In my job I am witness to incredible misery.  Everyday I visit with and experience the misery of others.  I often see people on their very bad, no good day.  Nobody calls the police when things are rosy.

I witnessed a struggling single mother with three kids just trying to hang on to her sanity.  From a childhood of rape and abuse to an abusive husband to trying to stop the cycle of abuse. There she stood: no money, crappy house, emotionally distraught and disturbed kids, creepy landlord, vicious neighbors, minimal support system…. I watched the tears stream down her face because to her it all seems so futile. And I’m helpless to help.  There is no police solution. This is not my first time in their home.  It won’t be my last. I can’t fix it….. All I can do is stand there and listen.  So I do.

A drug addicted man on the verge of being homeless came into the police station today.  He asked for me by name.  He told me he was frightened in his living situation.  I could see the effect his narcotic of choice was having on him as twitched and rocked and clenched his jaw while he sat before me.  He rambled on about his issues… some of which may have been imagined….  All I can do is sit and listen.  So I do.

A transient came running up to my patrol car to say “Hi”.  She’s 50 going on75.  At one time she was a fitness instructor but those days are passed.  Now her mind is scrambled from meth and pills.  She’s living her misery on the mean streets.  She wanted to tell me about getting yelled at by somebody.  But there is no police solution. All I can do is listen for a minute…. and make an escape.

A thirteen year old boy was hiding between the foot of his bed and the wall in a space about 15″.  His mom called because he threatened her.  She sleeps with a baseball bat by her bed. She’s afraid he will attack her while she’s asleep.  He has some emotional stuff caused by abuse and trauma.  He was in misery and wanted company but he didn’t trust men.  There is no police solution.  I couldn’t even listen… because he wouldn’t talk.  I could only “be there”…. So I was.

“Tiny” used to be 6’7″.  Now, at 60 he isn’t.  Life has not been kind to him.  Emotional and mental issues, heart problems, epilepsy, diabetes….. you name it, Tiny probably has it.  Tiny was upset over roommate problems. Tiny was having a miserable day.  Tiny is also an incredible artist.  Once the conversation went from problems to art and music Tiny’s day got slightly better.  Because there was no police solution, all we did was listen…..

The common thread between these (and 100’s of other stories) is how a couple minutes of compassion eases the pain.  Just giving a little company seems to ease the misery for a minute.  Once the pain and misery are relieved (if only for a minute) the problems get better…. So that police are no longer needed. This is astonishing to me. Not sure that being a compassionate companion was in my job description… But it should have been.

Imagine compassion coming from me…. a guy they call “salty” and “grumpy” and “gruff”…. Don’t let this get out…. It’ll ruin my reputation as a hard-ass.

Maybe it’s “Company heals Misery”….

Of course, your mileage may vary.

Dr Jay