Kitchen Sink

Words versus reality

I work with words. When I was in school I thought it would be cool to be able to help people with words. I even got a degree towards that end. A few stints volunteering ended badly, and what was to be the first degree became the only degree.

But then I ended up working as a counselor for a non-profit, job training program. I worked with kids trying to get their G.E.D., and adults trying to retrain themselves after disability took a previous occupation. I was fresh out of school, I didn’t know what I was doing, and somehow I helped anyway. With just words.

I do something different for the government, but kind of the same too… sometimes. Only, these days words don’t seem to help much. More and more, people see me because they have urgent problems… and ALL I have is words.

It’s not depression, stress, or my private life. All of those things have been around before, but I’ve been able to set them aside for the sake of the person in front of me. Sometimes it’s been the only reason my depression allows itself to be set aside.

God, I hope I can do someone some good tomorrow.

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I'm sorry but I can't sum me up in this limited amount of space. No, I take that back. I'm not sorry.

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Give the gift of words.