I have a secret to share.

Does sharing defeat the meaning of the word Secret?

How about?

I have something to share but please don’t tell anyone else.

This would work right?

Keep it to yourself?

 

Ok here goes…

Where I live I volunteer for an organization called Crisis Line.

It’s a free, anonymous and confidential hotline that one can call for help.

We are a group of trained and certified volunteers that assist in potential suicide callers.

One can call for other counseling needs but mainly the purpose is for suicide.

All volunteers have pseudo names to maintain confidentiality.

 

I am sharing this for a few good reasons.

One is, paying if forward.

I’ve been so blessed in my life, my goal is to help others.

A few years back, I stepped down because of work.

The organization called out for help and I came to the rescue.

Despite my toxic work schedule I find time after work and on weekends to man the lines.

 

Work has not been smooth sailing.

It takes up all my time and beats me down.

I whine and complain and often think of throwing in the towel but a hidden force stops me.

I’ve lost balance but when Crisis Line reached out for help with volunteers I quickly raised my hand.

I said to myself, “what in heavens name are you thinking?  You’re already exhausted and you still want to volunteer time?”

While work zaps all my empathy and turns me into a monster, Crisis Line allows me to shower people with unlimited amounts of soft skills.

 

From 7am to 5 pm I am a monster at work putting out fires.

I get home, settle in and go online.

Nights on duty turn me into an Angel in disguise.

Just like that!  Jeckell and Hyde, Black and White, Devil and Angel.

I am amazed I haven’t been diagnosed with schizophrenia!

Bottom line?

 

I am unhappy at work, however, I continue to work because I know that deep down there is good reason why I am at work.

 

What makes me tick?  It’s knowing that I am able to help someone in need. A phone conversation of 30 minutes turns lives around. 

My listening hear brings hope to a caller in despair.

My voice brings laughter after the tears have been wiped dry.

 

My cross?

How I wish I could find the same amount of satisfaction earning my keep as I do when I don’t earn my keep.

 

So there, it’s out in the open.

I haven’t written in a long time because of this secret that technically is no longer a secret.

At least here at the green room, I’ve let go of a vulnerable secret that I know will remain a secret.