I’m wondering if my instinct to take life so seriously is part of why I’m so run-down. I’ve always felt this need to run around with my arms outstretched, on alert in case anyone falls, in case anyone needs me. I love my people, and I want to be there for them. Show up for them. Save them, because I love them too fiercely to see them suffer. But maybe I need to let people just … do their thing, so I can do mine. As we’ve gotten older, my brothers have proven themselves to be capable adult humans.
