Someone Who Has Ears to Hear

Everyone knows: its good to talk about something that is bothering you.

Caveat: not everyone will understand what is bothering you. 

 

When something is on your mind, and you’re struggling with how to process or deal with it, its a good idea to talk to someone about it. But, the person you talk to should be someone who is able to understand some of what you have to say.

911 dispatchers have a unique workplace experience. We deal with the ugly underbelly of society, and try to do so with professionalism and courtesy. Its not easy, and its not for everyone. Its stressful.

Certainly, though, its not the only stressful job in the world. There’s doctors, nurses, cops, firemen, air traffic controllers, ambulance drivers….heck, working at Carl’s Jr when I was a teenager was stressful. The list could go on and on. Any job can be stressful.

Some time ago, a co-worker left our dispatch center to work in an insurance company call center. He returned after a year, and got reinstated as a dispatcher. I asked what it was like working at the insurance company. Was it less stressful?

His answer, which surprised me at the time,  was a resounding no!

He said he’d rather answer 911 than deal with insurance company customers any day!

I asked him why?

He said, people get angry when their money is involved. They get personal, and get angry at the insurance company representative, as if they he was personally responsible for screwing with their money.

When people call 911, they’re often yelling and upset, but they’re not usually angry at the dispatcher, ya know?.  They’re calling to get help.

Just goes to show, any job can be stressful.  Every job has its own unique stress.

But when we need to talk, its usually good to talk to someone who understands your type of stress.

For instance, I might not understand the stress of being a kindergarten teacher.  But another kindergarten teacher might. 

I might not understand the stress of being a soldier. But another soldier might.

I might not understand the stress of being an stay-at-home mom. But another stay-at-home mom might. 

Most people do not understand the stress of working at a fast food joint. But if you’ve worked in fast food, you might. 

This doesn’t mean, just because I don’t understand someone’s stress, that I can’t be a listening ear when its needed. 

But sometimes I need to talk to someone who speaks my lingo; someone who understands my emotional pressures; who, when I  say “ya know what I mean?”, actually knows what I mean.

Some who gets it. 

Our department has a peer support program, which I highly recommend, though I’ve never used it. I hear through others that its a good, effective means of finding someone to talk to, who will listen. Use it if you need to.

But sometimes…. I just need someone to shoot the shit with, ya know? 

I have not taken my own advice, when it comes to talking.  I’ve kind of isolated myself, to my detriment.

I work in a big office, where its easy to find a work station off by myself. Somedays (to be honest, more often than not) I’ll work and answer phones, and barely say anything to my co-workers. I show up, say hello, banter a bit, do my work, and go home.

Over and over and over. For 27 years.

How unhealthy is that?

And I like my freakin’ co-workers!!

Some of them are funny as heck. And smart. And caring. Its a diverse group, with an amazing spectrum of life experience.

Some of then I’ve know for over 20 years!

So just today, I was talking with a few dispatchers, and the subject of what I’m doing with this blog came up. I said something about how I’ve heard writing can help with depression, so I’m gonna write about stuff at work and life, blah blah blah………..which led to a good, meaningful, if somewhat quirky, conversation.

We talked about how being a dispatcher affects us.  We talked about….

….how difficult it is to talk with family members about work, simply because they don’t get it. We don’t want to burden them.

….how we tend to control our feelings, trying not to be emotional, and as a result, we get emotionally numb because we don’t talk. We keep it in, stuffing it down, until we don’t feel anything anymore. (When the emotional dam finally breaks, though, look out!)

….how, when we’re at home, we just don’t want to talk. To anyone. At all. We’re talked out. (I find myself staring out a window in my living room, looking at the trees, when my wife is sitting in the chair in front of me. Sometimes I just don’t want to,  because I’m simply talked out.)

….and don’t even call me on the phone and expect to talk for 30 minutes. I got maybe 5 or 10 for ya. Text is better.

….how, when people ask us “so, what the best call you’ve taken”,….

(after I fight down the urge to punch someone… what the hell does “my best call” even mean? You wanna hear about the shooting, or the stabbing?)….

…..we have a hard time thinking of anything to tell them, because after a while, all the calls become a blur. Most of us have one or two “go to” calls that we pull out and tell our friends. Over and over over.

I noticed  to one degree or another, we had similar feelings. We had similar experiences. 

Finally, one dispatcher said, “This is what I need!  To talk about this stuff with someone who gets it,  this is what I need to do sometimes.”  

This conversation, this frank talk among people who get it, this freedom to say whatever we need to say, and not worry about political correctness or the sensibilities of those who simply don’t understand…. this is what we need.

Now and again, its not some specialized counseling we (I) need, its this type of group therapy (friends therapy?) where we just talk and chat and shoot the breeze, as peers and friends; where we make bad jokes, laugh about inappropriate things, acknowledge the ugly stuff (sometimes laugh at it), and realize we’re all in this together.

We acknowledge that what outsiders….

(jeez, how’s that for a term defining our family and friends? Outsiders? But you know what I mean, don’t you?)

…..find frightening and macabre, we dispatchers find downright hilarious. Our sense of humor is often ruddy and maybe even dirty, but that’s how we see the world and get through the day.

And that’s ok! Its honest!

Now, I must admit and acknowledge, there is a group of dispatchers in our office that practice care for one another, and have made deep friendships with one another. To you (and you know who you are), I tip my cap, and raise a glass, and encourage you to continue. You are the lights that shine in this dark place. You help push back the darkness. 

But, I have not availed myself of the good will of my co-workers as  I should have, and for that, I have to say, its my loss. I hope to do better. For my own emotional and physical health, I hope to do better.

I hope to listen more, to be a better friend.

So… talk.

Shoot the shit with those who can hear you and understand. Laugh at each others bad, sometimes lewd, sometimes macabre humor. It doesn’t mean we’re bad people. It means we wallow in the muck, and sometimes, you just gotta laugh at the muck and fling some shit on the walls.

Don’t let the gloom overtake you. If you need to talk, find someone. Join a conversation. Start a conversation. We’re all in this together.

Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto to talk to. Without partners, the Lone Ranger becomes the Lonely Ranger before too long.

So, do it for the sake of the outsiders in our life. The ones we love.

Do it for yourself (myself).

Besides, it sound fun!

(I’m preaching to my own self! Can I get a Hallelujah!)

I’ll leave you with this wisdom from the Bible.

Romans 12:15-16   “Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!”