Truth. It’s not the best-paying job, I won’t be able to retire at 55. But it pays the bills, and more importantly, I love it.
I’ve been working as the Office Manager at a mental health clinic for over a year now. Some people come in, or call, and refer to me as the receptionist. I don’t care. You can call me the Bolivian Navy on maneuver in the South pacific for all it matters to me.
I answer phones, I take co-pays, I set up appointments, help people navigate the tangle that is American Health Insurance, coordinate medication refills, refer them out to rehab or get them hospitalized, scan paperwork, administer tests, help coordinate them get FMLA or Social Security/Disability, collect and distribute medical records, order office supplies, all the things that go on in a doctor’s office on this side of the checkout window.
The CEO insists on us using his first name. He knows everyone in the company (approx. 200). The H.R. department is more interested in making sure that the employees have the resources they need than that the company save a few bucks.
Bad back? The chair that will help you is $400? It’ll be delivered Wednesday.
Made a mistake? No, you won’t be fired–you’ll be trained. Training didn’t take? Well, let’s see where else in the company your talents can be utilized.
I’ve been asked the “where do you see yourself in 3 years?” question, and my answer was “hopefully, doing exactly what I’m doing.”
Some days it’s busy, other days…not so much. sometimes stressful, always rewarding.
People walk in off the streets with tears streaming down their face, and I help them get an appointment with someone who can help them get the medication they need (sometimes it takes awhile, but we do the best we can). Two months later, they’re coming in for a follow-up, and they’re smiling. I see heartbreak when a mother comes in to tell us her son had to go to the hospital, I see incredible transformation when someone who was suicidal is smiling and taking care of themselves again.
Show me a nervous 18-year old college student who is afraid of being labelled “crazy” and I’ll calm them down and let them know that no matter what’s going on, we’ll help them. An established adult who is just beginning to realise that their life is NOT going to go the way they had ever expected, they walk out knowing that they will have all the tools they need to be as happy as possible. A senior with memory problems? Got 'em laughing about it. High schooler coming to terms with having been born in a body which doesn’t match their gender? Welcomed and accepted with open arms, and treated respectfully and with equality. A young woman who apologizes for everything? I laugh and tell them that their apologies will not be accepted if they are not necessary–and they’re NEVER necessary.
I have, unfortunately, a great deal of experience with mental illness. Not my own, but I was married to someone with aggressive mixed-state bipolar disorder w/psychotic breaks, PTSD, Borderline, Dissociative Disorder, Agoraphobia, OCD and a half dozen other diagnoses. No lie, my life with her was hell. I moved out six years ago and have been happy about it ever since. But I grew from it, too. I learned a lot about what it’s like to live with mental illness, and it’s given me a perspective that few people have.
I use that perspective on the job, giving people a calming, welcoming and accepting experience, helping them to realize that the stigma of mental illness will not be tolerated in front of me, even when the stigma is coming from them.
I’ve gotten to see peoples’ lives change for the better. And I love it.
Who else here loves their job and wouldn’t trade it for the world?
