This Past Wednesday I went to Pittsburgh, PA, to a dinner at Acrisure Stadium, the home of the Steelers football team, to celebrate my thirty years at the grocery store where I work. They celebrated people of different years, starting with twenty-five years and then every five years after. A video was played for what happened at the grocery chain each year that was celebrated. I remember 1995 for more than just starting a new job. It was the year I decided I needed to take care of my mental illness.
Thirty years ago, I was deeply depressed, suicidal, and self-injuring. I tried very hard to push through college, but despite my good grades, I was drowning inside and couldn’t continue. I decided I needed to take a year off and take care of my mental health. My plan was to work at the grocery store for a year or until I was well enough to finish college. Then I would quit, get my two-year degree, and go on to a four-year college, but God had other plans for me.
I started in the bakery. The manager yelled a lot, we had to remember prices of baked goods in the display case, we had to take cake orders and roll orders from customers, and I struggled with that. I talked to no one except when I had to. Every time the manager yelled, I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. The manager reminded me of the teachers who put me down in school. I fought each day to pull myself out of bed and go to work. I wanted to REMAIN unseen, but that was impossible in a busy grocery store.
After a week or two in the bakery, the manager decided I was not a good fit there. I was moved up to the front of the store, known as the front end. I was given the job of bagger. I didn’t have to talk as much to customers and bagging was much easier than remembering prices. I was still silent unless forced to speak. I bagged groceries and pushed carts, but inside I felt like curling up in my bed and crying until the tears would no longer fall. I wanted my agony to end, and I found relief in hurting myself. My mom went out of her way to get me into therapy.
As I went to my therapy sessions, I pushed my way through my workdays. Cashiers started talking to me between customers. They asked me questions about my family and so on. My replies were short, but as time went by, my answers became longer. I started making friends, I was on medicine for depression, I was going to therapy weekly, and my depression began to lift. In grade school, making new friends was difficult and I was alone a lot, but at my job I became popular. My co-workers liked me for who I was, and that to me was the most beautiful feeling ever.
After my year off from college was up, my depression had lifted, and I returned to college on a part time basis. I continued to work at the store on weekends. In time I became a cashier and began to hold conversations with my customers. I started to get customers who made a point to come and see me, no matter how long my line was. I found that I enjoyed my fellow employees and customers.
In 1999 I graduated from college and went to work at my job during the week and on weekends. I realized with my mental illness and learning disability, I couldn’t go on to a four-year college. It took me several years just to get a two-year degree. I was on a high, though. For the first time in my life, I had friends and a social life. I even began dating, something I never got a chance to do in high school. I stayed out until 2:00 AM bowling with friends, drove half an hour home, and got up and went to work at 8:00 AM. I didn’t get much sleep, but I had fun.
Through my thirty years at the grocery store I overcame mental illness, stopped self-injuring, made friends, tore down my wall, became social, slid into mental illness again, went through many health problems, and found the love of my life. I can’t forget that I recovered from mental illness a second time. I grew into a better and stronger person over the years. For a while I regretted not being able to go to a four-year college, but in time I realized how much I loved and still love working with people.
My customers brighten my day. Each one is special like the one that calls me super woman, and the one who likes it when I tease him, and he tells my customers to pull my finger. There’s the older guy who says I’m cheating on him with my husband and the woman who brings me a pamphlet with interesting facts to read. There are ones who have passed on, ones that are like friends, and ones I’m getting to know. Each customer is special, and they always ask me how I can always be smiling. My reply is, “I love working with people.”
Despite mental illness, I preserved and found happiness and success as a cashier. Sometimes God has different plans for us then what we have for ourselves. Even if you don’t accomplish the goals you set for yourself, that doesn’t mean you failed. Push through your mental illness to reach recovery and discover God’s plans for you. You can make dreams come true, you can build a successful future, you can find new paths, and much more.
I’m proud of my thirty years at my job. I accomplished a lot on the job and personally. I stand in the light of recovery because I didn’t give up.
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