In my rhetoric and composition class this semester, we're reading a book about mental illness and how it affects people within the prison system.  We watched part of a movie called the Soloist today.  Its really hard for me to watch things like that, because I know many kids who will probably end up in similar situations.  On the street, raving, unable to get treatment because they're unaware that they need treatment.  Homeless.  In fact, I know of at least one kid who is homeless.  I remember, one Easter, sitting next to him and listening to him tell me all about how his girlfriend was an armadillo.  After he was discharged, the next anyone heard of him was that he was living under the Bijou bridge.  I know many kids who had early signs of schizophrenia.  Who were already medicated for bipolar disorder.  What will happen to them when they become adults and are no longer covered under Medicaid and are no longer wards of the state?  I imagine that a good majority of them will become homeless or end up committing some crime and wind up back in the prison system, where they will languish.  Or they will get caught in the revolving door of prison, committing crimes, being jailed for a while, until they are released and they commit more crimes.  It breaks my heart to know that that's the future of these kids that I loved and sacrificed for.  Some of them not, but many of them so.  Especially the young ones.  Like the boy who stabbed me.  I really did love him.  He was on his way to getting into a foster home when it happened.  And then, instead, he was committed for two years, where I imagine he got minimal treatment for his many issues.  So, he would have gotten out....last year, or maybe this year.  And he'll be 14 or 15. Bigger.  Still volatile.  Untreated.  And he'll most likely reoffend.  Because of one incident.  One day.  Because of my stupid decision.