MENSTRUATING SUCKS! (Part 2)

I wrote about one of the worst periods I’ve ever had in part 1. Today I write about the time birth control almost killed me – not really, but it could have!

Context: Birth control was recommended as a treatment for dysmenorrhea

Okay, the story. I went to Marie Stopes in Sandton to get a depo shot (Google it. Don’t use it, it’s poison) from people who’s answer to, “What are the side effects?” was “It depends, everyone reacts differently.” In retrospect I should’ve walked out after that. I got the shot anyway and it was the beginning of my second-worst nightmare.

I took only one dose and I had a bottomless period for 3 months, which is how long it takes for the poison to exit your system.

I had a swollen face for three months.

I had a bottomless period for three months.

I had almost no sex for three months.

I was depressed, moody, craving escape in the form of a mental breakdown (a different story about emotional abuse) and it was hell for three months.

On the fourth month it was not a bottomless period anymore, YAY right? Wrong! It was 15 days long with two rest days in between.

I saw three doctors who told me to “wait it out” and that it will “regulate itself” or maybe I should “Give it another try” – FRAUDS!

Doctor number 4 made the bleeding stop. Then I had to take the pill. I didn’t want to. The depo experience traumatised me and I did not want to take another birth control, but it was the only way to fix my cycle immediately.

What am I doing now? I’m on the pill. My skin is popping. My period is regular, shmegular and light as fuck. 

I feel like my body is mine again.

IF IT WASN’T FOR THE BITCH CALLED UTERUS I WOULD NEVER HAVE SUFFERED THROUGH THAT SO MENSTRUATION SUCKS! 

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“Looking for Telesales Agents with Cold Calling experience”

As an unqualified job-seeker, I have limited options. Most adverts I see for me include:
“Promoters needed!!!!
“Hostesses Needed to entertain up-market men” (Uhhh.. Nah)
And the odd PA/Internship adverts as well.

If you know me (no, you don’t) you’ll know that I’m over-ambitious and applying only to jobs I do not qualify* to get paid for. Even in times of desperation I refuse to earn my money by answering phone-calls and dealing with disgruntled customers. My days of waiting on tables & serving drinks to strangers at a bar are over and it is time to swim with the medium-sized fish now.
*because I haven’t received my university stamp yet

While scrolling past these peasant jobs *sneer*, I see one category which deserves to have it’s own website;  that of “Call Center & Telesales Agents”. If they created only one site to advertise all available call center work it would be bigger than Facebook. Don’t misunderstand me, call center work is okay for people who cannot afford to further their education, as well as matriculants who are awaiting entry into university – but not for me. No. The hours are terrible, I don’t speak Afrikaans & I’ve done my bit to learn customer service and ‘dealing with difficult consumers’. Like I said, time to swim with medium fish.

I imagine my life as a call center agent would be horrible. I’d wake up early, maybe 4am. I don’t have a license nor a car, so I’d be rushing to catch the earliest taxis. After connecting two or three taxis I would walk a young distance from the stop to the office.
I’d walk in and let out a loud “GOOD MORNING” to everyone else stuck with me in there for the day and begin to take my calls. You must understand that answering the phone and helping people with whatever problems they have is not an issue. As long as all the relevant information is on hand it would be no struggle at all.

COLD CALLING

The work of the devil.

“Hello, I’m calling from [company’s name]. My name is Lindelwa & I’d like a few minutes of your time to tell you about [product/promotion]”

“I don’t think I signed up for [company’s] information, where did you get my number?!” the unsuspecting customer [read: Victim] would respond.

I take a deep breath and try to remain calm while I figure out how to explain to this victim that I am calling out of the blue, at the instruction of my supervisor & I picked his number at random, from the telephone directory.
Furious, he shouts at me.
“YOU PEOPLE JUST TAKE OUR NUMBERS FROM THE PHONEBOOK TO DISTURB US WHILE WE’RE WORKING. NXLA! *profanity*” before he hangs up the phone.

I sit there, taking a few minutes to collect myself. I must take deep breath several times before I lift the receiver to my ear & try again.

“Hello, I’m calling from [company’s name]. My name is Lindelwa & I’d like a few minutes of your time to tell you about [product/promotion]”

“LISTEN HERE! SOMEONE ELSE JUST CALLED ME FROM YOUR COMPANY NOW AND YOU’RE CALLING ME AGAIN ALREADY? CAN YOU PEOPLE STOP HARASSING ME?” victim number two screams at me.

I don’t think I can take anymore. I have previously discussed with my employer the necessity of keeping & maintaining a database to prevent such situations. My plea fell on deaf ears.

An animated woman throwing a telephone receiver against the table. The receiver is broken into pieces.

I’m done

 

It’s a month later, after pay-day. I hand in my resignation.
I cannot handle it.