Tears won't stop and they are making me feel angry that I don't have the control over them. This lack of control is a tremendously odd feeling since control is the zone I like to live in, like the way I can control my breathing inside my mask when I am fighting a fire in the bowels of a building. I can't tame these emotions the way we try to tame a fire. I can't water my feelings down, or compartmentalize them into neat tiny packages to put away on a shelf or crush them in the garbage compactor. Even a vicious workout doesn't soothe me. My crewmate texts me words of encouragement and I am so grateful because it reminds me that someone is thinking of me. I battle between moments of a flood of tears and sparks of rage. And between the two, I suddenly feel alive, and hopeful, and trust that everything is going to be fine. And that it's ok to allow myself to feel the depths of sadness and anger and that I won't disintegrate like a wet Kleenex lying in the bottom of a puddle.
At least for the next 24 hours I can put my gameface on and be 100% secure in knowing that I can handle whatever call is thrown my way.
I am headed into shift. Time to wipe my eyes and take a deep breath.