(no subject)
In the last week I have second-guessed my belief in there not being a god, my career and education choices, and my overall feelings on mankind.
In April I was hired at an adult foster home for men with severe mental illnesses as a direct care worker. I did two weeks of extensive training and learned how to read prescriptions and patient centered planning, administer medications, properly intervene in altercations, and who knows what else. Since then I worked at a home with three men. All three were diagnosed as schizophrenic at varying degrees and in no way were similar to one another. At one point I actually had a crush on one of the consumers, but he was hospitalized and moved to a different home. Another one of the guys moved to a home closer to his mother's house, leaving me working alone with a 35 year-old man that made me feel uncomfortable every minute of my shift. As soon as I met him I was able to tell he was a kiss ass and liked to sweet talk women, and I thought through rejecting him enough and jokingly telling him to cut it out he would stop. It never did. I dealt with him putting his hand down his pants and then touching me, walking around the house with morningwood, asking me what shade of pink my nipples are and nonstop invitations to have sex with him in his bedroom and become impregnated with his children. I had no clue how to react to any of it. It wasn't like he was my co-worker and I could get him fired. I worked for HIM, and ultimately, this is something I should have to deal with when working a job like this. I acted obviously disgusted and would persistently tell him to leave me alone while still remaining calm and nice to him, but it never phased him. On top of that, I learned in my week of training that he was a "recovering crack addict" and a diabetic. Through an agreement with his mother and case manager, he was allowed to leave the house between 7am-midnight for only 3 hours total per day, and within the first week it was extremely obvious he used this time to buy drugs. He made obvious phone calls, came home high, and at one point I found 20 liquor bottles inside of a couch in the garage. I addressed the situation with the home manager, and being that he was the only resident in the house, she did absolutely nothing to remedy the situation to ensure she still had a job. I was able to file a Recipient Rights report, but I still feel really shitty about it. Today I received a phone call from the house manager stating that the same guy is in the hospital "due to a series of events" regarding his poor self-monitoring of his diabetes and that when he is discharged he has to go to another home because he is not being monitored well enough at ours. Which means I am out of a job.
After dealing with this for two months, all I can do is question if whether or not the job field I am going into is right for me. I am INCREDIBLY empathetic toward the mentally ill. Half of the papers I write in my classes deal with the poor treatment given to prisoners who also suffer with mental illnesses. But if this one guy makes it hard for me to sleep at night, how am I going to take on a career that will ultimately deal with mostly men? I'd like to think that the situation with him is uncommon, and above all, my self-esteem is so low that I refuse to think it should even be happening with me, but its making it very difficult for me to even want to finish my degree. I am too thin skinned. And way too sensitive.
Also, for the past 3-weeks my grandpa who lives with my parents has been in the hospital. He had what the doctors called "high risk" open heart surgery, and luckily it went great. It has been a long time since I have had to deal with someone in the hospital. Not since my dad's motorcycle accident. It was the first time I cried for someone besides myself in over a year.
fuck
the
world.
In April I was hired at an adult foster home for men with severe mental illnesses as a direct care worker. I did two weeks of extensive training and learned how to read prescriptions and patient centered planning, administer medications, properly intervene in altercations, and who knows what else. Since then I worked at a home with three men. All three were diagnosed as schizophrenic at varying degrees and in no way were similar to one another. At one point I actually had a crush on one of the consumers, but he was hospitalized and moved to a different home. Another one of the guys moved to a home closer to his mother's house, leaving me working alone with a 35 year-old man that made me feel uncomfortable every minute of my shift. As soon as I met him I was able to tell he was a kiss ass and liked to sweet talk women, and I thought through rejecting him enough and jokingly telling him to cut it out he would stop. It never did. I dealt with him putting his hand down his pants and then touching me, walking around the house with morningwood, asking me what shade of pink my nipples are and nonstop invitations to have sex with him in his bedroom and become impregnated with his children. I had no clue how to react to any of it. It wasn't like he was my co-worker and I could get him fired. I worked for HIM, and ultimately, this is something I should have to deal with when working a job like this. I acted obviously disgusted and would persistently tell him to leave me alone while still remaining calm and nice to him, but it never phased him. On top of that, I learned in my week of training that he was a "recovering crack addict" and a diabetic. Through an agreement with his mother and case manager, he was allowed to leave the house between 7am-midnight for only 3 hours total per day, and within the first week it was extremely obvious he used this time to buy drugs. He made obvious phone calls, came home high, and at one point I found 20 liquor bottles inside of a couch in the garage. I addressed the situation with the home manager, and being that he was the only resident in the house, she did absolutely nothing to remedy the situation to ensure she still had a job. I was able to file a Recipient Rights report, but I still feel really shitty about it. Today I received a phone call from the house manager stating that the same guy is in the hospital "due to a series of events" regarding his poor self-monitoring of his diabetes and that when he is discharged he has to go to another home because he is not being monitored well enough at ours. Which means I am out of a job.
After dealing with this for two months, all I can do is question if whether or not the job field I am going into is right for me. I am INCREDIBLY empathetic toward the mentally ill. Half of the papers I write in my classes deal with the poor treatment given to prisoners who also suffer with mental illnesses. But if this one guy makes it hard for me to sleep at night, how am I going to take on a career that will ultimately deal with mostly men? I'd like to think that the situation with him is uncommon, and above all, my self-esteem is so low that I refuse to think it should even be happening with me, but its making it very difficult for me to even want to finish my degree. I am too thin skinned. And way too sensitive.
Also, for the past 3-weeks my grandpa who lives with my parents has been in the hospital. He had what the doctors called "high risk" open heart surgery, and luckily it went great. It has been a long time since I have had to deal with someone in the hospital. Not since my dad's motorcycle accident. It was the first time I cried for someone besides myself in over a year.
fuck
the
world.