What Have I Become?

I don’t know how much I like myself any more. I run a very small call center, a call center supposedly for people with disabilities, or family members with disabilities or what ever. We are listed in the phone directory all over the state and we have a toll free number and the name of the agency starts with the letter “A” so we are the first, in many cases, agency people come to in their desperate search for solutions when they finally realize they cannot any longer continue down the path they are on. Many of these folk actually do have disabilities, others wish they had disabilities and a lot are just cons trying to get another month of rent, food or what ever they can with as little as possible.

I work with all the groups fairly well and more often then not I am the bearer of bad news. I am the end of the road, I am the one who tells them this is it, you’re going to loose the apartment, house or cart are all the above so get used to the idea and get on with it. This used to be hard on me to tell these folks “the news”. Actually, at first I would not tell them the “ the news”. I would hang up leaving the caller that I would pull a rabbit out the hat and some where and find them the rent money they did not have, or keep their utilities on for another week or month but in the end they hung up and would off the hot seat for a couple of weeks and I lived in dread till the next month when the calls would start again. This would continue until I finally told the new there were no more services I would greave with them and feel guilty and dirty after I hung up the phone thinking and wish I could have done more. Part of the reason I let this happen is because I did not know any better. I like my caller thought the world was going to end for them because they were going to loose the apartment, mortgage or lights.

But, you know the world never did stop turning, life kept going one day after the other and I got hard but not necessarily un feeling but I sure cut down the time the weeper was going to keep me on the phone with his hard luck story. I leveled with the caller sooner after I got a feel for the call that they most likely were going to loose the apartment, yes they were going to be homeless—for a while but life would continue and they most likely would survive. I often sided with the City, or the State or the boss when the caller wanted compensation or worse vengeance because one of these entities would not let them slide just because the caller had a disability. I have heard the stories of the bad husbands and bad wives who are trying to kill them, cheat them or just use them. It gets old. I tell them to let go and move on life is too short. What really continues to surprise me is many of the folk I give, even the grimmest news, seems relieved and genuinely thank me for taking time to really listen and really respond to them. I often tell them to call me back and let me know what happens to them because in some detached way I really care what happens to them.

I can do this and at the end of the day or week go home make dinner watch Seinfeld and sleep well. But I have lost something somewhere. I am not sure I like who I have become.