Awesome Disabled

So, as it turns out, I had an issue my car insurance. I found out yesterday and was panicking about it. Like, full on panic. A type of panic that I haven’t felt in a very long time. Chest tight, breath coming in gasps, crying, shame cycle, the whole nine.

Plus there was a mouse in my apartment. And there have been a butt-ton of recent changes to routine, so this car insurance thing was the straw that broke the camel’s whole back. The cortisol was flowing, and I was struggle-bussing it.

I knew I had to deal with it today, but each time the thought of it nearly sent me back into the shame and panic cycle. I got to the AMA centre first thing in the morning, my mind and body in full-panic. But needs must, so we carry on. I signed it to talk to an insurance agent and sat down. I took out my ear phones to listen to a podcast, and was fumbling with them when I heard, “Hi! Please come in.”

I looked up and a man with a button-down shirt was looking at me. Normally the insurance person says my name when they call me, so I wasn’t sure that he was talking to me. I made eye contact and pointed to myself, a question on my face. He nodded. I went to sit down at his desk.

He smiled and spoke gently, asking me why I was there. I explained my issue, and he looked it up in the computer. What if I’m in trouble? What if I’m uninsurable? It was a long moment, and my stomach churned.

“I’m sure we can find a solution,” he said. “I just have a few questions for you.”

His voice had a slight accent, which was soothing to me. Altogether his demeanor was calm, which contrasted with my roiling internal turmoil. I could feel my body calm.

With every step, he would ask me a question and wait for my answer, ignoring my verbal fumbling and constant fidgeting. I was able to answer all of his questions, and we continued on.

Eventually we got everything sorted and he gave me a quote. I felt myself calm even further. I was almost done.

“Wait!” he called. My heart stopped.

“You may be eligible for a discount.”

I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He typed furiously and made a quick phone call.

“I was right! You get a discount! This will save you $150 per year.”

Phew. My breath slowed once again. He gave me the legal spiels about telling the truth and NSF. I signed the forms and paid the deposit, then he printed off my pink slips and organized everything into the little cardboard pocket, to put into my glove compartment. I began to cry when he handed me my pink slip, it was such a relief to have it. He continued to be calm and comforting.

I had just taken a course on crisis intervention the last few weekends. One of the main tenets of the course was to “let them borrow your calm.” I don’t imagine that this insurance agent had taken the course, but I was definitely able to borrow his calm. I don’t know what he thought of me, but I would imagine that he realized I wasn’t having the time of my life. I feel like me crying in a public place is probably what made that clear, but it could just be all my fidgetiness and general agitation.

I thanked him profusely, and left with my package of paper, breath returning to normal and body calm. I felt powerful and relaxed.

Thing is, I don’t think this dude realized what a difference he made in my life. For an insurance agent, I imagine most of the job is pretty routine, so I imagine it would be easy to treat it as a workaday life, clocking in and clocking out. It would likely also be difficult to keep your spirits up as a customer-facing role, dealing with the grumpy public.

But he saved my mental health today, and made a huge difference to my wellbeing. He created an accessible environment for me by giving me time to respond and by not getting frustrated about my agitation.

I am so thankful to this man who was just doing his regular job. He made a huge difference in my life by being calm and welcoming and non-judgmental. Don’t forget that you can do a lot of good just by interacting with people in your regular life. This man was literally doing the job he was being paid to do– I’m not sure if he made commission on insurance sales, but I know he was being paid to do the work he did. Sometimes we fall into the trap of thinking that if someone is getting paid for doing something, it “doesn’t count” on the niceness scale. (I think it’s related to a Puritanical notion about money and work and inhumanness– will get into it in another post.)

So, sir, if you’re reading this– you made a huge difference to me today. For everyone else reading, we can be the change we want to see in the world. We can be soft people.