I am high risk. My wife is a front line healthcare worker.

Odds are good she& #39;s gonna bring this shit home.

There is a non zero chance that when she does, I wont survive it.

I took a drive to pick up dinner last night.

Out of nowhere I suddenly had the thought that

maybe I should write "milestone" letters to leave for my kids for their birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc.

The last time I ever considered writing such a letter was when I was on active duty on 9/11.

So, yesterday, I took a drive. It took an hour.

I bawled the whole fucking way. And no one knows this. I can& #39;t tell my wife - she HAS to work, and can& #39;t carry this concern with her. And I sure as hell can& #39;t tell the kids, because it already takes everything I have to try to be cheery and provide them some sense of normalcy

during the day.

And I& #39;m not telling my therapist because then she& #39;s gonna want to process this shit and I AIN& #39;T GOT TIME FOR THAT right now.

So, I& #39;m telling Twitter....because why the fuck not.

Maybe 100 years from now a sociologist will find this thread and use it to

help understand some of the unique psychological traumas we faced during this time.

Or maybe I& #39;m just mentally jerking off.

Or screaming into the void.

Or.....i don& #39;t know what.

In any case..... I& #39;ve got some letters to write.

Thanks for listening.