I was there for a year. It was the worst my depression had ever been and no amount of antidepressants could fix it. I stopped taking care of myself. I stopped caring to do homework for college. On my days off, I laid in bed and barely ate, or over-engorged myself every couple of days. My paychecks barely scraped over $100 and I burned through all of my PTO. I got sloppy with attendance and was nearing termination.
It’s a thankless job. The only human communication involved was when an angry customer screamed in my ear call after call.
I would wake up crying before my shift and every second was agony. The pain in my chest never left and my mood was miserable. But I feel guilty. I feel weak for admitting I couldn’t do it.
And yet, a part of me is screaming, elated, “Free at last!”
submitted by /u/fatassclass
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