Life at the new job

I could have written many times earlier about the job. It certainly isn't for lack of stories. For me, it was about timing and desire. Well, the timing is right and the desire is here.

I'll call him The Grinch to protect those who aren't innocent but those whose name I can't say for HIPPA reasons. He is around 55 years old and has paranoid schizophrenia. Oh, and he is horribly mean. This is unrelated to his illness. He just happens to have the illness and be mean at the same time. I think the mean part came first but that is just my opinion. He is known for treating women poorly. For those who know psych terms, he has many transference issues. For those who don't know psych stuff, he had a bad relationship with his wife and takes it out on all other women.

I had met with him in his apartment on one other occasion. He was bearable. Not so today.

I arrived and he was already on edge and irritable. In the 5 minutes I was there he misunderstood (or didn't listen) to everything/anything I said which was all of about 2 sentences. He became hostile, said he wasn't a Jew and that he believed in God. I am going to note right here that my initial question was, "How are you?" Crazy question I know!!

Anyway, he said that he tells people that if they don't like him or don't like what he says that they can get the f*** out of [his apartment]. I asked if he has had to tell anyone that lately. He shared that he was telling me that and repeated himself louder. He continued to cuss me out using the "F" word, certainly winning the world record for number of times it can be said in such a short period of time.

I informed him in my calm and soothing tone of voice that I wasn't going to file a complaint but that I was going to leave. He became more hostile, continued to cuss me out saying the "F" word repeatedly, and finished by demanding I get the f*** out of his apartment and not to let the door his my a** on the way out. I kindly said I would call him later in the week to see if he was ready for a visit.

And then I called my mom. Moms are good for things like that, like being able to share exactly what was said and being appropriately appalled but not to appalled since she knows the population I work with. My next phone call was to my co-worker to inform him of my home visit with The Grinch. He said leaving was exactly the right decision.

Since I have only worked with kids, knowing what to do in situations with seriously mentally ill adults sometimes stumps me.

In my previous life as a child's therapist, I would have looked him in the eye and said, "It's ok to be mad. It's not ok to be mean" and I would have left. Perhaps I will try this next time. I wonder if The Grinch would beat his cussing world record. Probably but I would leave with a smile on my face. If they act like children, treat them like children.