Can you imagine seeing a tall, tattooed man coming toward you saying, "Here take this." In his hand is a cup with multiple unidentified pills in it.
I've been working as a psychiatric technician for two and a half years now. For all of you folks who have been stuck in psych hospitals by your parents because they didn't understand your "maladaptive behaviors", I am not your normal clean-cut, college-type guy. I am definitely a freak. How many psych techs have multiple piercings, both arms short-sleeved with tattoos, do public S&M scenes, and make a little extra money painting leathers jackets?
My normal workday consists of attending group therapy, taking vital signs, passing out medications, and talking with the patients about their problems. Their grandma is trying to waste your scared ass. Life gets interesting, eh? People who insist they are going to be executed by the Mafia, "respectable" people who got nailed for being pimps and drug dealers, and those rare individuals that see little green men with axes following them everywhere. Ahem.
Most of you have experienced life in the extremes ranging from suicidal depression to sociopathy of homicidal proportions. Most of the people who are in psychiatry got into the field to resolve their own fucked-up problems. Don't you feel much more relieved knowing the person on the other side of the restraints is just as fucked-up as you are? I'm bordering on being a histrionic dependent sociopath. All is fine and good in WackyWorld.
