I didn't join medicine to see little kids get hit by buses and die. Or to see old men come in with broken ribs after being kicked by their sons. Or to see people take advantage of those who already have so little.
Dear God, why?
I get that I'm being selfish. These are exactly the kinds of people who deserve a little more kindness, more sympathy, more help. I should be staunch and helpful, not sad and useless. (Is sad and helpful a good middle ground?) And what did I think? That the world was kind, was beautiful, and that horrible things didn't happen?
Alright, the world is kind and beautiful, but as it turns out, shit happens too. I honestly don't know why it's breaking my heart. What did I expect? Haven't I read this in newspapers and in books? Haven't I heard people talking about these things? Why am I acting all upset and surprised and devastated? What is there to be sad about? 'Such is life', isn't that so?
But really, what's wrong with being upset at the shitty things that happen in life? What's wrong with that? Shouldn't everyone be crying? Or is it that there are even shittier things that happen, and that's why everyone is so passé? I don't get it. Perhaps not everyone is passé, anyway.
"Does being an adult mean having to do things that we don't want to do?" I don't want to have to face the end products of the world's evils day in day out with a professional smile. I don't want to learn of another bit of atrocity that a fellow human being has seen fit to dish out. I don't want to lose my faith that every person has some good in them.
But we're here to help. These people need someone to help them. And I figure, you can't help someone without realizing that you've entered their lives, become a corner in their multifaceted environment; that you live in the same world as all of this—cruelty, and even if it's ten miles away, you're still only ten miles away from something disgusting.