Not Responsible

I feel responsible for the world. Why … I can’t answer.

My brothers kids are having some difficult times. And, hence, my brother is having a tough time too.

He and I are not super close but we are close enough. We live vastly different lives and our approaches are different too.

He is a former Marine. Let’s start there. He barks out orders like a pro. Everything is very straight forward and blunt. With his kids he is a pussycat.

I spent the day comforting, counseling, interpreting. It’s what I do.

I counseled my brother on his kid’s illnesses.

I counseled and comforted my sister-in-law on her kid’s illnesses.

I talked to one of my docs on the phone … confirming what I had already said.

I’ll show test results to that same doc on Monday and get his counsel. And pass it on.

I comforted my niece and told her to express herself as I held in my tears and fears so I wouldn’t put them on her and make her feel bad.

I comforted and counseled my nephew as he teared up … and held in my emotions so he wouldn’t see my fear.

I’m told I’m not responsible for the world. I’m not responsible for others. But this has always been my job. Taking care of my people … my family. It’s actually something I do well.

But it is exhausting. Emotionally draining.

I didn’t cry all day until on the way home. Then I lost it.

Now I need comfort and I’m alone in my room. Oh … I talked to a couple friends. Even spoke with my EX. But at the end of the day I’m still in an empty and cold bed.

I’ll be with my Thrupple tomorrow. And I’ll again put on a brave face because I’m tired of feeling like a broken doll. But all I’ll want , really, is comfort. And I can’t ask.

I’m not responsible for all this. I can’t fix any of this. And it’s killing me.