I Don't Want to Know About It

Sometimes I think I have a sign on my forehead that reads "Tell me all the things that you wouldn't/shouldn't tell anyone else, burden me with your problems, ask me for advice -- that's why I'm here" or maybe it just says something more to the point like: "I have two functioning ears." Whatever the case, I am often the recipient of oversharing.

In job interviews, the prospective employer often blurts out things about how dumb the previous applicants were and how much better my answers were to the interview questions (yes, this really has happened to me). When checking out at the grocery store, it's not uncommon for me to learn all about the checker's grievance with the grocery store chain and the lack of vacation. And, it's a given that if someone in the office is crying, I WILL walk by their office just as they look up toward the door in the hopes that someone will come comfort them. I am that person, the listener, the comforter, the bringer of hugs, advice and reassurances. I don't really mind this roll all the time. I like to make people feel better. I like to be there for people (especially friends... the strangers really need to go find their own friends.) But sometimes too much of other peoples' problems can rain down on me and leave me feeling like everyone else's' problems are my own.

I am in that overwhelmed place right now because, far worse than dealing with strangers dumping their worries or inappropriate ramblings on me, sometimes people too close to me pull me into their problems and I am not even capable of being an objective observer -- I'm part of the situation. This is where I find myself right now... I may be great at advice... or maybe it's that I'm really sympathetic... I'm not sure why I am a magnet for venting of every kind... but I need a respite.

Maybe it's hard to believe, but despite the sign on my forehead, not even I have all the answers all the time.