This is part 2 of 3 in my series on burning out from humanitarian work. Read Part 1 here: When I Finally Got Overwhelmed By My Humanitarian Job
A week or so after I got back to Amman, when I felt I could no longer ignore him, I gritted my teeth and called Alaa. I dreaded talking to him but, as usual, it wasn’t as bad once we started talking as the dread itself had been. (Isn’t that always the way?)
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