It’s become a bit of joke, me messing around about fancying army guys-caveat- I’m one for joking and messing. It’s hardly going to change now at this hour of my life, is it.
Actually if you do one thing-check out the army guys-Jason Fox and Ollie Ollerton-because amazingly-they are tough but have worked the line and describe a process that is both honest and healing.
Yet, here on Zany Moutain the sunshine, laughs and craic-prevails. Until the shadow darkens on the side of the mountain and it doesn’t prevail any more. I’m struck by the images of people working on the frontline and I can’t bear to look. An ER doctor in New York commits suicide as does a paramedic. My heart stops for them.
I can’t bear to look at them twice- or even think of them. I worked the frontline for several years in a totally different capacity-homeless services in Dublin-in a difficult working situation. I was able until I wasn’t able anymore. At first enthusiastic, firing all the guns at it-until one day I woke up so dead and empty I knew I could never ever work in this manner again. To this day I suffer, haunted, I’ve recovered but quite honestly I don’t think I will ever unsee the pain or the trauma. It stalks me, silently, behind my smile. That’s the trouble with a game like this. I realise it’s no way as difficult as what frontline workers are going through now- my story was more psychological -much milder than those confronted by a deadly virus that can kill.
In our frontline workers I can see it in their faces and their fallen comerades. That burn. The haunt. The way they look intensely and emerge so wrecked. We are the types to set ourselves on fire until to keep others warm. Please I beg-don’t follow my example- if you are on the line-use those beautiful, human, kind, warm skills-you are born with-but remember mind your own precious souls and hearts and your body.
Before it is too late and that deadly coldness and restlessness settles in.
I’m with you guys. I remember.
Dedicated to those working in crisis (and the Capel St crew)