"I will not stand for this horrendous treatment!" shrieks disheveled middle-aged woman in her as she gathers her children and flees the scene of unimaginable indignities as fast as her legs will carry her, her breath heaving and body shaking in the aftermath of her traumatic experience. Curious onlookers gape in disbelief at the scene unfolding in front of them. An attempted assault? Confrontation of a husband and mistress caught red-handed? Discrimination? With no apparent cause, the onlookers eventually return to business as usual. I too watched expressionlessly alone in the knowledge that I had been the inflicter of this woman's pain.
The scene of a person attempting to cope with crisis unfolding before me is surprising in its familiarity, similar to many interactions observed during my time as a mental health worker. However, due to the recent economic climate, I have returned back to the profession which helped finance my graduate degree that is now somewhere in a pile of papers and books stacked in the corner of my bedroom, waiting tables. At first upset that I was not having much luck finding new employment in my field, I decided to use the next several months re-evaluating options and working a 'stress free' job to pay the bills while I de-stressed. I thought the menial task of serving in a moderately priced yet popular chain restaurant would be easy and an escape from the constant pressures of helping others cope with their mental health concerns.
However, on this dreary Sunday afternoon, I had apparently come full circle from helping people transition through periods of crisis to being the cause of said crises. The act which caused all this? Not knowing The Restaurant had run out of Corona the previous night. I began walking toward the kitchen and saw a long-time employee of the restaurant mouth "new girl" to her sister, another senior staff member, and they simultaneously looked at me with an expression of condescension. In that moment, I came to the realization despite the change in industries, job titles and pay, dealing dysfunctional interpersonal relationships, difficult people and people in crisis was still a large part of my job description.
So This Is Christmas
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My daughter plays the flute in her fifth grade band and, this morning, they
put on a holiday concert. Arriving early, I snagged a couple of seats near
th...
5 weeks ago
Ummm...the shit talking bitches need to be taken down a notch huh? Want me to come out there and make their life hell????? :-)
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