He Who Listen

Karvin

Waking up to screaming is something knew to me. I can hear my neighbor's yelling out to someone else inside their apartment.  The walls are so thin it's ridiculous although for the moment this place was the only thing I can afford.  I'm sure their calling 911 because the girl starts explaining that her mother has overdosed on her depression pills again.  It brought me back to faint memories as a child being in foster care there were many teens trying to kill their self do to depression.  I was always one of them quiet shy kids who never spoke just stayed silent. It helped me not get beat on sometimes and other times it was the reason why I did get beat on.  I never knew my mother or my father the only thing I had that was given to me by them was my name "Karvin" it's unique and sounds a little more like a girl name than a guy's name but I grew to like it.  Now that I'm 24 with a PHD in depression counseling. Werid huh - I guess I just have an obsession of understanding the brain and the reason behind depression and how to help others get over it. Although there's just one thing about my job that might surprise people. I don't actually have converstaions and counseling sessions with the broken hearted I stay behind the scenes and doctors come to me for suggestions on how to treat their patient's.  I don't speak much and to sit in listen to someone issues with having to throw out feedback right in front of them is something I can't handle. Realizing that I'm in my own little world I hear the ambulance coming up the street towards my building. Instead of being nosy like other neighbor's I go back to sleep knowing I have a longer day ahead of me tomorrow.