I was almost relieved to find myself being the only person in the Zoom call so far. It was precisely noon after all. I'll give them a few minutes, I thought while I analyzed the several tabs I had open. Over 1000 unread emails, reminders on my calendar that haven't been tended to, and half-written papers strewn across my monitor. I let out a large sigh followed by task-oriented thoughts.
"Hello?" A voice said.
"Oh hi! Sorry I didn't see you hop on the call. How are you?" I smiled.
"Good, good. Sorry, I'm late." She said wearily. The bags under her eyes were prominent and dark, almost weighing her eyes down with them, leaving a sunken expression.
"No need for apologies," I said. This seemed to catch her off-guard as her eye twitched ever so slightly. "Thanks again for taking the time out of your day to speak with me! As you know, I'm conducting an interview on behalf of the autism center here, where I act in the capacity of a consultant. I'm just going to ask you a couple of questions about your experience working at this center as an employee. Just so I'm not focused on writing while we speak, would it be ok if I recorded our conversation solely for the purpose of the transcription?"
She hesitated before asking, "is the center going to hear or see this?"
"No, absolutely not! Your name will stay anonymous and the audio or transcript won't be distributed to anyone at the autism center." I assured.
She seemed to hesitate again. "Ok sure."
I nodded and started auto-transcribing the conversation. "So, what do you do at the autism center?"
"I'm part of the janitorial staff." She said dimly.
"Great! Do you have interactions with any of the other staff members or residents outside of professional duties?" I asked.
"Um... yes I guess," Her voice trailed, almost confused.
"In what capacity? Like chatting in the staff lounge for example?" I asked.
"No... I usually keep to myself with other staff." She said timidly. "But I do talk to one of the residents."
"Oh great, can you describe what you guys talk about or do?" I questioned.
"Uh... actually he's my little brother. So I guess we just talk about everything. Mainly me just checking up on him during the day." She studied her hands intently.
"That's great that you get to spend extra time with him! Seems like you two are close." I smiled.
She shrugged with her head still stooped, staring at her lap. "Yeah. It's hard though."
"May I ask what are some of the difficulties you're facing?" I questioned.
"This is anonymous right?" She suddenly stared right into my eyes, her eyes sparkled with tears accumulating.
"Yes, of course, everything stays between you and me. I don't even share your name with my colleagues and the autism center won't even get the transcript, they'll just get an aggregated report of tons of other interviews lumped into a few trends. Like, 'your employees feel burnt out' for example." I assured her. I wanted to reach out into the screen and hold her hand. She looked like she had been through hell and back with nowhere to turn. Scarred, burnt. Ashes.
"Ok because I had a really hard couple of days. Maybe weeks, I don't know. And I know this is a random interview for a work thing in the middle of the stupid day but I feel like I know you. I know you and you know me. Somehow, even though we've never met. I don't know, don't ask me what I mean." Tears streamed down her face at this point, she was getting a little agitated.
"I'm here for you. I've been told I'm a good listener, I won't judge. This doesn't even need to be in my analysis, don't worry." I was hoping she could feel my genuine through the screen.
She took a sharp breath and started, "my brother has autism. Obviously."
I nodded.
"I'm not going to bore you with my sob story of a childhood but he was adopted by my shitty parents who were obviously unfit to raise children. He went undiagnosed for years. And when the news finally broke, they left." She looked away, trying to hide her tears.
"They left?" I clarified.
"They couldn't take it, whatever that means, and they disappeared off the face of the planet. They could be dead for all I know. And I ended up taking custody of my brother."
"Oh wow, that must have been so hard..." I empathized.
"I was just in college. I didn't even know my brother that well because I lived away from them. But how can you look at a kid and just think 'Yeah, I'm ok sending this kid to foster care.' I couldn't. I couldn't..." She sniffed.
"That was really big of you. Extremely courageous too, given you were just a kid yourself." My heart ached.
"But I'm not though. I'm not big or courageous or anything. I am my parent's daughter." She scoffed. "You want to know the worst thing in the world?"
I nodded.
"I thought about killing myself at least once a day back then. At least." She buried her face in her hands, ashamed. The call fell to silence for a few moments. "I thought to myself, wow those bastards got out easy. And here I am fighting for my life and this autistic kid's life. It's not fair. It's not fair."
I was stunned. Tears had rimmed my eyes and I could do nothing but sit silently in solidarity, hundreds of miles away. I went to say something but only a weak whisper left my lips and I fell silent again.
"I would stand in the shower for hours, watching the water hit my skin, wondering if I stood there long enough if this hand would still be my hand and if this skin would still be ... me. Like water would magically melt me into my true form. Some sick twisted version of my parents."
"No." My voice cracked. "You're far from being your parents. Because look, at the end of the day, you're here. And your love for your brother is so bright it's blinding. He's in an amazing facility getting help and you've taken a job to be close with him and help him through."
She shook her head in disbelief. "I love him. But it doesn't feel like love. It feels like I'm constantly just trying to evade my guilt from years ago."
"Love isn't this huge explosive moment where your life changes and then suddenly every day is just roses and peaches. It's far from that. Love is, at most, an urge at first. Maybe a little tug at your sleeve. And from there, it's a series of conscious, intentional decisions. It's just a lifetime of decisions." I wiped a stray tear from my face.
"Decisions..." She whispered.
She gave a small nod and thanked me for the talk but said she had to go start her shift soon at the autism center. I told her to take care and to give my best to her brother. A small smile emerged from her lips.
I still think about her from time to time. The strength she carried for all these years and continues to do so. How selfless you must be to give your life to a stranger when you didn't even want to be alive yourself. She burned for so long, so quietly, wondering when the flame would fade and the match would wither away, leaving the silhouette of demons never conquered. I hope she knows the day hasn't come and it will not come. Her flame still burns strong.