November 2010
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“Of course I’m holding back. I’m insane, you idiot. Remember the other day when you told me I had pit stains? Well, I have cried every fifteen minutes on the half hour since you told me that. I am racked with self doubt, I have panic attacks, I’m claustrophobic, germaphobic, phobiaphobic, I talk to myself, I talk to my cats, I talk to three separate shrinks about the fact that often my cats respond to me in my mother’s voice. And, yesterday, when that stupid, pretty surgical nurse handed you a pair of latex gloves, I almost killed the guy whose leg I was stitching up because I couldn’t stop thinking about the two of you having sex on a box of steaks. Why a box of steaks? Because my dad had an affair with a female butcher and, as I mentioned before, I am insane. There, I opened up. Are you happy?”
—scrubs
“Every pressurised system needs a relief valve. There has to be a way to reduce the stress, the tension, before it becomes too much to bare. There has to be a way to find relief because if the pressure doesn’t find a way out, it will make one. It will explode. It’s the pressure we put on ourselves that’s the hardest to bare. The pressure to be better then we already are. The pressure to be better than we think we can be. It never ever lets up. It just builds and builds and builds.”
—Grey’s Anatomy
