Weemie
Diamond Member
Anthony's "Stress Cup" explanation is spot on for what occurs with me on a daily basis. I go to school full time, and I work full time. I have my own place. It takes nothing for me to go from 0 to 200. In my head we replace the cup with a speedometer. Everyone else's speedometer starts at zero. Mine starts at 100 automatically.
I ended up pulling a Costanza (thanks, @Sasha848484 ) on Wednesday but sucked it up and went back yesterday. So now I have another run, another day. Today, tomorrow, the next day, the next. Managed to get my bosses to give me Fridays off starting in 2 wks.
I take upwards of 100 calls a day, buffered only by my apt misuse of idle codes and call avoidance. 1 half hour lunch, 1 fifteen min break unless I work a full 8.5 (I work 6.5). Otherwise you are tethered to your desk, and people question where you are going if you even get up to go pee. I've worked here almost a year and a half, I know how it goes, I know the game.
But even my co-workers are starting to make me blow up, it's not just the customers. I will give you an example: yesterday I took a second break because I was there for 8.5 and I was sitting at my desk, and a co-worker was like, you're taking an awful long break aren't you? We're swamped over here. And I was like, I'm taking my f*cking scheduled break, I've been here since 2:30. (This was my response, right off the bat. You see?) She's like, oh well so have we all! And I'm like, that's f*cking fantastic, bitch! And you'll take your scheduled break, too!
God. It's so, so, so petty. So petty. How did I get here? How did I crawl out of anguish and suffering and tortures to end up sitting at a desk, loathing my co-workers and customers alike? I don't really loathe anybody. Every time the phone dings in my ear my speedometer goes to 200. I'm snappy, irritable, and mean. My attendance is suffering, my performance is f*cking abysmal. The only reason they can't fire me is because they need bodies.
What is it about me, why can't I deal with call volume while my co-workers are fine? Everyone notices, I get flippy and I have to leave. People even say, oh, what if she has a fit and leaves and it's just us? Well, I'm not a f*cking lifer, and I don't care if I have to be here 2 seconds longer than necessary for my sanity!
My co-workers don't have PTSD. I do. That's the difference. Every little thing sets me off. I'm not on meds (not an option, former addict), I don't have access to therapy (remote-ish location). Online therapy is a bust, I simply don't make enough money.
Trying to teach my brain to do something different, but it's like my emotions respond without my permission. My ears get hot, start ringing. I can't see or process information in front of me. I start crying uncontrollably. I don't wanna react like that. I don't want my co-workers to think I am weak or pathetic or crazy. If I had my choice I would be a stone, a silent wall. I once was. Since 2008 starting to wrestle these things down in the dark, everything is loud painful screams. You're here. You're here. No exit. No. exit. no. exit.
How is this professional? How can I expect to be a professional like this?
I ended up pulling a Costanza (thanks, @Sasha848484 ) on Wednesday but sucked it up and went back yesterday. So now I have another run, another day. Today, tomorrow, the next day, the next. Managed to get my bosses to give me Fridays off starting in 2 wks.
I take upwards of 100 calls a day, buffered only by my apt misuse of idle codes and call avoidance. 1 half hour lunch, 1 fifteen min break unless I work a full 8.5 (I work 6.5). Otherwise you are tethered to your desk, and people question where you are going if you even get up to go pee. I've worked here almost a year and a half, I know how it goes, I know the game.
But even my co-workers are starting to make me blow up, it's not just the customers. I will give you an example: yesterday I took a second break because I was there for 8.5 and I was sitting at my desk, and a co-worker was like, you're taking an awful long break aren't you? We're swamped over here. And I was like, I'm taking my f*cking scheduled break, I've been here since 2:30. (This was my response, right off the bat. You see?) She's like, oh well so have we all! And I'm like, that's f*cking fantastic, bitch! And you'll take your scheduled break, too!
God. It's so, so, so petty. So petty. How did I get here? How did I crawl out of anguish and suffering and tortures to end up sitting at a desk, loathing my co-workers and customers alike? I don't really loathe anybody. Every time the phone dings in my ear my speedometer goes to 200. I'm snappy, irritable, and mean. My attendance is suffering, my performance is f*cking abysmal. The only reason they can't fire me is because they need bodies.
What is it about me, why can't I deal with call volume while my co-workers are fine? Everyone notices, I get flippy and I have to leave. People even say, oh, what if she has a fit and leaves and it's just us? Well, I'm not a f*cking lifer, and I don't care if I have to be here 2 seconds longer than necessary for my sanity!
My co-workers don't have PTSD. I do. That's the difference. Every little thing sets me off. I'm not on meds (not an option, former addict), I don't have access to therapy (remote-ish location). Online therapy is a bust, I simply don't make enough money.
Trying to teach my brain to do something different, but it's like my emotions respond without my permission. My ears get hot, start ringing. I can't see or process information in front of me. I start crying uncontrollably. I don't wanna react like that. I don't want my co-workers to think I am weak or pathetic or crazy. If I had my choice I would be a stone, a silent wall. I once was. Since 2008 starting to wrestle these things down in the dark, everything is loud painful screams. You're here. You're here. No exit. No. exit. no. exit.
How is this professional? How can I expect to be a professional like this?
