I will survive

The purpose of human life is to serve, and to show compassion and the will to help others. 

Albert Schweitzer

Or at least I keep telling myself that. Sometimes I'm not sure whether or not I can make it through the next few weeks here in good old Hellbuquerque. The area around the track feels like one giant death trap between the way people drive and all of the druggies about. Not to mention, there's enough less than intelligent people around to give a girl a nervous breakdown (seriously, my left eye has been going into twitching fits since I've been here, which is just disturbing). I was done with this place before I got here and I'm now so far beyond that point, I don't even think there are words to describe how I feel. 

It's possible that the area of Albuquerque that I spend most of my time in (there really are good parts of this city) is just so different from home that it's a culture shock. I'm not the type to get homesick, but this place is enough to make me miss that clean and safe feeling that Idaho gives people (for the most part). I think I can recall a total of about three times that a stranger came up and asked me for money in Idaho and they usually needed it for gas which was what they were really using it for. Here, it happens almost daily, sometimes two or three times. Usually some tweaker comes up saying they need money for the bus and you still see them at the same bus stop four hours later. The only thing that has changed is that they aren't shaking as much. Don't get me wrong, I'm a softie and it's very hard for me to say no to people. If it's someone that seems at least remotely sober and I don't feel like I'm getting fed a complete line of bullshit, I will give them some money. I'll put gas in someone's car if they ask or buy them something to eat and drink. However, I have a very difficult time contributing to someone so I can support a drug habit that will kill them and there aren't many people around here that are down and out just because of bad luck alone. My favorite part is when they get all pissed off at me for not giving them a hand out. Or when I'm sitting in my vehicle and they come up and knock on my window, insisting that I roll it down and won't go away. Or when I don't even want to walk into a business because I can see them just waiting for me to get out of my truck. Yep, I miss Idaho or pretty much any place I've ever been other than here.

The absolute worst part, is that I pretty much hate them. That's not me, I don't just hate people that I don't even know. Helping people makes me happy, I usually want to do what I can for them. When did I become so judgemental and lose my compassion? I've had people help me so much throughout my life, I should want to give back. These people have been written off as lost causes, which most probably are, and I despise them for it. They're beyond help, so now they're  just an inconvenience? That's just so wrong and yet I can't help but feel the way I do.

So maybe I'm proving myself to be quite the whining bitch as I sit here well fed, with a safe and warm place to sleep, typing this on my iPad while there are people that not only have nothing, but no one in their life. Maybe I'm insane for even letting the situation in this city bother me. One way or another, it does bother me though. I'm just not sure whether it's on a personal level or a moral one.