I was in bed but wide awake the other night, thinking about all the stories I could tell about working with adults with serious mental illnesses. They were kind of like my children in many ways. They needed support and guidance, and I was paid to help them in small but often memorable ways. Sometimes I felt like a glorified taxi driver, but sometimes I was able to see them accomplish something big or help them get through a tough time, and that job was very rewarding for me.
I started thinking about that job when I was comparing it to my current job. Yes, I still work to help people improve their lives. But a big difference is that I don't get to see the results of my individual work the way I did in that and some other positions I've held. Seeing results is important to me. Too important for my soul to go without. That's why this job I have right now is becoming so difficult for me.
Anyway, I thought that maybe I could write a novel (changing personal information for privacy and protection sake) about some of my experiences with adults with mental illnesses. I think it would help people get a little insight as to what it can look like for someone to have schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, major depressive disorder, and other serious mental illnesses. I know having that job and experiencing the things I did opened my eyes up in ways I never could have imagined.
Sometimes I can be overly critical of myself and others. But I do know that I am here on this earth with talents and abilities given to me to help bless me and others. I'm grateful for the things, material and intangible, that I have been given and the compassion I gain with understanding. I think a lot of the judgment we place on each other comes from a lack of understanding, and so that job was a great blessing in my life.
If I wrote a book like that, would the subject interest you enough to read it? You can be honest.