Throwing the wounded to the sharks. It produces a maniac feeding frenzy. The water churns with the attacks and the blood flows. The question is at the end of it, will there be anything left?
My heart was thrown to the sharks today. Scolded that I did not do enough for others to set their minds at ease during the worst crisis I have lived through. Blamed for not reassuring others enough.
It wasn't enough that I was up for five nights day and night working on a solution. It wasn't enough that I reached out to comfort others whose load was not as heavy as mine. It wasn't enough that I went that long not knowing if our family would be the same, if we would ever be together again. It wasn't enough that we communicated that we were safe and we were taking a day off to recover together.
We did not reassure them enough that first day, and we were blamed for it. Bruised, bleeding, and still stunned, they threw me to the sharks. Open range to attack for what I did not do.
I'm still not sure there is a pulse left. I sit staring blankly off into space stunned. I really don't know if I have any feelings left. I don't know what is left of me. I don't know if there is a piece of my heart without jagged teeth marks on it. Today, I feel like it is a fatal injury. Tomorrow, I will get up and look at God and cry. Today, I don't have enough energy for tears.