Confessions of a Trash Heap


I’ve been thrown away. Over and over again, actually. By other people who don’t even know me. People underestimate the power they have in their dealings with others. They can build others up and encourage them, as we all know we should. Or they can tear them down. Rip their personhood to shreds, toss it in an empty barrel, and light it up. But then there is nothing else. With the personhood goes the integrity, the kindness, the love that person had within them. It’s now gone. Destroyed by someone who didn’t have the vision to see beyond themselves and their current mood when crossing paths with this person.

My whole career, I’ve worked at such places. I am trash. I am nothing. I am not worth their time. That is what is told to me by the hateful words and the edgy body language. All because they are having a bad day. And now I am as well.

When you work with the general public, you always meet people that have bad days. But their outstanding bad days can seep into your own pores just by being close to them. They take it out on you and over time, that’s what cuts you to the core.

One person cussing and spitting in your face is one thing. But day after day after day of the same scenario with a different face…that tends to wear on you. And I’m a worn out rag. I wonder if I was once a beautiful silk scarf full of bright color. But I really don’t know. I can’t remember. Now I’m just a rag ready for disposal. Ready to feel the all-consuming heat. My only reprieve from this condemnation. Somebody light the fire already before there’s nothing left of me.

Photo credit: Thomas Hawk / Foter / CC BY-NC


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