Holy toledo bejeezus.

First, I was offered a position as a Severely Cognitively Impaired special education teacher in Ft. Buchanan Puerto Rico. I turned it down for several reasons. The main one is I don't want to. It would have been a great experience and I applied just to see what would happen. But I was given another choice and I chose to do that instead. Here things are going well and I'm excited to ramble around in my camper and do some hiking and adventure here. It was a great opportunity and it did indeed shake up my world a little which is what I was looking for. But I like my current options. I want to keep Puerto Rico special. Enough said about that.

My life has taken another twist. My thoughts really. An old school friend of mine that I have reconnected with through the beauty of Facebook has rekindled something in me that I pushed away. She reminded me of something I have been passionate about for a long time

Another good friend of mine, even though it has been almost 11 years since I have spoken to her by my choice, is a or was a recovering alcoholic, drug abuser, self mutilator and attempted suicide victim. I don't know if she is recovering or still using. I simply adore her. But because she was harming herself and essentially dragging me down with her I had to stop being her friend. That killed me. That killed a little part of my compassion for people and also killed a little part of me that wants to rescue everyone. But it was actually one of the best things that could have happened for me. Selfishly this sounds, but had it not of been for her I would not have learned what alcoholism, drug abuse, self mutilation, and suicide means or how if affects everyone around that person. I was ignorant of what all of it was and such a disease it is. But fortunately, my experiences with her has prepared me for what was happening concurrently in my life at the same time.

My mother. I love her to pieces. I take care of her. Help pay her bills. Give her support. Really in many ways she is my friend more than a mother and a mother more than a friend. If that makes any sense. I rescued her more times than I can count. I rescued her from an alcoholic boyfriend who put a gun to her head. I rescued her from a stalker boyfriend high on drugs. I rescued her from an abusive boyfriend who literally threw her out of his house.

I don't tell this for the sake of recognition or good for you or poor you. I made the choices. But had I not had the friend I talked about above to teach me what addictions are I would not have understood what mom was going through and why. I would have fallen possibly into the same traps. I finished college so I could be completely independent and be self reliant. Survival skill really.

Anyways, it leads to what I have tossed around for years. To become some sort of grief counselor or become involved with the suicide hotline, or YWCA for battered women and children, or a counselor for abused children or to save someone from the things that are hurting them. To save them from the bad thoughts and help them through the tough times. But honestly, the thought of doing that scares the hell out of me. The thought of the turmoil people go through feels so emotionally draining. The thought of the tears that I would shed because people have gone through horrible, unimaginable things that no child, man, or woman should ever have to go through haunts me. I tear up hearing these stories. I cry when I see the pain. I don't know what I will do or if I will do anything. It is something to think about for sure.

I know writing this is incredibly personal, but part of this blog is to purely write down my thoughts and then to share them with people I think are my friends.

If you are my friend then you should know what makes me simply me. In the meantime, say a kind word. You might just save someone.