What I do is looked down on, though I am trying to help.

Two weeks ago, Friday, I got a call at one a.m. A sixteen year old girl had been raped and needed an advocate at the hospital. In the six hours I was there, I listened to her, comforted her parents, explained her rights int he face of a hostile police officer, walked her through the exam, held her hand and wiped her tears. An hour later I met with a grandma who has custody of her grandkids, all molested by dad, and wants to know how to talk about it. On Monday I spent three hours on the phone with three school officials, finding out why they wouldn't get a kid help with test anxiety. That afternoon I counseled a seven year old who fought off her attacker and now is scred to leave the house. Tuesday I had a boy whose father doesn't want him to go to counseling- because if he doesn't just forget about the abuse, he might turn gay. Wednesday I had the victim from friday night and her parents- counseling, legal advocacy for a civil no contact order, referral to get dad sleeping pills, safety planning for her return to school. Thursday I found three kids who had been displaced by Katrina bikes and a contribution to get them summer clothes. All our funds at work are used up, so I used my own money to get helmets and tassels. Friday I let mom cry and told her it was okay to both love and hate her husband. I listened to a teenager who is hoping to be pregnant, because then he'll marry her. I listened to an eight year old who wanted to talk about Spongebob, because feelings are yucky. I listened to my husband complain that we're overdrawn again, because I keep supplimenting with my own money and giving to causes, but I get paid very little and no overtime. We don't make a profit, where I work. We run on hope and contributions, housing five battered women and their families in space meant for two. We charge not one dime for any of the counseling we do. I am broke and tired and so in love with the work that I am doing that I won't stop. And yesterday I got called a pimp- benefitting for the misery of others, getting rich as long as the poor stay poor. I don't want anyone to stay poor! We get apartments and jobs, provide babysitting and help with SSI and WIC and child support disputes and work, work, work to help people triumph over abuse and loss and fear. And yesterday I got called a pimp.
Sometimes I just get so tired. How do I keep my head up?