Venting Early Enough

By Christa

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I hated my job. By hate, I mean more than waking up and uttering, “Oh no! It’s Monday again! I wish I had a better job,” it’s more like waking up and shouting, “Oh no! Can’t I live in a universe with no Mondays, Fridays, or weekends? What am I doing with my life?” (We will talk about the noise complaints in another article.) I could spend paragraphs talking about what was so bad about my job during the start of Covid-19; instead, we will focus on how it impacted me.

The stress, the unmet expectations, and the occasional grouchy customer were not the worst part. What impacted me the most was the feeling of being stuck and forced to watch how mediocre my situation was. While self-blame, anxiety, and feelings of despair were rushing in me like tardy customers on Black Friday, I made the worst mistake. I chose to bottle up the feelings inside. Sometimes I decided to ignore the pain. Other times I decided to minimize it. Either way, the emotions were locked inside of me.

I realized my approach was more toxic than I thought after I read an article from Eric Ravenscraft published in the New York Times. According to it, a research from Southern Methodist University suggested that writing about traumatic experiences or undergoing talk therapy had a positive impact on a patient’s health and immune system. It explains how holding back thoughts and emotions is stressful. The negative feelings will be present either way, but it is up to the person to repress them. That can cost the brain and body, making it more susceptible to get sick.

After finding myself one tear away from a breakdown, I had no other choice. I called my brother. In a few minutes, I shared the agony of months of struggle and frustrations with him. Venting is more complex than it sounds, but the process I chose brought positive results. First, I gathered both the courage and the humility it takes to open up by reminding myself that everyone goes through hard times and has someone who cares about them. Then, I narrow my focus to one issue. Of course, I felt like the whole world had nothing better to do but to be against me; however, I chose to ignore that and focus on what bothered me the most: feeling powerless. Finally, as much as I wanted to narrate every impromptu roasting contest that I witnessed, it was more helpful to express my feelings than countless details. Yes, facts are facts, but my reaction towards them mattered the most.

After hours of laughter, advice, and more laughter, I felt like I vanquished gravity. I felt hope and control sprinkled with joy. He helped me processed my feelings and even offer support that would allow me to leave the job. With my spirit raised, I felt a bizarre urge to crown myself with a dunce cap. I couldn’t believe that I suffered in silence for months when the answer to my problem was one phone call away. From this day on, I tried to vent early enough.