We are stress junkies.
We’re doing something. It must be done.
If we’re stressed, we’re important.
Stress reminds us we’re alive.
Adrenaline makes us feel something.
We’ve built up tolerance,
We get antsy when it withdraws.
Who are we if not fixing someone’s problem?
Especially the world’s problems?
Who are we if we’re not work?
Who are we if we’re not better than?
Who are we?
We don’t know how to stop, or slow.
We’ll keep hurting ourselves to secure our fix.
Do you know what it’s like to feel alive, at rest?
How it feels to have value, in silence?
Can you just breathe until calmness comes?