Walking out

Hit my psychic wall of what I could take, and had to leave work early, as I couldn't deal with people any more.  The crying, I suppose, is unprofessional, but I'm a human first.  Anyone who has ever worked a customer service job, whether in person or by phone (or even over the internet, now) knows what I'm talking about.  You absorb slight after slight after slight, for hours on end, because unlike other jobs, you can't close a door or really walk away (cashiers, waiters, bartenders, front office, service centers, etc., you're whole shift is with the public), and then you hit your limit.

I told my boss I was leaving because I couldn't deal with people anymore.  I think one of the assistants went in and told her why, I don't want to get fired, but I couldn't talk to anyone else.  Had already cried on four people, and taken time out for lunch to calm down, but there was no where for any privacy.  Sat with sunglasses on and wrote.

Came home and went to the park.  Sat and watched birds.  Tried to read.  Came home and had a long talk with my housemate about it.  It's seven hours later and it's still making me upset.  At one point I was furious.

I confronted a person because they were talking trash about me in the third person to other people, while I was standing there, as if I weren't there.  I've never seen this person in my life, and didn't see them enter the building.  I had been trying to figure out why all these people (20? 30?) were suddenly in the room, milling about in front of me, and who they wanted to see.  I was surprised by their presence, so perhaps I wasn't as happy and welcoming as I was "supposed to" be.  I'm not even sure what I was being accused of.  Only that when I asked, the response was that they had a right to be there, to which I replied, "I never questioned that.  I never asked you to leave."  (I've never asked anyone to leave.)  I asked two times, "Can I help you?"  (Which I ask everyone that enters through the door.)  And no one answered, and then finally someone came over and finally asked me where a room was, and I figured out who they wanted to see, and I called that person.

I don't know why it upset me as much as it did.  One of my colleagues said it was because I was attacked.  Maybe.  Or maybe it was just my breaking point.  (Being dismissed, "she" "that secretary," being invisible, being accused, being judged.  Being "less than" because of my status?  Being "less than" because I'm a woman?  In any case, being unworthy, in their eyes, of addressing their issue with me to my face.)  I don't know.  Normally, I suppose I would've ignored it.  Not sure what snapped in me.