three (
threeplusfire) wrote2006-01-19 05:41 pm
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let's just say
I don't get people. I don't get them at all. They interest me, constantly and often despite my better judgement. I expect so much, and it's a surprise that I'm not more bitter than I am.
Today's calls have been cracked out in all ways possible. I had a social worker who dumped four reports on me inside of thirty minutes. I had a teacher making her first report ever who had to take some deep breaths and obviously cares so much about her students. I had a caller make the comment that a woman was disabled "with that black people disease." I had a call about a suicidal six year old boy. I had a sex abuse call that involved something so painful and grotesque that even thinking about it gives me phantom pain and a shudder of revulsion. I dig into people all day on the phone and wonder what they are thinking when they are going through all this. I want to know, and I can't even give you a good reason why. I just want to know what they are thinking.
Part of me imagines that if I understand what they're thinking, things will make sense. That I'll gain some understanding of how they work and how I relate to them and suddenly things will just make so much more sense. I have that driving need to know, to just know everything.
Today's calls have been cracked out in all ways possible. I had a social worker who dumped four reports on me inside of thirty minutes. I had a teacher making her first report ever who had to take some deep breaths and obviously cares so much about her students. I had a caller make the comment that a woman was disabled "with that black people disease." I had a call about a suicidal six year old boy. I had a sex abuse call that involved something so painful and grotesque that even thinking about it gives me phantom pain and a shudder of revulsion. I dig into people all day on the phone and wonder what they are thinking when they are going through all this. I want to know, and I can't even give you a good reason why. I just want to know what they are thinking.
Part of me imagines that if I understand what they're thinking, things will make sense. That I'll gain some understanding of how they work and how I relate to them and suddenly things will just make so much more sense. I have that driving need to know, to just know everything.
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Also, "that black people disease?" What the fuck?? What disease did he mean?
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I still have no idea about that one. I asked the caller if she meant sickle cell but she said no. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?
I don't know how you cope...
You hear the worst humanity has to offer, and still manage to keep going. I'd go ballistic and probably end up as a vigilante.
Re: I don't know how you cope...
I couldn't work in the field. If I came face to face with these people, I might lose it on someone.