13 February 2009 – at risk


The whole week has been the same except each day I’m in a different room, cleaning. Walking. Trying to shut the thoughts out of my head. If I stopped they came crowding back. All the people I knew. All the agents I dealt with. My team of reps. The itinerary. The stats. At risk. At risk. At risk.

I woke in the night crying. I had conversations in my head. All the reasons they should keep me. All the other jobs I could do at Dream Factory. In my head I begged and pleaded. I didn’t have any conversations in the real world. My phone kept ringing but I didn’t answer it. Texts kept pinging in but I didn’t look at them. I turned my phone off.


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