The Why

So, how does a social work wind up out of work, especially a social worker who up until March had three jobs? Simple, government.

Without going into too much detail, just because the internet isn’t exactly the world’s most secure forum, I was working for government, government cut backs, term not renewed. The end. I quit my other two jobs before my trip to Malawi in April deciding to focus on church and my full time job with the government. Working 56 hours a week just wasn’t doing it for me….

I think the hardest part of all of this, is that I really, really, liked my old job. I liked my caseload (all 180 of them), I liked my coworkers, I liked what I did, and I even liked my supervisor. I won’t lie to you either, it was the highest paying job I’d ever had, good for the mortgage and all sorts of house disasters (of which there were many). I’m finding it very hard to apply for new jobs, because I’m still stalled at the old job. Not quite sure how to move past that, I’m guessing though, that, like most things, it will take time.

While I wait for the time to pass, I've got some stories to tell, some social issues to discuss, and some ranting to do. Stay tuned!  

angry

Do you ever feel trapped? Like everything you do is just the WRONG thing to do. Feel like you can't win, no matter what? That the harder you try, the worse things get? That's how I feel today, and I've been busy trying to talk myself out of it. I wish I could elaborate, because it's a complex story and kind of mind boggling really, but it's the kind of thing I really can't put on the internet without risking serious repercussions. Perhaps it is sufficient to say that I'm spending my 25th birthday (tomorrow) away from the office through no choice of my own and I'm rather displeased about it. It was initially a punishment of sorts, disguised as an offer of good will, then became a true offer of good will, however, it's an unnecessary offer, which places me behind on some work that I need to get done. I will say that at NO point was my work with clients affected, and the last time I checked, being stressed about one's upcoming house purchase on one's lunch break wasn't a crime. But, it is what it is. And I can't even sleep in :( have to meet the lawyer at 9 anyway.

I wish I still had bad coping skills?

So here's the thing. I'm house hunting, and the market where I live is completely a sellers market. I was out bid on a house 2 weeks ago, that went for 20000 over the asking price, and then yesterday I lost a house I REALLY wanted because it went for 30000 over the asking price.

To say I was upset, would be an understatement. I don't know if it was the new homeopathy, the massage I got that day, being depressed, or something, but man I lost it. I cried for like 2 hours straight, just couldn't stop. I sat on the floor of my shower with hot, hot water pounding down on me and just sobbed. This was arguably a good experience for me, as it helped me release some of the pent up emotion inside me, that was sort of the goal of this whole journaling and opening up thing after all!

The amusing (now) part of this all was the conversation I was having with myself while sitting on the floor of the shower. Basically, one part of my mind was thinking of every unhealthy coping skill it could and the other half of my brain was shooting it down. One part of my brain was being incredibly black and white, and the other half was adding shades of grey. And let me tell you, I feel like in the moment it would have been SO much easier to be in the black and white negative side. Why? Perhaps a few examples.

1. A: You should cut yourself, cutting yourself would help you feel better. B: Yeah, but then I'd have scars and I'd be mad at myself, and even though it would feel good in the moment, it would hurt later. A: Well, you need to shave your legs anyway, and if the razor just, slipped... B: So, not shaving my legs tonight then, razor gets nowhere near me. A: then how are we going to make the feelings stop? B: I don't know...

2. A: Well, why don't we have a drink. I know you have some Kahlua kicking around. B: Yeah, that sounds good, wait, no, not only do I not want to do something stupid while intoxicated, knowing my luck, I'll find up sick and/or hungover.

3. A: Well, you're never going to get a house at this rate. You can't afford one, you might as well give up, it's impossible. B: I've only seen SIX houses and offered on two. I know the market sucks, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. A: Yeah, but you're never going to find another house that's just right for you. B: That's what I thought after the first house two, and then I saw the second house...

And so things went on from there, and the font on this blog entry decided it didn't want to be straight forward either. In anycase, I just so badly wanted to be able to yell and scream and do something destructive or give up, or quite, or something, anything, to make it all go away. But, the rational, self aware part of my brain that teaches CBT skills just wouldn't let me. Which is good to know, but is SO FRUSTRATING in the moment.

I don't know if this entry makes any sense. I'm getting sleepy, but I really wanted to try and get some of this out there.

To sum up, although my life is SO much better with all the coping skills I've learned, it also makes things more complicated, and at times I really do miss some of those negative options.

Actions and Consequences

When I was a child, my parents taught me that there was a consequence to each of my actions, good or bad, and often, if I did the wrong thing, they were the ones to enforce the consequence.  For example, leaving my room in a mess despite repeated warnings to clean it up might result in not being allowed to watch TV until it was clean.  And more serious for me, my mom almost took my entire collection of books away because she caught me reading after lights out one too many times.  As adults, there’s no parent standing over us handing down consequences, but that doesn’t mean they are no longer there.  Bestest bud, for example, expected the house to be clean when she house sat this week and so because I hadn’t cleaned in ages I had to spend the two days leading up to my vacation cleaning like mad trying to make a dent in months of clutter. 

 

Many people believe that the homeless are simply living out the consequences of their actions and because of that they do not need our help.  Rather, they simply need to take new actions which will have more positive consequences.  If unemployment led to loss of housing, finding yourself employment will then lead to housing.  This way of looking at things looks at things on a more macro level and is easily generalized to many different situations. 

On a micro level however we look at individuals, their situations, their actions and what the consequences of those actions are.  It can become easy for my coworkers and I to take on a parental role (often quite unintentionally) and become the one who hands out consequences.  A client does something wrong, we punish them.  Sniff in the shelter, kicked out for 24 hours for example.  One would expect this to be a deterrent, but if losing housing wasn’t enough to force someone to find employment will 24 hours outside force someone to stop sniffing?  I think that’s what gets to a lot of us.  We kick people out over and over and over and over again, and they’re mad, really mad, and yet month, or a week or even the next day, they’re doing it again. 

 

One reason for this is addiction.  Addiction is very powerful.  I didn’t really just how powerful until I started working in detox.  I hear people whose hearts are just breaking because of the horrible consequences of their addictions, who want more than anything to stop, and yet are somehow still held captive by their substance of choice.  Further, after you use drugs/alcohol for a while your brain starts to go.  You actually kill brain cells and damage parts of your brain, including your memory.  Further you may not remember what happened as you “blacked out” from drinking. 

 

Another reason is FASD and/or other brain damage.  One of the frustrating things about working with children with FASD is their inability to understand the consequences of their actions.  This is true for adults with FASD as well, only we expect adults to have mastered this concept.  No matter how many times we tell someone, they may simply not get it (one of the reasons we tend not to use sliding punishment scales in which the punishment increases each time the action occurs).

A third reason people do not seem to learn from their consequences as we expect them to is mental illness, bet that depression, anxiety, schizophrenia or anything else along the spectrum.  It’s hard to care about the consequences when you don’t exist in the same reality as the one who makes the rules.  Sometimes a person can be so depressed they just don’t care, don’t care at all.  Watching that can be scary, people with zero regard for their own lives are not only a danger to themselves but to those around them as well. 

 

So, how then do we create a safe environment for all people?  

yikes... too much.

 Maybe it's stupid, but I always feel bad posting rants on my blog about how tired I am.  I always vowed I'd never be on of those "emo" bloggers who just complains about how much life stucks and how the world is out to get them.  Especially, when my life doesn't suck and the world is not out to get me.  There's just so much right now... except not.  

What happened (as the Sophie cat reaches her paw across the key board getting in the way) is that I got scheduled to work eight shifts in a row.  That's eight nights of homelessness, addictions and intoxication..in a row.  It was a scheduling "error", sort of, but it couldn't be fixed easily, and I got stuck doing it.  Worst of all, because it occurs over two pay periods it's not overtime.  Today is shift seven, I left after only three hours yesterday on shift six because I couldn't handle it anymore.  That and I choked on a pretzel and basically stopped breathing for a couple seconds and then puked and coughed and hacked and puked and cried infront of my coworkers.  Mostly though I was just so exhausted, and my headached, and people were fighting in the shelter.  I just could not stand the thought of having to go down into the drunk tank later that I went home.  Plus the enforcer was upset with me about something I chuckled at during shift change and was trying to pull some sort of explanation out of me, looking for my secret plot I guess, but I don't have one, REALLY, no secret plot.  

Anyway, I can already feel the tension building up in me, and I'm on the verge of tears, less then an hour till work.  I do NOT want to have take drugs to go to work, but one of those clonazepam I have sure seems like a good idea.  My doctor always says "take them, it's better to take them then not", but to tell you the truth I've taken maybe 7 since May when she prescribed them - up to two a day.  I like my Effexor, but for the most part clonazepam seems like a cop out.  The enforcer always goes on a rant about how people with mental health issues shouldn't work at our job, he's wrong, but if only he knew about my anxiety, what would he think of me then!?  

Giving myself some persective on the situation and looking at the big picture helps.  I only have two more days of this and in just over 3 weeks I'm going to visit best friend for a whole WEEK!  My job can be made hard by having something which is probably GAD but it's under control and I've worked hard at that, I CAN do my job, and I AM good at it.  While tonight seems hopeless there's a possibility of getting a better job on the other side of our building doing actual social work (not that what I do isn't social work, but it's more...traditional then watching drunk people sleep).  I'm going to apply for it as soon as it's posted, and since I know I was close last time, hopefully I get it this time!  Otherwise, I am probably leaving this job and this organization for somewhere more professional anyway.  

The truth is, I have it pretty good, but feeling crappy is okay.  I have a hard two nights ahead of me, and I'm tired.  It's okay to be tired.  I will do the best that I can do tonight and that's all that I can do.  I also won't eat pretzels, lol.  I'm going to put on clothes, start the car, gather my stuff, and I am going to go to work.  I am going to try and pay attention to the good things, and I am going to do this, one way or another, I'm going to do this.  

oh...and I'll have to feed the cat of course, not that she'd let me forget, she's staring at me as I type just waiting... 

things I love...part two

The last time I wrote about the things I love I wrote about specific clients who really touched me.  I think today however I'll just make a list, because I need a reminder of some of those great things in love, those things that make life special, cheer us up, and give us hope.  And so, here are some of the things the dreamer likes.  

Cuddles with the Sophie cat

Phone calls with best friend

Time wasted with bestest bud

Awesome bible studies

Tim Horton's double doubles

My pink water bottle

Lots of space around me in yoga so I can spread out like a starfish

Good fiction

Memoirs

Sleeping with no pressure to have to get up

Unexpected naps

Someone else doing the driving

Low gas prices

Chai Lattes 

Earl Grey vanilla tea (yummy)!

Moderatly busy nights at work

Van patrol

Church

Watching Sophie cat flick her ears

Singing along to songs in the car

Tigger

Babies sleeping in my arms

Snowmen

Lamp light

Spring once the slush is gone

My 4.98 foot spa (awesome, awesome price)

Raspberries

Burning fancy candles

Apple cinnamon febreze

My christmas sheep

Starbucks

Hanging out and eating dinner at Street Ministry

Laughing

Dutch Blitz

Pictures in frames

My new plant pots

Lying down after a difficult day

Sleeeeeeeeeeeeep

and so many, many more... it's an ongoing list, but for today, that made me smile! 

things I love

I post a lot about the hard stuff at work. The stuff that breaks my heart. The stuff that hurts. The stuff that makes me wonder about society and the world I live in. And that stuff is very real. What's also very real is all the good stuff. The great stuff. The stuff that makes me come back day after day (because it's certainly not the money...)

I love the clients I work with. They are an amazing group of people and despite the fact that they are homeless and living on the fringes of society they give me huge hope for the future of humanity and faith in the resiliency of the spirit (and the body for that matter). While some of the people I work with are very down and very unhappy with their circumstances, some of them are the happiest people I know. People who are genuinely fun to be around and have the kind of smiles that just make you want to smile along too.

Ed is an older gentleman, definitely a senior citizen and has been living on the streets for a very long time. I almost never call him Eddy the way most of the staff do. To me he is always Mr. Johnson. I'm not sure how that started, maybe because he's older or maybe it was a joke and he really seemed to like it, i don't remember anymore. Mr. Johnson always has a smile for me and when I have time to sit down with him he always has something to say. Once, he was explaining to me that he always carries food with him and he pulled from inside his jacket an entire package of bacon and exclaimed "I eat it raw!"

Then there's Frank. Frank spends most of his time drunk, or at least a bit tipsy, and yet he almost always manages to stay sober enough to function. He used to have a hat that said "drunk man walking" and it was the most appropriate thing! Frank always has a grin for me, and when he's standing or sitting, a handshake (i see him lying down in the shelter a lot). Frank has the distinction of being the only client to have ever kissed me. I was shaking his hand one day when he pulled it to his mouth and kissed it, to which I replied "no kisses Frank" and I remind him of this often when I think he's going to try again. I think he's about 40, but it's hard to know.

Greg is a very quiet man, but when I've had the opportunity to sit and talk with him I've been able to learn a lot about him. He's a traveler, and has been all over Canada, but stays here to look after his sister, who he is always losing (they get drunk and separated most often, or so it seems). His sister has facial features which suggest FASD and it seems likely he looked after her when they were children as well. The one thing about Greg, a happy go lucky sort of guy, to be careful about, is waking him up. Both the police and I have made that mistake. He once almost got arrested for assaulting a police officer when they woke him up while he was sleeping on a park bench and he took a swing at them. He'll utter strings of profanities and insults if his sleep his disturbed. Then, once awake, he comes over and apologizes quite sincerly.

People like these are the people who make my job worth doing. If everyone I worked with threatened to kill me and gave me huge guilt trips I'm pretty sure I couldn't do what I do. It's the balance that makes it do able. I balance I've so far been able to find.

what you do unto the least of these

There's a verse in the Bible which has been on my mind a lot lately. Jesus is telling a parable about the Kingdom of God and what things are going to be like in the end times. Jesus tells his followers, as recorded in the book of Matthew. In the story, the righteous are puzzled because Jesus thanks them for feeding him, clothing him, and taking care of him and they say they have never done this for him. He answers, "Truly I tell you, just as you did to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me".

I am so blessed to have a job in which I am able to provide things for people. I able to feed the hungry, give clothes to those who have none, shelter to those who are cold and give hope to those in pain. My job is awesome. The problem, of course, is that I cannot do this for everyone who needs it, or who wants it.

Saturday night I was shift manager which meant I had to spend the whole night in the shelter as well as answering phones and the window and such (no escaping to the drunk tank for me!) Thankfully I didn't have to kick anyone out, unfortunately I had to turn 20 people away at the door. That is the most people I have ever had to turn away in one night, and to say they were unhappy about it would be a HUGE understatement. I had to get the police to remove one of them because they were banging so hard on the window.

I found out that the shelter across the street was referring people to us even though I had told them already that we were full. I called and got lectured by them about how they don't accept intoxicated people so what else were they supposed to do (we accept people in any state of intoxication as long as they're not disruptive). I told them I didn't know, but they asked them to please stop sending us people we couldn't take. They called the police about a client, so then I had the police inside the shelter looking suspiciously at the empty mat of someone in the bathroom, so that they could put someone there the other shelter had kicked out. I had the hospital phoning getting upset when I couldn't take someone who was done in emergency - note, just because they use us as a mailing address does not mean there is a guaranteed mat for them, we are an emergency shelter.

I was able to get one person a ride home, and someone else a cab. Why would you want to sleep in a shelter if you have a home? In this case, they were too tired and drunk to want to walk there so thought they'd sleep it off on the province (we get some government funding for the shelter). So that's 2 out of 20, the police took the 1, and 2 others wound up in the drunk tank after they went back to the shelter who referred them to us and got annoying. So 5 out of 20. I have no idea what happened to the other 15.

We started taking turns turning people away, I couldn't take it anymore and neither could anyone else, because the same people kept coming back and just begging me to let them in, and I couldn't. We were already five over. And they screamed and pleaded as they stood outside shivering. Imagine being at the point where you have to beg and plead to come into a homeless shelter. If these aren't the least of these, I don't know who is.

Now rationally, I know that we have to set limits. I know that it would have been impossible for us to be 25 people over and that it would have created fights, chaos, and a standard we couldn't live up to in the future (people need to know that the full sign means full). I know that homelessness is a far larger systemic issue then I can tackle alone or quickly. I know that other people's housing crisis are not my crisis and I don't make them that no matter the guilt trips they use. I am not responsible for their shelter. They had plenty of time to look for a place to stay, it's been cold for months, 2AM is not the time to scream at me.

But then, as I stood in church singing Christmas carols it was like that verse was haunting me and I started cry. I really couldn't handle crying right then, so I bit my lips and quit the tears, but the verse was still there. "What you did for the least of these..." What did I do for the least of these? I turned them away to freeze in the snow. I shut the blinds so I didn't have to look them in the eye as they screamed at me and pounded on the window (this is a last resort for us, we really like to treat people as people, but once the screaming starts...) I told the least of these to go away, even though I used much nicer words.

I came home and cried. I think it's a good thing I have five days off.

overwhelmed - or something

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed these past few days. The enormity of the problems I see on a daily basis can be kind of consuming. For the most part, I'm quite good at maintaining a healthy distance, putting things in perspective and staying positive. This past week however there have been a few situations which have been hard and the mind numbing cold just doesn't help anything.

This week for the first time I found someone sleeping under a heating vent, by choice, not because they were passed out drunk. For some reason, this really touched me. When I asked them why they made that choice, they simply said they had no place to stay. Another person, in a doorway, refused even our offers of a blanket, let alone a warm place to stay. A man what I believe was an actual heart attack. I have a lot of people with chest pains, most of the time they beg for the ambulance. This man, clutching at his chest, gasping for breath, wanted no help at all (note, we called and he was taken to hospital). An unrousable man later told us he wished we had just let him die. And of course, the girls working the streets just keep getting younger and younger.

I am sick of fighting with the other shelters. The politics of homelessness are stupid and frustrating. I'm sick of watching my mouth and having my actions be dictated by our directive not to do anything to make the clients go to the media. Why, because they are, they're making good on their threats, and we can't afford the negative publicity. I'm sick of not being able to say what's really happening because we're not allowed to say negative things about the other shelters (although I do understand this). I'm sick of not having enough space for freezing people.

Working in the drunk tank is also difficult. Until you've done something like that, it's hard to explain. It's hard to explain the death threats, the law suit threats, and the constant insults. It's also hard to explain how it can break your heart to have to lock someone up and forceably hold them. On the flip side, it's also hard to explain what it's like to have to kick people out of a safe warm place because there are drunker people coming in.

Of course, my heart is not literally breaking, and for the most part I am able to put aside all this stuff and effectively do my job. I'm able to go about my everyday life and not think about this stuff. These past couple days though, it's just seemed a little much. Someone at church said I looked sad, and i just didn't know how to explain. There's just so much, so much I see, and sometimes it just gets to you, especially as my clients start to worry about Christmas. I'll go to work tonight, and I'll do my job with a smile, just like always. But inside, inside I'm a little sad tonight. Sad because a job like mine has to exist, and sad because its just seems like we're not doing enough. Sad because people are hurting, and there's only so much we can do to change that.

maybe I just need a good cry...

remembering

It's amazing how the things we did in our past can begin to invade our futures no matter how much we try to ignore them, forget them, or pretend they never happened. Nobody likes to remember their mistakes, especially the ones that affected us in a deep and painful way. While looking back and learning is good, sometimes the pain, just seems like too much.

There's a part of my life I rarely talk about, a part of my life that changed me and influenced the social worker I am today. Interestingly enough, it was a job I had, and organization I worked for, and the people I met there, people who were supposed to be professionals, and that I looked to for guidance, support, and professional example. A lot of things happened at this place, a lot of things I don't ever want to remember. And right now, a little piece of that, a piece in which I had a very non professional relationship with a client (though not sexual, don't worry) has come back to haunt me.

I no longer blame myself for everything that happened there. I was only 18 (well, 17-19 technically) and the people in charge were horrible examples, however it cannot be forgotten. Because now, this client, who called me her best friend, and whose kids I once "hid" from family services (looooong story), is now using our services. And that brings a piece of my past I'd like to erase slamming right back into my face whether I like it or not.

So far I've managed to avoid all contact, and I think I'll be able to continue doing so. We haven't talked in years (3?) and her children are in custody, I have no idea what a conversation would look like. Her presence however, brings up feelings in me I thought were gone, thoughts I considered dealt with, and new challenges to overcome in terms of being a professional.

Because, what's important to realize, is even though we change, our past is still there, and we have to learn to deal with it's consequences in the present.

The sad cat

This is my Sophie cat. She's pretty awesome. Although, I've been working on clipping her claws... one paw at a time, with a day inbetween. She is NOT happy. I still have a paw left (back right) and a one claw on each left paw when she FREAKED out before I got them all. But, this post is not about Sophie, although it is about cats.

As social workers, we get taught to have boundaries. Not just the "don't have sex with your clients" boundaries, but emotional boundaries as well, so we don't take our work home with us. Sometimes that makes us seem a little hardened, but it's how we survive our jobs. And so, working at the shelter, I've gotten pretty used to seeing people in pretty bad life circumstances, and while it angers me, and is something I'm passionate about, it doesn't break my heart when I look out at the shelter.

Last week, I saw a cat by the dumpster where we park our vans, as I walked past, it ran and hide under the warm van. I didn't think too much of it, there are a lot of stray cats around, or cats that have simply gone for a walk and will return home. But, I kept seeing the cat each day, and it had the saddest look in it's eyes. Luckily (talk about amazing luck), one of the night staff runs a cat rescue during the day, so I went and talked to him about it. He told me he'll watch for it, and we took it out some food. He also said, if it keeps coming round, but won't approach us he'll get a trap. It turns out he's rescued two other cats from behind the building, he showed me pictures of them now, and they're both really pretty.

Many of my coworkers were of the opinion that I should let the cat freeze to death, that it would be better for it. I however did not agree. They reminded me to have boundaries, not to let things get to me, etc... but here's how I see it. It's okay to be upset about the cat. The cat is not a human. The cat is something different. It's helpless, it has no responsibility for it's situation. And it just looks so sad, and skinny, and scruffy. I can't take the homeless home, but I can try to look out for this little cat. (I'm not taking it home either, but still...I believe I've found it a home if we catch it and it is tame, not feral). Poor little thing...

Finding Balance

Balance is not the easiest thing in life to achieve. I realized yesterday, after I spent the majority of my morning crying (and eating most of a frozen pizza) that my life was out of balance. I continued on my way, upset, but glad for a night off and bible study with a group of close friends. I continued to think about balance. I had a nap last night, and wound up waking up before 5AM. I decided I'd go to morning yoga.

This morning's yoga was what is referred to as a "flow" class, meaning it's more fast paced and a lot of things are joined together, and of course, being a hot yoga studio, it's in a hot room. So I went, and I sweat, and a tried to just let go. Not only is my life out of balance, but my body seemed completely out of balance too, I couldn't stand on one leg no matter how hard I tried. After yoga I decided I wanted to go to Starbucks, and walking there in back in the crisp air, the sun beginning to rise, I had a revelation.

My life doesn't have to be out of balance, and I am NOT falling apart. Things are bad at work right now, but that is just one aspect of my life and a very small part of my journey. Besides that, things are not always bad at work, and I am the only one who can change my reactions to things. Other parts of my life are going well, sometimes it seems overwhelming, but everything will get done. I will keep an eye out for new jobs (I applied for one yesterday), but it's not a rush, it doesn't have to happened today, tomorrow, or even next week.

The enforcer keeps his life in balance by dictating order and having discipline. He needs a hierarchy, chain of command and things to be exactly right in order for him to feel balanced. I need something different. My life seems more balanced when all my relationships and human interactions are going well, including my relationships with my coworkers. The enforcer has a hard time with me because I sway his balance. I want to be inclusive, to share work around, and he feels he needs to tell everyone exactly what they need to do. He sways my balance because he takes all my power away, and this leads me to feel at odds with him.

I like my job. I like the people in the shelter, and for the most part I like my coworkers. That being said, I have absolutely no intention of trusting any of them for a while. Which is hard. But, I have to remember also that there are different kinds and levels of trust, and while I may trust them to have my back, I don't have to trust them with information about this situation. It's going to be hard, but I am going to work on shutting my mouth and simply letting the enforcer make all the decisions when he is coordinating. No more will I say to ccf "do you want to do trip A or trip B, because the enforcer will simply tell us who has to do what. As I've said before though, he is not always the coordinator when I am on, and I think I am just going to have to deal with our different work styles when he is. Since he said very plainly he's not going to change, I am going to have to adjust my style if I want to keep doing my job.

And so, life will continue, and so will homelessness. I'm sure I will move on from this job far before the enforcer will, and so, when it comes to retirement and I look back on my life, he will only be a small blip on my radar, a lesson learned, a story to tell my students and a distant memory.

bad bad bad

The meeting this morning did not go well... and while I don't think the enforcer will actually try and sue me for slander and libel, well, he did put it out there. He says I'm trying to be the coordinator and tries to claim the incident never happened, that I've constructed a giant plot against him and that his gut, which has never been wrong, is telling him I have ulterior motives and a huge plan. Besides that, at least two of the people I trusted to talk this situation out with told the enforcer exactly what I said. And I can't for the life of me figure out which ones. Basically, I'm looking for a new job. We'll see... we'll see.

sometimes we get what we want (and realize we're not sure we want it)

So after a lot of heart searching a consulting with a couple colleagues I trust, I decided I would talk to my boss about what happened, and what's been going with, the enforcer. It was hard, harder then I thought it would be. I discovered there's a blank space in my memory of the event, which kind of freaks me out. I don't remember how it ended. I remember being in the corner being yelled at, and I remember being on the phone, getting ready to pick up donations. I don't remember getting up, or the argument stopping.

Anyway, my boss says we have to all get together and talk. Which is of course, what I expected. However, now that it's happening, I'm less then enthused. It doesn't help that I'm hearing from other staff that they've tried to deal with the enforcer and nothing has changed. All that will happen is my boss is going to try and make him listen to my side of things, and then make me listen to his. And I need to of course try and get through this without crying.

My boss basically said well, this is what the enforcer is like. Well, you know what, that doesn't make it right! I don't care if it's him being him. That's like when I got told "boys will be boys" when I was being bullied in middle school. The bullies aren't supposed to win. You know what it is though, is seniority with the union, management can't touch him unless they have an incredibly good reason. And if anything happens, it's going to be me who winds up having to change shifts, something I don't want to have to do.

I think the worst part of this is, we're not going to meet until next Tuesday morning (because of the weekend and the fact that the enforcer and I have only 3 days on together not 5 (I work his days off and he works mine). But, my boss is phoning him today to give him notice for the meeting. That means i have minimum three shifts (probably four) during which I have to work with him, knowing we have to do this later.

I'm going to be honest right now, I mean if I can't be honest in my blog, where can I be honest, and say that this is really upsetting me. And honestly, I'm upset and embarrassed that it's getting to me. I'm crying more, about other things too, I'm grumpy and cranky, I'm tired all the time, and going to work just isn't good anymore when I know he's going to be there. I have to deal with this one way or another, and I'm glad I spoke up, but wow, I feel like total crap. I'm sick of crying, I'm sick of feeling like crap. I thought once all the changes in my life were done things would level off for me, but then this happens and things seem to get even worse. I will get through this, but what will it cost me verses what will I gain!?

tear off a piece of me

I got in a huge fight with the enforcer today. The kind where I wound up running to the bathroom and crying. NOT a good thing. I'm not sure I'm ready to write about it, although I will. I had so many posts planned out in my head, but now I'm just not sure. I'm not even really sure what happened, or if either of us was actually right. I'm really upset though, and really not sure how I'm going to keep working with him. Apparently I'm "hard to work with".

bad bad day

I had a bad day at work last night. There's no other way to describe it. Yuck. Part of it is that I'm really stressed about packing, cleaning and moving, but part of it is just that last night sucked. I went into it with a really good attitude, but alas... it sucked all the same.

The drunk tank was a gong show. It just never slowed down all evening. At one point we had seven police cars waiting outside. Seriously. Don't they have anything better to do then pick up drunk people?

But the thing I found hardest was a woman who was going through a psychotic episode. Situations had lead to her going off her meds, and here she was, drunk and delusional. She was just freaking out, and my supervisor would NOT let me go into her cell to calm her down and it pissed me off. I was eventually able to calm her down through the window, but seriously. I mean, the poor woman was lying on cement crying and shaking, she's wasn't violent. But, I know he's just trying to protect me.

We called an ambulance, because we couldn't release her to herself in that state, and she'd been there a LONG time. Because it's a mental health crisis though, it's not an "emergency" apparently. We'll, I'm sorry. She was far more in need of intervention then many of the people I call the ambulance for who have physical complaints. This woman was seriously, seriously freaked out and desperately needed help. Bah. It took 40 minutes at least for an ambulance to arrive. I mean, I call for a possibly broken ankle and it comes with sirens blaring (read: not an emergency), and yet for this, they just slowly drive up.

We were also short staffed. TWO people called in. Thankfully a couple people but in a little over time, but we were still short. We'll be short again tonight. I am NOT impressed.

So much more happened, but nothing all that exciting. I just feel very...beaten down. Most of the time I find with my job, but tonight just really wore at me. A lot. sigh.

mood swings and me

Every now and again I have a crazy weird mood swing. Not often, not once a month, maybe once or twice a year? It really depends. Before therapy and well, becoming not a teenager I used to be permanently this way, a mood swing was what happened when I was the "normal" I am now. Anyway, today seems to be mood swing day. I can only do self care, take deep breaths, and hope it swings back the other way soon.

When I'm in this mood I'm in, I'm impulsive, agitated, and well, I have a habit of hurting the people I love the most. Last time I wound up getting in a week long fight with best friend. This time, well, let's just say my day has not been...good. I was not my usual caring, compassionate self at work. Went straight from work to street ministry where I extremely impulsively took a man's sniff from him and dumped it on the street; and made best friend help. I was not understanding with one of our guests who is very mentally ill, or with the one who is quite rude to me. And now I'm at home. Rather ashamed of myself, but biting my tongue and posting here to keep from emailing anyone because my emails tend to get me in trouble when I'm feeling like this (ie cause week long fight with best friend).

I am going to be compassionate with myself. I deserve it. I work a hard job, and going from work to street ministry is NOT the best thing (thankfully with my night job starting I won't be doing it any more). There's a lot of change happening in my life right now, and I'm stressed about my sermon for Sunday (well, for the next three Sundays). So, my sermon is in my head. Right now, it's just going to have to stay there I think, unless I suddenly become inspired, because I really need to relax tonight. Maybe write some more about homelessness, and philosophy, tell some GOOD client stories, we'll see, we'll see.

writers block

I had an awesome night last night. I had a couple clients just really open up. It was hard to hear in some cases; hearing dealers talk about the young people, mothers, pregnant women they've sold to. But it was good. Good for them especially.

Now I'm lying here in a sunbeam having writers block. I need a sermon for Sunday. I've already picked out my scripture; way ahead of time, so I need to preach about that. Weeds among wheat. I just can't think of anything all that exciting or meaningful or new to say. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll stick with plain and simple. I dunno... writers block.

why is it so wrong to care?

I may be new at my job, but I am not naive. I am not "not hardened". I am not hiding from reality. I just happen to care. The job I have now isn't my first experience with the population, far from it. I've seen it all before (well, not all, new and weird stuff happens everyday, but still, it's not "new"). And I still care.

A woman, who came in to IPDA (the drunk tank) as a Jane Doe (and probably should have gone to the hospital not us), had gone for a swim in our city's gross, disgusting and COLD river and was picked up extremely intoxicated with no pants on. When I went in to wake her up there was a puddle of urine on her cell floor and it took me a HARD shoulder pinch to wake her up. I would have gone for knuckles to the sternum next, but rolling her over would have landed her in the urine. And you know something. I felt bad for her.

I was talking about it with a coworker, and my coworker felt no sympathy for her what so ever and gave me a bit of a lecture about the fact that I had some. She pointed out that people are responsible for their actions, and that these are the consequences of her actions. Get drunk, party loudly, do stupid things, wind up in the tank. Plain and simple. And it is, I firmly believe that people are responsible for their actions. I don't think that has to stop me from feeling bad for them. It takes a lot before a person winds up half naked and dragged in. I have no idea what her life story is. But you know something, it doesn't matter. Because what matters is what I see before me. A wet, smelly, dirty, intoxicated, half naked woman. And I feel for her.

I don't think that makes me a bad social worker. I really don't. I'm writing about her tonight not because I'm "taking her home" with me, but because I'm pondering the thoughts of my coworker. She will not keep me up tonight. I don't think I let my sympathy get in the way of my empathy either. If I had been there when she was released I certainly wouldn't have bent over backwards to excuse her behaviour, but I would listen, find her some try clothes and try and connect her with any needed resources. I would try and understand what brought her to that point. And if she didn't want to talk, that's fine too.

I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I want to care about people. I think that is a big part of who I am, and I can't see that changing anytime soon. When I can't care about and feel some sense of sorrow for the people I work with, then I don't think I should be doing this work. On the other side of the coin, if I start caring too much, I start obsessing and despairing on a regular basis, that's bad too. If it effects my work so that I'm breaking rules and messing with the policies, that's a very bad sign. Right now though I feel like I have a healthy balance, and I pray that as I continue, I'll be able to maintain it.