They say a bartender acts as a therapist. I decided to make it official. My only credentials involve listening to hundreds upon hundreds of people’s problems, over more years than I can admit. Let me wipe the bar down for you, put down a fresh coaster, then pour you a drink. Pull up your stool and tell me all about it. Remember, I’ve heard it all. If you have a question, please write DiscountTherapist@Yahoo.com. You will remain anonymous. Also, you get what you pay for.
I hate my job. My boss is extremely difficult to work with. All she seems to do is criticize me, knock me down and brow-beat me into submission. I can’t seem to do anything right. It seems to have gotten worse since she’s gotten pregnant. I need this job, but I’m not sure how to make our work relationship congruent.
-Indentured
Dear Indentured,
First off, work is never going to be fun.
There’s always going to be difficult people, aspects of the job you dislike, long stretches of painful boredom and mundanity. People think bartending is a party. Sometimes, it is...but, rarely. My job is a job and most of the time it is hard work. I have to deal with gross stuff, drunk and belligerent people (and also difficult coworkers, at times). Never mind what I do now. You’ve come to the right person. Before I threw my keys on the break room table and walked out on my last job, I was a high-volume corporate retail manager—for 17 years. Retail was literal hell—as you can imagine—but, they sent us to countless seminars on how to manage. One class I actually taught dealt with the subject of dealing with difficult people in the workplace. Finally, a question I’m actually qualified to answer.
First, before I give you some tools, ask yourself if you have a problem with authority. Some people don’t thrive in the work environment, because they "don’t like to be told what to do." If this is the case, you will never succeed or be happy in a teamwork environment. You need to open your own business or work hard to become the boss yourself, but, even then, there’s always someone above you. If this is the case, that’s your problem, not anyone else’s, and I suggest you grow up. Also, ask yourself if you don’t like a woman telling you what do do. Some men hate it and I’ve been there often in my career. Be honest with yourself. Again, if that may be the case, the problem is you.
Let’s say those two things are not the issue, which I hope they aren’t. You mentioned she was pregnant. She could be dealing with hormonal issues and physical discomfort and that could make things worse. But, it sounds like this problem was going on before the pregnancy. I’ve worked with a lot of pregnant women in my time and I never knew them to turn into oppressive work nightmares, so let’s cross that off.
So, maybe this person really is a horrible boss. You’re not doing anything wrong and they don’t know how to manage. I have seen a lot of ill-equipped managers in the past, and when I left my career, it was due to working for a higher-up that was a fucking terror. They exist out there.
Here are some tips I taught in my seminar for dealing with difficult coworkers:
1. When they criticize you—no matter how shitty they say it—thank them for what they said and repeat it back to them calmly, so they know that they were heard. Then, ask them for some things that you are doing right, so you can continue to do them. This will challenge the person to not only see your value, but it shows that you’re willing to work with them.
2. Always remain calm. If you appear angry or upset, it will be used against you. It’s not subservient, it’s taking the high road.
3. Make lists every day of tasks you’ve completed. If the boss comes to jump down your throat, you can show them a physical record of work you’ve done and ask them what other things you can add to the list. Also, you now have a record for corporate, in case the boss claims you are slacking (or, if they have unrealistic workload expectations).
4. Have a secret journal and record everything that was said to you (and anything that made you feel unfairly treated). Record conversations on your phone, if you can. These will come in extremely handy if you need to go to court or file for unemployment. This is key. If this person is really shitty, this could also help get them out of there. Hating your job sucks. We have to spend so much time at our workplace, that it feels like purgatory when it’s awful. I left my career and never looked back. I said goodbye to my vacation days, bonuses, 401k, health insurance and torched that immaculate resume, to pour beers and shots. Remember, you can always leave. If you really hate it and you can’t work with this person, you can find something else. It’s NEVER too late to start over.
-DiscountTherapist
Growing up, I was always sheltered from death. My father’s mom died suddenly from a brain aneurysm when he was 13 and it was incredibly traumatizing. As you might suspect, this had an impact on my upbringing. At seven years old, I was not allowed to go to my grandparents funeral—I wasn’t even told about it. In college, they put my dog to sleep without telling me. We were never even allowed to light candles, because it reminded him of a funeral parlor. Then, at 27, in some hellish irony, my father got cancer that ravaged his body and he died an awful, painful death. In his final moments, he was clinging to me as his lung filled with fluid...all I could say, through the tears, was "don’t be afraid." I was not ready for that. After a couple years of spiraling out of control, leaving a handful of friends and lovers in my wake, I found my footing. Ten years later, I’m still incapable of handling death. Most recently, my ex-best friend’s father passed away—he was my father’s best friend to boot. Unfortunately, we had a massive falling out two years ago, which seems like a good excuse to avoid the issue. I just can’t get myself to pick up the phone or even write him a letter. I feel this trauma has leached into my love life as well...bouncing between relationships, never allowing myself to feel anything too real and ultimately drowning those emotions at the bottom of a bottle. I hate that it seems normal to me now. How the hell do I keep my past from ruining my present and stop myself from turning into a totally repressed, apathetic, isolated asshole?
-Thanatophobiac
Dear Thanatophobiac,
When I was 18, my father’s mother—my grandmother—was found wandering the streets in her underwear, in a bad part of town. She didn’t know who she was or where she lived. Two days later, she died of a stroke. It was the first time I think I’d seen my dad cry. I curled up in his lap in his big easy chair, like I used to do as a child. I had no idea what to say. My dad was so bigger than life, gregarious and 6’4". It scared the hell out of me, to see him this way. I didn’t go to the funeral, because I was scared. No one made me. I regret not being there. I’m sure my dad needed me, but I didn’t know how to do it. When I was 22, my mom took her own life. She left no note, no reason and I’m still not sure how to cope with it. Her funeral happened to land on 9/11. I remember waking up that morning, trying to get dressed in something appropriate for a funeral for someone who gave you life—not giving a shit about planes flying into a building. My fucking mother was dead. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I knew my mom was a little mentally ill—that was obvious, even as a child— but, why? I struggle to wonder why she would leave us behind.
After that, shit got weird. I didn’t know how to cope with it. I packed it down, like a Christmas sweater under the bed. I went about my business, like nothing had happened. I was exhibiting behaviors that I didn’t realize was a result of this, like cheating on my boyfriend with multiple partners. I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, feeling like I was choking on my own tongue. I had to move my bed away from the wall, because it felt like I was in a coffin. I would lie awake for hours trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I will die, even though it was torture to watch. I’m an only child, so it was up to me. Over the next few years, every time I opened the door to his house, I expected to find him. I tried to move in with him, but he wouldn’t let me. My dad was committing suicide, as well. He didn’t want me to know that he was purposely drinking himself to death. He passed when I was 27.
I was all alone now.
I went through a lot of fear about death that first year. I put my ass in therapy and quickly lied my way right out of it, convincing everyone that everything was fine. I was afraid to face it. There was so much to unpack. She kept asking about my mother and I couldn’t talk about it. I told her what I knew she wanted to hear and she graduated me. This is when I had my very first drink of alcohol. It made everything better. I had never drank before then. Then came the string of shitty, unavailable and booze-soaked abusive relationships to follow. Because of the deaths, I was scared to have kids. What if something happens to me and I leave a child like this? I vowed to never have one. I also think I purposely pick shitty people to be with, because I can’t attach—which you mentioned— and, that is common, according to the therapist I paid to trick. I also literally couldn’t function without a drink, following in dad’s footsteps. I shared my story with you because I want you to know that the after-effects of unexpected deaths manifest in a lot of similar ways. I want you to take a small comfort in knowing that how you are living your life, your fears and your inability to commit to people is what happens. You aren’t strange or broken. You also don’t have to feel bad if you feel distant or clinical around friend’s struggles with death. I’m either the best or the worst person to talk to on the subject matter. I’ll give it to you real, won’t sugarcoat it and say the things others won’t say. It’s either appreciated or offensive, and I don’t care, either way.
How to cope with death? You’ve had an entire life of fearing it, either through your father’s stigmas and your own experiences. It is scary for everyone, once they pull the wool off their eyes and realize that this shit is really going to happen, that you are going to be completely alone in that moment and nothing is going to help you. Once you’re woke to it, it’s hard to go back. Numbing yourself out is the easy option—trust me, I know. It is an option, but life is going to speed by you so fast doing it. I know you can’t turn your brain off or "live, laugh, love"’ your way out of this reality. I mentioned I was in therapy for this and they didn’t have any really helpful coping mechanisms that worked for me, personally. Therapy could ABSOLUTELY be helpful for you. If you’ve never discussed these issues with a professional, I recommend you do, if you can afford to do so. It won’t solve your fear of death, but there can be a lot of insight that can be gained and give you more tools to get through these feelings. You have to be ready to be honest, though. If this bartender can fool the therapist, anyone can— and, it’s a waste of both your time and theirs. It’s like going to rehab with a suitcase lined with drugs. If you’re not ready to unpack, don’t bother. I will share with you some things that have helped me cope. I cannot say these will work for you, but this is what I do:
1. I’m an alcoholic—self-medicating. This, I do not recommend.
2. I work out a lot. Not for a hot body, but it helps with the debilitating anxiety, PTSD, depression and insomnia. It’s definitely not fun, nor easy to want to do, but it helps a little.
3. Prescriptions. I hated them, but a lot of my friends swear by them.
4. Most importantly, this will sound like contrite bullshit, but, slow down and enjoy things. We know we are going to die. Try to enjoy the very small moments that don’t suck. Did the St. John’s bridge look pretty today? Did someone make you laugh? Are you grateful that you’re able to afford the fancy bread? This will sound stupid, but when I wake up and feel my PTSD symptoms, I force myself to list at least a few things that are going well in my life. You know, like I have a nice job that pays me, I have the best dog in the world, I have at least two friends who are amazing and put up with my crap...shit like that.
5. Talk to a person who is much older than you. There’s a reason why other cultures revere their elderly. As their life travels on, they really get a frame on what’s important and what isn’t and it can be inspiring.
6. Try to understand that it’s literally going to happen to you, either way—no matter what you do. If you fear it, stress, it will still happen. You can get hit by a Tri-Met bus tomorrow. You could die of old age at 100 years old. If you can cope with that, you’ll feel better.
7. Hate life so much, you beg for the sweet release of death. Also not recommended.
The weird thing about being a human, is we all feel so alone and so misunderstood, but we are all so very much the same. Every single person on this planet is afraid of death. Regardless of country or culture. Since the dawn of human existence. That’s why the concept of heaven was made—to make us feel like there’s a place for us after we pass. The pain of the human experience is knowing our death is eventually on the table. Is that an answer to your question? No, but just know you’re not alone. Everyone is scared.
-DiscountTherapist
