I just don't understand why a lot of people take life for granted or do not appreciate life as much as they should. People don't understand that to wake up in the morning and have air in our lungs, is such a great thing, and it is to be appreciated. I wake up in the morning and I am happy to be alive and well, and that is exactly what I tell people who ask me how I am doing. The hard part of life can also be for having a heart and caring for people. I use to be so self centered, and thought of myself first above anyone. I have learned over the years, after walking with God more, and having a child, that there is more to life than yourself. I have learned that its always best to give than to receive. My heart is big and there is room for anyone who needs a piece of it. I care about people. I started working with psychotic and mentally ill people, about four years ago. I enjoyed the thrill of helping people and making a difference in their lives. Nothing else mattered to me. Well when I changed jobs, because I was getting too burnt out, working the 80 hour weeks, I changed to something totally different. I now do technical support at an inbound call center and it is something totally different. Well over eight months ago, one of my old clients, who then lived alone, and was his own guardian, called me and needed help. He has a.d.h.d., bipolar, mild mental retardation, anxiety and major depression. He is not meant to live alone. My old company, that I worked for, and which this guy (Nick) who was his provider, let him sign himself out of the program, and live by himself, knowing he cannot do it by himself. They practically did not want to care for him any longer. He falls into major depression, if he is alone and no one to talk to. Well he called me up and needed some help. He told me that someone he had made friends with, took all of his money, stole a bunch of his narcotic medicines, and used him in every way he could. He also told me that he was getting kicked out of his apartment and he has no one that will help him. His own family have turned their backs on him too. He told me he was getting depressed and did not know what to do. I think God, sent him to me to, to help him. I don't know for sure, but it feels that way. I think he wanted me to help him. I am separated with my ex, and my son lives with her, so at the time, I lived alone. I decided to help him. I remembered his past and it was very bad. His Mother sexually/mentally abused him from the ages of 8-12. His Dad taught him that the right thing to do was to overdose or end your life, to end any pain that he has. He had even attempted many times in front of this child, to end his own life, while he watched. They have damaged this child's head, and then sent him to an institution at 12. They are masters at head games. This is all stuff I read in his background, when I worked with him. Well anyway, I decided to help him because I thought I could make a difference in his life, and maybe have a decent life from this point on. Nick had always trusted me, and liked me because I was not just another "jerk" who used him. I have never used him for a dime. Nick always called me his "best friend" to everyone else. I never looked at Nick for his mental illness, I seen the real "Nick" inside. Well a month after letting him move in my house, I came home and Nick had overdosed on a very lot of medicines. I rushed him to the hospital in a blizzard. He almost did not make it. If it was not for me, he would have passed away. I talked with Nick, and realized, while I was at work and he was alone at home, his mom called and began playing head games with him, calling him a sick freak and said she wished he was not her son. Nick told me that was what pushed him over the edge. He then proceeded to do what his Dad taught him to do when he falls in a deep depression. Well after all of that, I kept putting it in his head, that he was a great person, and it does not matter what anyone thinks of him. I taught him how to appreciate life more. I explained to him how important life really is and how wrong suicide and overdosing really is. Nick did great for over 8 months. We became good friends, and I continued to help him fight his depression, and brought him to his therapy and also made sure he had all of his medicines all the time. I even tried helping the relationship between his parents and him. He has always loved them even through the bad stuff. He is loyal to them. Well anyway, I came home the other night from work, and once again, Nick had done it again. He overdosed on over one hundred pills and this time, he really was just about dead on my couch. I rushed him to the hospital once again and all the while, was confused. I thought Nick made so much progress. I thought we got past that stage. I had been able to leave him alone at home, and leave medicine around him because he had no interest at all, to take anything that he was not suppose to. He had to be put on life support for over 48 hours because he was not able to breathe on his own. Today he was taken off of life support and was able to breathe and everything by himself, and he is recovering fine, except he has pneumonia. I have talked with him about this all, and once again, he expressed the pain from his parents is what drove him to this. I also had a feeling that he might have had a drug interaction with his medicines because when he overdosed in February, he was on a medicine called Xanax and after he overdosed, the doctor took him off of it, and he stayed off of that drug for the eight months. Well last week, his doctor put him back on it. I just think it is a med issue, or maybe just a coincidence. This time Nick has told me that he is really paying for it, and he realizes that he is in alot more pain than before. I think he is realizing and appreciating life alot more because he feels very sorry for what he did and he says he just don't want this pain anymore and to go through this. I explained to him that God is keeping him alive for a reason. I told him the amount of medicine he has overdosed, should have killed him. The doctors have told him this also. He tells me he is thankful to be alive, and tells me he wants the help and wants to get through all of this. I told him I was here for him and I wont give up. Something inside me tells me to keep helping this guy. I think he wants to succeed and I know he is progressing. This stuff takes time. I have seen a giant improvement in him and I know it is possible. I feel God has sent Nick to me, to help. Nick has pulled a side of me, I did not know was in me. I spoke with a pastor, who came to Nick's room and asked him if he wanted to pray with him and Nick agreed. We all had a prayer and Nick seemed to feel so much better after. We also talked about attending Church more, after he gets out. I just hope that I am doing the right thing by continuing to help him. Everyone who knows what I am doing, says I am doing a great job and supports what I am doing for him. Someone even made the comment "There is Jason, saving the World, one person at a time!" and it makes me feel good to know that people feel that way about me. Either way, I have realized that the saying "Appreciate Life" really does mean a whole lot, and people need to appreciate it more and not take life for granted. It can end in a second, and we can't choose when we pass away, and Nick is proof of that. Also I feel that more people need to help each other out more. There is always someone in need of help, and we need to help each other out, especially if we have it better than others do. There needs to be less greed. There should be more giving.. I know that it is easier to hope for all of this, but it would make the quality of life, better for everyone. Thank God every morning we wake up for giving us another day to enjoy life, and make the most of it each and every day.