found the thing that was easiest for me. Laziness?
Because now I have this feeling I should be in a hospital, fighting for people's lives. Instead I'm doing some shitposting on the internet and a few nasal swabs. Calming a tiny number of people down in our community, which has kept itself relatively safe so far because our leaders are smarter than other places.
It's. Weird.
And I'm still so scared. And angry I've had to be alone through this. And grateful. Because I can fall apart or not, I'm in control of my daily routine, with no one to irritate me or ask me for more. And because if something happens to me, no one depends on me, so I can just go, my money and things might help others.
But have I done all I can? Have I? I'm not sure what else I'm capable of doing. My ICU skills are out of date, and my ability to handle stress is dramatically different than 12 years ago.
I'm so angry that I still, after all this, after all I've tried so hard and failed at, that I still have this desire to have this all mean something, to have it be for a reason, to be working toward a happy ending in my own life, soonish. This desire to make a difference that helps the world. And to have love involved, before it's too late. It might be too late.
Today I thought about how I used to believe love could change things, I used to believe it was alchemy, that it could heal. And I did notice it had changed me, some. And maybe that's the point.
But as much as it seems like someone has kept me safe so far, that the patterns I can almost see seem real-- it also seems fragile, random, lucky, like a mirage.
And I am very very much alone.
