The past few weeks here have been really, really awful. As I stated in the middle of February, I was moved (without my consent) from working at my shelter to working with clients at another shelter. At the new shelter I had 9 clients, all men, and was often there as the only staff person. There was sexual harassment at my old shelter, but it was nothing compared to the new one; at the new shelter, sexually inappropriate comments were daily and severe. I was incredibly uncomfortable being there by myself, but figured I would be able to tough it out, because I was told I would only have to work there through the end of February. The end of February became the middle of March. The middle of March became the end of March. The end of March became "until each client has permanent housing", which could be months.

The day I found out my stay at this particular shelter had been extended indefinitely, a client became extremely hostile and aggressive towards me. I was the only staff person in the building with a violent and irate male client twice my size in the office. It was terrifying. I calmed him down enough to get him to leave the office, shut and locked the door, and called the social worker who was sometimes at the shelter. She told me to just stay where I was and she would deal with it when she got there.

This was (understandably, I think) a really scary experience for me. I told my supervisor that I did not feel safe at the placement, and also told my local program coordinator for MVS. My supervisor agreed I could work part time at the new shelter so I wouldn't have to be there all the time. This wasn't ideal, since I didn't want to be there in the first place, but this year of my life (and hopefully my whole life) is about serving, so I figured I would be a servant, swallow my pride (and my fear) and deal with it. The first attack was on a Monday. The next Thursday the same client came into my office and flipped out again, and I was alone in the facility again. I maintained my composure long enough to get him calmed down and out of the office, shut the door, and wept. I have a VERY strict "No Crying at Work" rule, which, until that day, I had managed to follow pretty well. Not today. The stress of the harassment, the fear of even being in that neighborhood, the anger at being left there alone when I have no training or background in this all came out, and I cried and cried. At work. I still feel badly about it.

I emailed my supervisor and my local program coordinator and told them that what had happened and that I was going home for the day. I went home, watched TV online, cried for another hour or two, and then went into work at my old shelter. Basically they decided that I don't have to go to the new shelter any more, which is great, and I was (and am) really happy to be back with other staff who support and encourage me (and stop clients from assaulting me, when possible). That was until I found out yesterday that all the clients from the new shelter are moving into the old shelter, including the one who seems to hate and want to hurt me. You can guess how excited I am about that. Stress induced stomach pains, anyone?

I will say one thing about the whole situation: it has made me appreciate my housemates, especially the other volunteers, much, much more. Even before the client became violent towards me, I hated the new position so much I was considering dropping out of MVS, moving back in with my parents, and trying to get my old job at the zoo until it was time to move to Serbia. By the time the client actually flipped out, I was ready to have my bags packed. What stopped me is the love and support I received from my housemates. I have been honest about feeling a little disappointed in community; the living situation has not been the blissful nest of love and support I was naive enough to expect. I did not chose to live with these people, and there are some I would not chose to live with. In the past few weeks, however, they have been wonderful, expressing love and encouragement and concern for both my physical safety and my mental health while in these situations. I don't think I realized before how much they care about me, or how much I care about them. I wish I didn't have to be attacked to realize these things, but I'll go ahead and take the silver lining where I can get it.

I apologize for dropping of the face of the earth for a while, especially to those of you I owe emails or letters or phone calls. Hopefully things will get better and I will feel sane enough to be a decent friend again. Or maybe this client will kill me, in which case you can have my books and CDs.