So the other day at work, my first day back after being to sick to walk straight, some guy i barely knew at work just dropped dead of a heart attack right there in the middle of the post office. Today we had mandatory one on one time with a grief councilor, who in our brief fifteen minutes together has dubbed me as "Displaying sociopathic behavior" and as I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, she explained that I have a severe lack of empathy for anyone that is not me, and she wants to see me again on a more long term basis because she thinks I'm really messed up. I mean seriously, I didn't even know the guy's name, and rarely if ever even interacted with him. What am I supposed to do, break down in tears over his death? Would you? I might as well have never met the guy, and she went on and on about how my refusing to get to know my coworkers (of which there are over 200 might I add) is just another part of it.
Sure, I'll be the first to admit that I do have a serious problem empathizing with other people, and have a hard time recognizing emotions in people I'm not familliar with (signs of Antisocial Behavioral Disorder or Sociopathy, thank you wikipedia). What annoys me about this is that she's crawling down my throat about it over a guy I saw so little I couldn't even describe him to you. He might as well have been a stranger off the street. I didn't even witness the actual event, I was in the break room getting a coke. And, not to mention, that I was still sick after a pretty long stretch of being unable to work because of it. It was my reaction to this event and ONLY this event that she based that opinion on. Which is why I have a strong dislike for therapists. They made me go to one back when I was sent home from my mission, and the guy kept pulling radical conclusions out of nowhere to describe me and none of them were even close, although he was the first one to suggest that I might have a mild electrical problem in my brain afer observing me pausing, completely unaware of it, in mid sentance several times, which did turn out to be true a few months later.
Anyway, long rant short, she talked to my supervisor, lying and saying that I might be having some serious problems due to the incident, and now I'm stuck going to her for an hour a week every thursday (in 45 mins for my first actually). If I miss an appointment I am automatically suspended from work without pay. My only consolation is that I'm not paying for it, workman's comp is BWAAHAAHAA. I also find the prospect of having a certified piece of paper with all of my mental vices on it to jokingly wave at my parents and say "look what you did to me" somewhat amusing as well.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
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