...
I said I was going back on duty, but the truth is, I'm exhausted and the thought of trying to hold a conversation with anyone just feels like too much. I even canceled going to that pottery class with Adrijana. All i want to do is sleep, and I can't sleep.
Besides, anyone who talks to me right now will just tell me that yeah, I should have gone ahead and gone to the Critical Stress Debriefing.
If only I didn't know that it's just a big crock of shit that seldom if ever actually debriefs you from your critical stress. All it does is give the administration a nice pat on the back saying there, there, yeah, we did something.
What a big bag of bull.
Because the Critical Stress doesn't hit in the 72 hours after the debriefing. It stays with you like a leech, gradually eating away until you finally starve it off. Or sometimes it goes to sleep until something wakes it.
I really hadn't thought about this in years - but when Diz and Spiegel were helping me off the station, I was there again, leaning on Lieutenant Jacobs' shoulder as he helped me off of another station...
What I wish I knew, is why, oh why, do I still remember that kid's name. I'm not even sure how I know it. I barely remember that day. I remember his blood soaking through my uniform.
He wasn't from Shingen. That's all I know.
Besides, anyone who talks to me right now will just tell me that yeah, I should have gone ahead and gone to the Critical Stress Debriefing.
If only I didn't know that it's just a big crock of shit that seldom if ever actually debriefs you from your critical stress. All it does is give the administration a nice pat on the back saying there, there, yeah, we did something.
What a big bag of bull.
Because the Critical Stress doesn't hit in the 72 hours after the debriefing. It stays with you like a leech, gradually eating away until you finally starve it off. Or sometimes it goes to sleep until something wakes it.
I really hadn't thought about this in years - but when Diz and Spiegel were helping me off the station, I was there again, leaning on Lieutenant Jacobs' shoulder as he helped me off of another station...
What I wish I knew, is why, oh why, do I still remember that kid's name. I'm not even sure how I know it. I barely remember that day. I remember his blood soaking through my uniform.
He wasn't from Shingen. That's all I know.