What do we do when we fall down..?

This Saturday I could not stop crying. And I didn't get it. It must be that I'm tired I thought. But it was like the floodgate of my soul had opened up and now the water was rushing so fast it was impossible to stop.
It's the simplest factors that start those things. This time it was the skype date that got interrupted. And we hung up quite abruptly. And all of a sudden my intense no-stopping-no-time-to-think-week had come to a halt, and I found myself alone in a big house with no possibility to go anywhere and no one to talk to. And so it was like something fell on me and I just started sobbing.

No wonder. I had been going non-stop for a week. In a new culture. With no one here to vent with - just e-mail to Sweden. I had felt overwhelmed and small and insecure, but there had been no place for those feelings. And I had seen things. Hard things. And I wasn't ready for how you deal with those things. Cause you don't. That's the thing. You watch and register and feel mostly nothing. It's too hard to understand. It's not at all how I thought it would be. I thought I would cry on the spot if I saw something that was difficult to see. And even after crying I don't think I've understood anything. But somehow my heart does, I think, because

I found myself crying for the prisoners, and the starving kids, and the camps, and the stench in those camps, and for the woman who gave us her number because she needed a tent - just minutes before the storms rolled in. Really, you want to break apart for all of that. But you can't. And you can't help. Not really. But you want to. So you cry a little more for your own incapacities. And for the cruelty of the world. And the unfairness of it all.

You have to deal with that too. The guilt of having more. Of being okey.
But, like Tobi scolded me: "do you think anyone here lives worse than they can afford??" No. Of course not. And I have no option - I live with the one contact I had in the country. And it wouldn't do anyone any good if I were to join the camps. But it's just there. The guilt.

But some tears, and a nap, and a late night councelling session on skype, with 30 seconds delay, later I was feeling - not great - but much better (thanks Gustav by the way - that was not an easy task!).

This morning I was going through the greeting process that is a great part of haitian culture - got to say good morning to each and everyone, ask how they're doing, kiss etc - and I answered Tobi "well, I had a breakdown Saturday, but I'm better now". He said something like "good that you can admit that and think no lesser of yourself". And I think that's important. This is just how it goes. I need to not put such high pressure on myself, because I've realized that I have this feeling of needing to contribute so greatly starting right now. Like people expect me to prove that I'm useful. And so I get stressed out and don't allow myself to see that this is ONLY the second week, and that I am JUST starting to learn both the language and the organization. I have to remember to breathe. Simply.

Just breathe.