Before I go on with this, I want to preface that the inspiration of this story takes place when I was much younger and certainly less professional and responsible. At the same time, I think that to make our rebirth of sanity and the need to create healthy boundaries relatable, I wanted to add some of my story to add some flashes of interesting color.
I was thinking about the words of Howard Beale, who was played by the actor Peter Finch in the movie Network when he said, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.”
I am wondering how many times we’ve said this. I’m wondering how many times something has pushed us or prodded us to the point where we said the exact same thing.
I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.
I think of the times when we’ve accepted or permitted treatment that was either substandard or less than par. I think about our hopes that this treatment might improve.
Then, of course, there is the idea that by chance, we have to take a little but to get a little bit. Only to realize that the standards have been set.
I think about the difficulty that comes with the reversal or the change that needs to happen for the relationship to be fair now that the standards have been set.
Then I think about the blowups.
I think about the out-of-nowhere freak outs.
I think about the times when the mask slips off.
And we show the anger . . .
I think about the surprised look on people’s faces when finally we call for a change in the parameters of our relationship. Or maybe we just tell them to go shit in their hat!
I think about the shock people experience when they shrug their shoulders, surprised this is happening, and they turn their palms upwards to the sky, confused by the outburst, with a look of bewilderment taking over their face. Their eyebrows fold down and a corner of their upper lip curls with an astonished curiosity, as if to say, “Wait, what?”
I think of the reasons why jobs come with descriptions because there’s a reason for them.
Or let’s talk about how we need to work along those lines because otherwise, we can assume the responsibilities that go above and beyond our typical scope of work.
I think about the saying, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?
I think about the times people allow others to walk all over them, like a doormat, and how this almost becomes habitual or custom. Or wait no,
this becomes the standard.
I go back to those words again.
I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.
I think about the unspoken complaints which take place in a person’s mind before they reach this level. I also think about the damaging aftermath which takes place when a person reaches their breaking point, and then what?
They freak out?
They yell?
Maybe they hit the wall.
Or maybe they implode because they took on too much.
Next, they burn out.
I think about the people who put too much on their shoulders and carry the weight of the world on their backs (or so it seems). They do this to the point of serious discomfort or personal despair.
I think about the times when people work themselves to where they become sick or ill and to the point where they melt down.
Or how about their boss or their supervisor?
Or let’s talk about the person in their life who imposed or intruded, and since this was the standard, they assumed, “hey, it’s always been like this before.”
Right?
Then I think about the question that follows the meltdown and the burnout which goes, “Well why didn’t you say something?”
But maybe they did say something.
Or maybe because the parameters of the relationship were already set, so were the standards so no one listened when they called for better treatment.
Our boundaries become the guidelines which set the standards. Now, let’s look at what has to change. Let’s look at what has to take place after we’ve set the standards.
Let’s look at what we’ve established. Or let’s look at our levels of importance and where we place ourselves as a priority in our relationships.
For my own mental health, there are times when I have had to change the parameters of my relationship with others. There are times when professionally, I had to stand up for myself and call for fair treatment which is a tough thing when it comes to business.
I can remember when I was a young salesman in a suit and tie.
(Again, please refer to the preface in the beginning of this entry.)
I had an account that I was trying to break into. This was back when I worked as a trim salesman in the fashion industry. This was back when I would sample different buttons, zippers and fasteners to design teams. First, I had to break through to the design team.
That was a bitch.
Now, the bitch about this was afterwards, I had to get the production team to keep the business with me. Otherwise, they would use another vendor or less-expensive source.
This means I had multiple asses to kiss.
I remember one account specifically.
The designer was tough. I did not like the designer as a person. I did not like the way this person talked to others, including me.
But, business is business and if I were to break into this company, the orders and the financial reward would have been significant enough that perhaps the treatment would be worth it.
Now, to add some background, my sales had been slipping. I was offered the possible opportunity to get out of the position I was in and into a new field.
Why not go?
As it was, the standards had already been set.
I had a sales manager who threw a stapler at me. He dumped the contents of my garbage pail on my desk one morning.
There was another time when my sales manager took away my desk and commanded me to stand up until I made a sale.
I had worked for this company for more than four years. This was the standard. I allowed myself to be somewhat of a mascot in this firm.
I was not taken seriously. But then again, I filled this position somewhat voluntarily.
I say this because in my inability to set a better standard for myself as a salesman, and in my insecurity to call for appropriate treatment or command appropriate treatment through a sense of better, professional behavior; I agreed to this level of interaction.
As wrong as the treatment was, I accepted it.
I allowed for this as a subordinate and assumed that hey, sometimes in life – you have to take a little shit.
But let’s face it . . .
That wasn’t a little bit of shit.
It was a lot.
Either way, I provided the standards because I allowed for this to take place.
I allowed for this treatment and in my assumed submission to the comments and the insults and the practical jokes, this was an allowed sense of treatment.
So, now we go back to the designer who was mean as a rattlesnake and twice as evil.
I had just been run through the mill in a bad sales meeting.
None of my products were being shipped on time. My goods were being held back because other production took priority for reasons that were beyond my control.
I had my largest order, up to that date, which was canceled and now to add insult to injury, I was about to lose a big commission check.
I was yelled at. Big time!
The owner of the company told me without any confusion:
“I don’t care what you have to do. Just go out there and sell!!”
Here comes the insult to injury:
The designer called while I was in this meeting. This was not the first call that I wanted to make after a meeting like this.
But, business is business and sales are sales.
Not to mention that as per the owner, I had to go out there and sell!
I returned the call. The designer had an emergency to which I offered a reasonable option.
I offered a solution to which the designer argued and fought back.
I explained this was the best that could happen –
And to put this into perspective, the order in question was for a special button that’s made from a tagua nut. The button is somewhat expensive and when dyed to match, the color of the button comes with a wood-grained affect.
But, there’s a catch.
The dying process takes two or three days.
I offered the designer an option to have the samples delivered to their showroom by the afternoon; however, the buttons would be somewhat wet and slightly larger, until they completely dry and shrink to the desired size.
This was unacceptable but anything else was unrealistic on the designer’s end.
To be clear, the designer knew this.
But again, the parameters of the relationship had already been set, which means I had to endure a three to five minute browbeating, cursing and berating on the phone until finally – I decided.
I was mad as hell and I wasn’t going to take it anymore.
I told the designer they can go fuck themselves.
“You have no right to speak to me that way,” I said.
“You’ve given me $2,500 in business in the course of the year!”
I told the designer, “I don’t care how important you think you are or how big your company is!”
It was amazing how shocked and astonished the designer was.
I guess we can use the words insulted or appalled.
“I’m going to tell you boss what you just said to me!”
I answered, “Go ahead!”
I said, “They’ll be pissed that I wasted my time talking to you on the phone for this long.”
“Okay, okay,” said the designer in an angry voice, but trying to calm down.
“What about my samples? What time can you have them sent to my showroom?”
Amazed, I asked in disbelief, “Did you just ask me what about your samples??”
“Yes, what about my samples?”
I took off the mask.
I was mad as hell.
I removed the phone from the side of my face.
I turned the phone in front of my mouth and shouted, “What about em!”
And slammed the phone down.
I then stood up from my desk and walked away from my little cubicle.
I walked over to the owner’s office, opened the door, interrupted him with a simple, yet extremely stern comment.
“I quit!”
There was a conversation that took place afterwards, which calmed down, after the initial, “I quit,” took place.
As I stood up to leave the office, I was given a directive to go and do something for the owner.
I’m sorry, I said.
I don’t work here anymore.
Once more, astonished that this happened, I couldn’t believe the surprised look on my boss’ face.
In that meeting, I was asked several times, “Well, why the hell didn’t you say something about this before?”
The truth is I did say something before.
But who would listen to a mascot?
Who listens to the person getting the brunt of the jokes?
I was there to fill a role.
But –
I decided the role was not fulfilling enough for me.
Therefore, I quit.
Maturity and growth takes time.
I’ve learned this.
But boundaries take discipline.
This means that we have to make decisions as to what’s appropriate and acceptable because otherwise, we allow ourselves to be subjected to substandard treatment.
I say this because if the way we treat people and the way we are treated becomes a habit, we have to define what we want this habit to look like.
Otherwise, the boundaries are loose and, once more, we find ourselves giving up our turf to be imposed upon by someone who is out of their jurisdiction.
Oh, and by the way . . .
Years later I saw an old account of mine on Broadway. This person was a production manager.
This person was also mean as a rattlesnake and twice as evil; but more, this person used to think that I was physically intimidated by them.
Now, I offer this with full transparency and with this as a disclaimer; while I do not condone violence nor does this version of me support the way I responded, I admit to the mischievous grin on my face when I report this to you. Yes, this person recognized me. And yes, this person approached me and said hello in a way that was typical of them.
However, the leash was off.
The mask was gone.
I didn’t need to please them anymore.
So . . .
I told him what I thought.
Once more, the look of shock that took over their face –
I’m reminded of the old credit card commercial when I say,
The cost of my previous therapist: $95.00 an hour.
The possible cost of a lawyer fee if something physical took place: $750
Possible court fee: $200-$500 in possible fines plus surcharge (just a guess).
However, the look on this person’s face when I told them “Go fuck yourself,” in response to when they said hello . . .
Priceless.
The Written Addiction 