Sometimes I want to scream and cry and shout at humanity. They’re just a crap lot a lot of the time. Let me back track. I don’t often talk about Real Work here because, well, I just don’t. My Real Work is fascinating, excrutiating, depressing, ecstatic at varying times. I work in HIV, and that’s all I really need to say to quantify my previous statement.
I try very hard to separate work and the rest of my life. I try to leave the stories I hear while I'm at Real Work there. I have to, otherwise I’d throw myself from a bridge. Some/many of the stories are just tragic. Don’t get me wrong, there are some incredible, inspiring, wonderfully happy stories too, I just don’t get to hear those very often, due to the line I’m in. I do get to help, though, which I like.
So back to trying to leave the stories behind. I’m not very good at it, because they’re unfortunately, not just stories. There are people behind them. Often people who are trying really hard to survive in a world that just keeps on kicking them – on the shins, in the back, on their faces.
Mostly, I manage, but then I hear something that makes me want to scream, and cry, and shout, and hit out. Like this morning. A 6-year old girl, who had been raped. There are no words. My faith in humanity shatters a bit more every time I hear of these things. Hers, I’m pretty sure, is broken terminally. How could it not be? She’s 6-years old. Six. If I knew the fucker responsible I could not be held responsible for what I’d do. Instead, I do what I can, and do my tiny bit to help mop up the mess that he’s left, as my heart breaks for her.