I must be nuts...

Everytime I open my eyes in the morning (usually between 7:00 and 7:15am...it should be 6:45, but screw it, I'd rather sleep in and be late) I ask myself if I am nuts. Really. When I started off, I decided that I wanted to work with criminals, and work with them to get the behavioral and psychological help they needed to make their lives work. Somewhere along the line I made the decision to work with kids. Right. Okay. If we help them as kids, they won't have as many issues when they are adults, right? right. Only what I am discovering is that the blasted kids have problems too, big problems: psychosis, bipolar disorder, depression with psychotic tendencies----damn if these kids don't see stuff the same way the adults I used to work with do. I mean really, have we really gone so far as a society that our children have no choice but to sink deep into the depths of severe psychiatic disability to cope? So I thought about it, and I said, "Forget it. I'll go back to working with adults. Adults are easier, they make their own decisions, no need to go through case workers and get forms signed by 80 million other people to get them help...they can CONSENT." But when I finally get into my car, at around 8:00 am (should be 7:45 am, but who can get ready that fast) and drive to see my clients, and walk into a classroom and see their eyes light up as they run to knock me over with a hug, or watch with a smile as I park my car and they are jumping up and down on the sidewalk in front of their house with excitement, or see them use their words for the first time instead of their fists to get their point across, I think, "Maybe I am where I'm supposed to be." And as I am looking down at my dirt-smeared jeans, and the fingerpaint that decorates my sleeves and hands, I know I am.