To my loved ones;

I wrote this to my husband, but it could be written to any one of my loved ones.  I am overworked and tired. Yet, I am encouraged to keep going because I am a "hero."   

Frankly, I have never seen myself as a hero.   I do the job because I can do it.  I have no sense of self-preservation.  I am a four time suicide survivor.  Yes, four times I have tried to take myself out.  Only for my body to tell me.  Nope.  Not this time.  The last time I really looked around my surrounding and asked myself  what am I missing?   

Purpose. 

I am missing what is my purpose in this world.   Having the ability of no self preservation helps in this field.  I think that is what adds to a first responders' depression, and why it is so prevailent in our field.  I have lost four friends this year alone.  Three from Facebook, one a coworker.   All self-terminated.  So when you are at the end of your rope, and your loved one are asking you "what can I do to help?" Show them this.  It has a lot of true in it.  

What do I want from you?

I want you to advocate for me; I advocate for others in my daily job that I stopped doing it for myself.  

I want you to be cheerleader for me; there are days a wake up and cry.  I work double what you work, at a harder rate, with more stressful situations, and a much more physical job.  

I want to be taken care of.  My job drains me.  Seeing people actively dying, battling Diseases, and being thrown discarded by loved ones is hard to deal with on a daily basis.  Coming home and finding "the littlest things that you freak out on" not done only adds to the depression I have been dealing with because I think you don't care either.  

I work, clean, raise your children, do laundry, make sure food is in the house, manage the house, advocate with government agencies, make appointments. When I come home my stress levels are through the roof.   So, yes, I don't eat.  Yet, you will sit at the table and shrug your shoulders.  

I need help.  I have been telling you that for years.  Maybe this will be my last cry; that will not be ignored.  

I am tired.