Shoulders ache like they’re made of lead, not bone and muscle. I keep waiting for someone to ask if I'm okay after I help them with whatever crisis they’re having, moving apartments, relationship drama, work emergencies. The silence is deafening. It’s always deafening, but some days it’s a little louder, like today. I keep thinking about what @Morgan said about recognizing patterns and breaking them but what if the pattern is just...me. Maybe I’m the problem, maybe I’m just designed to be a doormat because honestly, I don't know who I would be if I wasn’t helping everyone else. What would be left?