The Rock. (reblog)

[This poem was received overnight, sent by my cousin, after I shared my guilt and shame post with her. She is studying psychology and has personal experience with PTSD and depression and has pointed out the high number of significant stress factors in my life both currently and over the last year that would leave a typical person exhausted and not coping. It helps to have another point of view, but mostly I feel a special warmth that this poem was written for me.]


When others are not helping
[He] is there

When others are obsessing
about how they can benefit
what they want
how this will affect them
[He] considers the other

When others are tired
lost confused tangled
stuck in a myriad of ways
Even though it costs him
[He] reaches out a hand

When family is uncertain
needing help
needing expertise
needing a shoulder
needing physical help
needing his mind
[He] is the rock

It costs:
being a rock
reaching out a hand
being an anchor that others hold on to.

It drains … but he doesn’t walk away,
just buries it inside
It exhausts … but he doesn’t pull the plug
just keeps holding it together til others are OK

What a rock
What an anchor
What a [Man]!


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