My Strength

I’m in what feels like a downward spiral. Ever since my shot at medic ended it seems like I don’t know where I want to go, or how to get there even if I know what I want. I don’t know how I’ll survive, I don’t know how I’ll make a living, how I’ll continue school, anything. I’ve gotten to the point that you could probably call it depression. I don’t feel up to doing anything.
No one at work really notices, none of my classmates notice. I try my best to hide it. Hell, I pick up extra shifts so other people at work can do fun things, but really I just want a chance to throw myself into something and pretend the world doesn’t exist.
Everything the last year has made me question every little thing that has happened. From my failed engagement, to feeling like I have no prospects with other people, to failing at work, failing at school, failing at life. Seeing people die regularly, wondering what is the point behind everything.
I work at a hospital, and I float to every type of floor. I see some of the people in our ICU and Neuro unit, the drunks in our ED, the psych patients in our Behavioral unit, and just wonder. What is the point of living if that is your quality of life? But then I think about something that helps give me strength.

That thing, or actually those people, are my parents.
While I was in High School, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. A very rare type that originally was a skin cancer that metastasized through the lymph system into the breast tissue. She didn’t give up even when she was told what was going on. Throughout my high school career I saw her fight and struggle but never give up.
I drove her to Albuquerque for her first biopsy, because my father was out of country on business. I helped out wherever I could. I wanted to make sure I could always be there to help whenever I could. I made sure me and my brother tried to not stress her out. But being high schoolers we found a way to do it anyways. She never broke down to us, but I could tell that it was a struggle just to get through some days.
Money became tight for us because of the cost of driving 140 miles round trip for her treatments several times a week, but she tried her best to make sure we were never wanting, and she succeeded. She fought harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. She was at every event we ever did in school, made every meeting.
And come our senior year we got one of the best presents I could ever imagine. My mothers cancer was in remission. One of my most treasured memories from high school is something that she would kill me if she knew that I had. It’s a picture. Of her. At me and my brothers graduation party. She’s sitting at a table with friends, enjoying herself. I can only speak for myself, but her being there with us and our dad was the best present I ever could ask for.
I guess that’s part of the reason I wanted to go to school close to home my first year in college. I wanted to make sure everything was ok.
The other person who is my strength is my father. He has been there and supportive through everything. I might have made him mad, but it was always forgiven and forgotten. He helped my mother through the most difficult time in her life. He always did his best to make sure we were brought up right. And I can’t even begin to tell him how happy I am that he succeeded. I’m not perfect, not by any stretch, but he has tried to make sure I am a good person.
My dad served his country proudly for 20 years of his life and for that I am always grateful that I had a father who was selfless enough to give up those years and willing to do what his country asked of him. His career is what gave me the idea that I wanted to serve in some small way, and probably the reason I first got into EMS. He was always trying to help those who needed it through his church or from work. At first I didn’t understand it, but now it makes me fill up with pride that he is my father.

EDIT: This has been sitting in my draft page for over 6 months. I never could figure out how to end it, but I think I will just let it speak for itself.