Changes: New Blog Title and Look, Same Focus

Sometimes, it's just time for a change.  To shake things off.

A new beginning (see posting January 5: "the last few years expanding the horizons" which talks about new beginnings).

Maybe a metal roof (see post on January 2 "What Lies Ahead" which explains the analogy of the metal roof).

Or just perhaps, a little bit of both.

For some reason even though I've recently lost a volunteer position which was very important to me and meaningful on my road to recovery, after the initial shock, I've felt hopeful.  More than hopeful.  Expectant.

Something good, something new, something better is coming along.

Since the workplace bullying ended badly in 2011, I've come a long way on the journey of recovery.  Many changes, good ones, have happened.

I'm not the same person I was then.

*****

Years ago, long before 2011, I set up this blog.  I called it Ramblings of a Deranged Mind because I wanted a cute title.  In the beginning, when I first set it up I wanted to showcase my writing style.  I wanted to write about weird and wacky things in my life.  But for some reason I kept putting it off and off and off.

I'm really good at procrastination.

Finally in 2012, I started writing.  I was by then in the chronic phase of the aftermath of workplace abuse.  I was struggling.  In a lot of ways.  Physically especially.  Also emotionally.  Spiritually, though, was another matter.  I never lost my faith in a God who loves me.  Who cares about me.  Who knows me intimately and still loves me.

I started the blog postings when I was still near the beginning of this chronic phase.  I really didn't have a focus at the time.

Later, in 2013 I took a Blogging course sponsored by Writers Digest.  I learned many things.  the most important of which was to have a focus.  My focus became my journey with workplace abuse and the subsequent recovery which I was already mostly focussing on with side trips elsewhere for diversion.

Later, I went to a writers' conference and took a seminar by Sheila Gregoire who writes the blog "To Love, Honor and Vacuum" about blogging.  I gleaned quite a bit of useful information from this seminar.  She talked about the need to post regularly so your following would know when to expect a post form you.  As you notice, she also had a cute title.  She said she has learned that we should forego the cute titles and come up with something that would reflect our focus.  Notice that word focus again.  She said that she had not changed her title because she had quite a following and didn't want to confuse them.

I thought on these things.  And thought and thought and thought.

As I've noted before, I'm quite good at procrastination.  Maybe too good.

I wasn't ready to let go of the Ramblings ... yet.

*****

My focus has been and continues to be recovery.  However, recovery, at least in my life, goes forward, backward, backward, backward, forward, inside out and upside down depending on what is happening. 

It's simply not predictable.

Recently, I've had some good things happening, some good stories to share which are happening on my road to recovery.

I also feel ready to share the story of what happened in the workplace causing the damage and the damage itself.  

I've come far enough on the road to recovery that I'm able to think of that time without bitterness, without anger.  It happened.  It's over.  I'm at a point where I'm moving on.  I'm still not sure of the direction but whatever it is, I'm going there.

It's hard, almost impossible for the onlooker, the bystander, to understand what a person targeted for bullying is going through be they friend, relative, workmate or supervisor.  Because of that, it's not only extremely difficult for people to walk with people like me but for management to deal adequately and effectively with the situation.  This is the reason I feel compelled to tell my story.

*****

Yesterday, I made a change.

The blog has now changed from "The Ramblings of a Deranged Mind" to "On the Road to Recovery" because that is where I am.  That is what this blog is all about.

The narrative at this point in time is focussing on my story of what happened in the workplace, what caused the two back to back stress breakdowns, how the end happened and other things related to that period of time.

But there are some really neat, really positive things happening on my road to recovery which I want to share as well, so the narrative will be broken up at times with postings about current happenings.  Because both are relevant.  Both are necessary.  In order to understand the present, it is necessary to understand the past.

Which is probably why we study history in school.  So we understand what happened in the past and don't repeat it.

As of the beginning of the year, I'm posting three days a week:  Monday, Wednesday and Friday, which I think will be easier than posting five times a week and, hopefully, will allow this blog to be regular and not get sidetracked.

I've also changed the way the blog looks.  Refreshing.

I may change things further in the coming weeks, etc.  Like my picture and profile - if I ever figure out how to do that.

For now I'm filled with a sense of expectancy that something new, something better is around the corner.

I look forward to it.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: The First Stress Breakdown Continued from Part 1

When I was on the mission field teaching children English as a second language, I had a problem with students cheating on tests.  I used to say that my students didn't know every trick in the book; they wrote the book.  This is how I feel about the mobbing that was taking place.  These people didn't just know every trick in the book, they wrote the hang thing!  I could not protect myself, because I had no idea how people like this think or what they're capable of doing especially if they're in a group which for the purposes of this blog re: workplace bullying is called a mob.  It is well documented that people in a group will instigate each other on and will do these in this group that not one of them would do as an individual.

To say I was naive is an understatement.  I was naive.  I was clueless.  I was a lot of things.  But none of them worthy of the treatment I was undergoing.

*****

As prearranged during my early morning phone call with my supervisor, I started my shift later that day with a meeting with her.  Someone else was getting overtime to cover my shift during the meeting.  This was another dynamic which had been activated quite a while before: I didn't deserve overtime because "anyone could do my job".  This according to one of the mobbers.

In the interim I had written an account of the events of the night before and emailed it to my supervisor:  who was there (there was a witness from another area who apparently was on a friendly basis with the dispatcher), what happened, etc.

By the time I entered the building that afternoon, my supervisor had already bumped this matter up to HR even though she had read my account and verbally acknowledged to me that it really didn't appear to be an issue.  

Again, she wanted to know if I had been going to report this.  I said no, because it was (to me) a personal issue, not a work related one.  I had learned through an earlier experience with this same co-worker that international workplace protocol is that personal or is it interpersonal issues like that are to be solved by the two parties involved and are not to go to management.  There're just not that important.  That is, they're not work related.

Here I hop down a rabbit trail ... or pursue a rabbit trail ... or something ....

I think it's important to the narrative or you, the reader, won't understand why the before described situation would or could provoke a stress breakdown.  Otherwise nothing makes sense.

A digression, but I believe a necessary one.  The same coworker who had initiated this complaint had earlier in our mutual employment history been on a leave of absence.  We had worked together for several years with no problems.  In fact, I thought we had a good relationship with each other.  So what happened to change things?  When she returned, she had changed.  She wasn't the same person I had known and been friendly with.  Our employer was once again shifting things around and this co-worker was now coming in an hour after I left.  So we had no face to face communication. However, she did start sending emails. Things that really weren't important in the scheme of things.  Once I had stapled some paperwork together in the wrong order.  Once.  I replied back and copied our supervisor on that email so she would know what I had said to this co-worker in case it came back to haunt me.  After all, it was a very minor issue.  With a very easy resolution: unstaple the papers, put them in the "correct" order and re-staple them.  Other times, she would duplicate work I had already done which had the potential of confusing the person on the other end of the email chain.  The one responsible for correcting the issue.  Both of these behaviours were disturbing to me because they duplicated the actions of another former co-worker now working in another building in the complex but who had caused us both a lot of stress with the second behaviour. I this email, I reminded my co-worker what it had been like and that it was best if only one of us handled an issue to avoid confusion. I had copied our mutual supervisor on any emails between myself and my co-worker.

Ironically, the same person who didn't like me also despised this particular co-worker and was not shy about sharing her dislike and stories about this person.  I should have known better but I listened to her and believed her.  She was very convincing.  This had a lot to do with my perception of this person and her motives.

Also, in her culture, saving face is a big issue and apparently she felt that I was making her look bad by cc ing emails to our supervisor.

I didn't know that.  I didn't know that this one thing would take on a life of its own.  A life that wasn't going to stop.

For me, though, I was simply setting boundaries.  At this point, I had no idea that this co-worker had been offended.  She never told me.

I had decided though that it would be good to try to get some positive, non confrontational communication going.  Since we did not cross paths at that time because of the timing of our shifts, it was going to have to be via email.  But how to begin?  I had done this with others although not via email using such mutual interests as photography, dance, whatever seemed to fit.  And it had worked well.

There had been some Facebook postings on another co-worker's page re: weight loss.  I had just lost some much needed weight and was thrilled.  This particular co-worker posted on the thread expressing interest.    I was looking at this as a way of building up a relationship with the one coworker as we had a mutual interest in this topic.  As we never saw each other face to face, anything to try to build up relationship was going to have to be by email.  During my shift, I composed the email to this coworker.  It was conversational.  It was focussed on my own weight loss journey.  I was looking forward to a (positive) response from her.

I got a response all right. Ummm.  More of a reaction.  She had forwarded my email describing my personal information to two supervisors.  Ours and the daytime supervisor who was a male.  The daytime supervisor didn't think anything about it.  He thought it was a non issue.  Our supervisor on the other hand decided to make a major issues out of it.

I was summarily called into her office the shift after I sent the email, a Friday.  The day before a long anticipated vacation to Myrtle Beach.

The accusation:  I had used company property i.e. my work computer, using information I'd access outside the company property.

You gotta admit, these people were quite creative.

Our mutual supervisor kept saying that this coworker was angry.  I replied that I was angry too about being hauled into the office when I was trying to build up a relationship.  The supervisor didn't seem to care if I was angry.  The other person's feelings were the only things that mattered.

I've mentioned the of the week because it is important.  The coworker who lodged this complaint worked Sunday to Thursday.  I worked Monday to Friday.  The complaint was lodged and received on a Friday so this coworker was off for the next two days, while I was still in the workplace.  That shift was to be my last for a week, so the supervisor decided instead of waiting to talk to the complainant first decided to take the complaint at face value.  I felt I was being read the riot act.  Frankly, I didn't enjoy it.

I was angry.  I was also hurt.  I was confused.  I was crying.

A course on how to get along with difficult people was being offered.  It was to be held on the day I was to return from my vacation.  I asked the supervisor about attending it as I thought it would be beneficial to me.  (Notice, I'm the one trying to solve things here.  Not the supervisor.  Not the coworker).  She said that there were no funds available.  I indicated that I was willing to pay for the course myself if she would give me the time off.  She never gave me that permission; therefore, I never attended the course.

I told my supervisor that this co-worker and I needed to talk.  That meeting with her to discuss the matter was a non-negotiable.  This never happened. I was told a long time later that thhe co-worker was not re-cept-ive.

Now here I was, a year maybe two later with another complaint which I believed to be frivolous, same co-worker, same dynamic, different supervisor.  Same day of the week.  Same situation.  She's off for the weekend so they're not going to contact her to discuss it with her.  I'm still working, so I'm the one they deal with.  The only difference was that now HR was involved the minute a complaint against me was made.

*****

As I continued researching workplace bullying, trauma and PTSD both during and after the situation ended, I discovered that the events that create the most trauma, the most damage, are those which the person cannot predict or avoid.

For example, during this time, I was out driving when a car pulled out of a local plaza directly in front of me, perpendicular to me in the road with no distance to stop.  Normally I would have screamed and stomped on the brakes - and had a t-bone accident.  However, I remembered what hubby had told me regarding this type of situation.  Don't stomp on the brakes as you won't be able to maneuver the car.  Instead, I jerked the wheel to the left, went into the next lane which was a turn lane only to discover that another driver was approaching me in that lane.  I jerked the wheel hard again.  This time to the right.  I avoided both accidents.  My nerves were shot.  I was shaking.  I was angry.  But no one got hurt.  The driver at fault came back to tell me that was some kind of driving!  I've been able to drive past that area many times since then with no anxiety.  No trauma. No fear that someone is going to pull out directly in front of me. Why?  Because I'd been able to take control and avoid the situation.

In a bullying situation in the workplace, this is not possible.  The target is blindsided again and again.  Over and over.  Trauma ensues.  PTSD follows.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: The First Stress Breakdown Part 1

Fast forward approximately eight months from my last post.  Factor in that nothing in my situation changed for the positive in that intervening time. The strategy "the best defense is a good offense" i.e. cutting the opponent off at the pass, giving them no long to stand on became more and more pervasive.  I never knew where the next assault would come from (meaning which of my co-workers) or what would provoke it.  After all by the end there were four major bullies and a host of bystanders who had become involved.

This lack of predictability caused stress.  A lot of it.

I liken my experience with the build up of stress to the analogy of the frog in the pan of water which gradually gets hotter and hotter until the frog boils to death.  He could have jumped out at any time but the gradualness of the heat increase from tolerable to intolerable caused him to not realize he was in mortal danger.

And so it was with me.

As I said in the last post:  It doesn't have to be true; it simply has to be believable. 

They were very good at that and at conveying their point of view convincingly to others in the workplace.  The wagons not only kept circling but increasingly tightening the circle.

*****

What did my own "ground zero" look like?  What did it look like?  How did it happen?

It looked looked like any other day at the workplace.   Working in isolation even though there were several others in my small office.  Not only was I isolated from office chit chat but also from work-related communication that I needed in order to do my job.  Or to transmit to others in order for us to work together as a whole and do ours jobs - which is called teamwork.  There was a team but I was not included in it.

*****

In order to better set the stage, as I've mentioned throughout my narratives that our small(er) (though still sizeable fish) had been gobbled up by a much larger, multi million dollars conglomerate several years earlier.  Going back to the above related frog analogy, the take over company made changes slowly and gradually.  Eliminating this position.  Packaging out this employee.  Hiring their own personnel who suited their philosophy of business better.  Etc.

In this particular incident, the company had let go our long time, long haul carriers and had hired a new company.  Which they had every right to do.

But as with anything new, there are going to be some glitches.  The most pressing for me being paperwork.

*****

My shift had ended.  A new one was beginning.

As usual, the nighttime dispatcher was present and the person who was to relieve me was not.  Which was par for the course.  Therefore, there were only the two of us in the office, the night time dispatcher and myself.

To my surprise (ok astonishment), the dispatcher started a conversation with me about the paperwork for a particular set of loads.  It was something I really needed - and wanted - to know as no one would advise me although I had asked for updated information on any new procedures.  Remember I was the one creating the paperwork.  Apparently, I had been creating some paperwork unnecessarily since this new carrier was not stopping by our office for these particular loads but going directly to another facility in another city to pick up the loads and get the paperwork from there.

Since as I've mentioned in the prologue, communication was nil to nonexistent, I was like the proverbial stray dog eagerly wagging its tail in appreciation of the bone the master was offering.

I expressed appreciation for the information and that I was glad she had shared it with me as I had been wanting that information.  So far, so good.

Then, she abruptly switched and said that there had been an email sent to all of us about this.  I remembered an email but not that it gave us that particular nugget of information.  She then went on her computer to find the email and prove her point.  As I'd already logged off and shut down my computer and didn't feel inclined to re-log on as my shift had already ended, I migrated over to her work station to look over her shoulder which apparently upset her.  As I tried to focus my eyes on the email, she switched screens which was frustrating to me as my eyes do not focus quickly.  She started getting loud and angry saying I was crowding her.  It turns out that the email did not prove her point.  It was about something else entirely.

I was frustrated to.  I could not understand why the dispatcher initiated this conversation only to get irritated and put the brakes on.  This kind of interaction had occurred previously.

In the end, she was standing near the middle of our small office waving her arms.  I can't remember if she was saying any words or not and if so, what they were.

I do remember the arms waving.

I put on my outer wear (it being winter) and as I was leaving I said, "I'm sorry.  You hurt me.  I'm sorry.  Good bye."  And left.

As I left, I wondered why I had bothered to say "I'm sorry" not once but twice as I didn't feel that I had anything to be sorry for.  But hey! I'm Canadian and we're sorry for everything. (Canadian sense of humour here).

I didn't think anything more about it ...

... UNTIL ...

at 8:20 the next morning, my phone rang.  It was my supervisor.  Apparently, the dispatcher had sent her an email complaining about the occurrence the night before. Her complaint as I remember was that I had crowded her. I spent approximately an hour with my supervisor on the phone explaining things.

One thing the supervisor said that struck me as odd was "How do you think I feel when I get an email like this?"

I thought that was odd because I thought the question should rather be "How does Suzanne feel when this happens?"

Another question which genuinely puzzled me:  "Were you going to report this?"

Going back to "the best defence is a good offence", I'd been the recipient more than once of something happening with one or the other of these co-workers of which there were four in number which would then be reported to my supervisor.  Since cutting me off at the pass by reporting their version of events had become a dynamic in the workplace, I had started relaying to my supervisor things which I thought might come back to kick my in the posterior.  My motive was to protect myself from frivolous or twisted allegations.

Oops!

This strategy not only failed miserably to protect me but came back to kick me in the posterior!

*****

I've read various blogs which are like reading a book in it's entirety on screen in one sitting.  My attention span doesn't last that long.  No matter how compelling the story.  No matter how interesting.  No matter how much I want to read to the end, I can't.  My concentration simply doesn't last that long.  Neither do a lot of people's.  For that reason, I'm going to write this in instalments putting it in bite-sized pieces to chew on, to think on, to reread. 

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: The Beginning of the End For Me

I find myself at a crossroads.  There is a straight path forward telling my story from ground zero.  Or there are many, divergent rabbit trails which eventually lead to the same point.  What should I explore at this point?  A straight forward telling of the disastrous end to that bullying and workplace situation?  Or diverge into smaller stories that make up the whole lend more understanding to the situation I found myself in?  And to a degree, how I found myself in that situation?

Decisions.  Decisions.  Decisions.

*****

When the end came, it came suddenly.   One day I was working with no plans to leave; the next I was off work due to a stress breakdown.

Ok, that's not quite truthful.  The part about not having any plans to leave.  I didn't want to quit.  A) because I'm no quitter.  I had always up to that point found a way to solve and resolve things.  B) I was in my early 60s and finding a new job at that age is very difficult.  C) Money.  Loss of income.

Most people would just tell you to leave a bad workplace situation.  That it's not worth it to stay.  I think I was slowly getting to that point.  I was slowly getting to the point where I was trying to figure out what I now know is a "leaving strategy."  The problem was that I was trying to figure out a way to leave in which I would not incur further injury.  I figured that if I put in my notice, I would leave in silence.  That no one would say goodbye or ... God forbid ... give me a card or a party.  I would leave as I was working.  Unnoticed.  Sitting in the corner of the small office we were in which was where my cubicle had been located.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The bullying had been escalating for four years and was steadily getting worse.

The momentum had been gathering for a long time and had reached the point of unbearable months before.

In fact, things were so bad that my physician had referred me for a psychiatric consult in the hopes that I could get on a leave of absence from the workplace.  I'd been waiting for months and still had months more to wait.

That's the way it is here in Canada with socialized medicine.  We have good health care, but there are long waiting lines.

The bullies were not stupid.  Far from it.  They had learned had to use the old maxim "a good offence is the best defence" to maximum benefit.

It's funny had sayings you've heard all your life and never really thought much about, suddenly take on a new meaning and life of their own.

Those who targeted me seemed to know how to take these sayings and give them new life.

I was naive.  I could never anticipate their moves and was continually blindsided by them.

Every Friday night, they would get together and order supper.  I was not included. I tried to be included.  I even initiated the supper one night.  However, one of the bullies, the one behind the shared meals, refused to eat with us.  Everything I tried didn't work.  Hubby would bring me a hamburger, which I would eat alone.  If I ate it in the office, they were in the cafeteria sitting right in front of my work station.  The one time, I sat at the edge of the table they used, they ate in the office.  Originally, after I gave up, I might get myself a coffee from a vending machine and sit with someone I knew from production.  I saw the bullies watching every move I made.  I have no idea what they were saying amongst themselves, but it didn't seem friendly.  Other times, there was one other office type person working at that time in a difference office and I would wander over there and talk with him.  It helped make things bearable.  Until, one day, they walked into that office and spotted me talking with this co-worker.  The next Friday, he was invited to join with them.  The Friday night in question in this narrative, I'd been out to lunch with a friend and brought my leftovers with me.  I joined them at the empty seat at the end of the table and began eating.  I held up my sandwich and said, I'm sure glad I brought this with me.  I noticed some "interesting" glances.

Oops!

Finally, I just gave up.  That didn't mean that I was happy with the way things were.  Or that it didn't hurt to see them eat their pizza, Chinese, etc. right in front of me.  It did.

I've mentioned that this was done in front of me.  Our office had been sectioned off from the back of the cafeteria and we had windows in front of our work stations so that we could pass the paperwork through to the drivers who were taking our product to the customer.  These people usually sat at the table closest to our work station and on the side right in front of me.

I don't know if you can imagine what it's like to have a front row seat to a party that you are deliberately excluded from.

 And it is that which caused me to pull out my cell phone one day and take a picture from my work station of the Friday night usual.

I wasn't thinking so much of people but of a situation.  I was probably thinking that if someone saw what I was forced to endure every single week from the perspective of my work station that they might think differently about this situation.

These people which were everyone working in the office (not that many as we were an off shift, but still the entire crew) gathered together at the table right in front of my work station so I not only was excluded but had to watch the party to which I was never invited.

I wanted someone to see what I was going through. I wanted someone to realize that this was not appropriate behaviour.  I wanted someone to stand up for me.

I am a very visual person.  I remembered how my daughter had been in an accident where there was some doubt as to who was at fault, so she took out her cell phone and took pictures of the accident.  Where the other person's car was.  Etc.

I remembered that.  So I took out my cell phone and shot a picture from my work station at what I was forced to endure every Friday evening.

In my mind, I was taking a picture of an occurrence which happened on a regular basis much like my daughter did of her accident.

I took the picture.  The cell phone I had at that time made a loud noise.  The flash went off.  Talk about being blatant!  Oops!  Heads at the table in front of my work station jerked up.  Hoping to avoid whatever, I tried for nonchalant as I turned off my cell phone and put it away.

What I had intended to do with that picture.  I'll never really know.  Maybe just to show someone what I was forced to endure every single Friday night.  How hard it was.  I just don't know.

I actually forgot about the picture.  I had looked at the pictures on my phone and actually thought it wasn't there as my pictures were all thumbnails and it was hard to discern details.

Five days later, I was called into my supervisor's office and asked if I had taken a picture of my co-workers on Friday night.  I said "yes".  (Oh! I wish I had learned the fine art of prevarication!)

Apparently, each one of the three co-workers who were involved in this behaviour had wandered into my supervisor's office on the Monday and told her that I had invaded their privacy by taking their picture as I had not asked for their permission.

Remember what I said about The Best Defense Is A Good Offense.  In other words, but the opponent off at the pass.  Make sure they don't have a chance to get to the goal ... or HR ... or whatever.

As I've indicated, I was naive.  I was unable to protect myself from these people simply because I did not think the way they did.  I was unaware that people were capable of thinking and therefore doing like these people.

This was immediately bumped up to HR who bumped it up to corporate who decided that it was an invasion of privacy because I had no asked for their permission.  I have no idea what HR told corporate.

I do know that they next week, I was called into the supervisor's office and given a written reprimand.  I asked for the Union Representative, who was also the Union President, to be present as I (incorrectly as it turned out) assumed that the Union was there to protect the worker from unfair treatment by the company.

I was wrong.

It turns out that the Union Representative knew all about the allegation.  From the other side.  She did not represent me at that meeting with my supervisor.  She vehemently maintained that I had invaded their privacy.  The supervisor wanted to know why I had taken the picture when HR had already said that this behaviour for them was OK.

I pointed out that there was no evidence that I had taken a picture at all.  At that point, no one had seen it.  In fact, I didn't even know that it had taken on my cell phone as I hadn't uploaded anything to my computer in order to see things more clearly.

The supervisor's response: three separate people saw you take the picture; therefore, we have proof. (Not a verbatim quote but an adequate rendition of the response.)

I got the write up.

I think I could have handled that but what I found disturbing was the Union Representative's position and non representation.

That incident occurred eight months before the first stress breakdown.

Up until that point, that meeting with the supervisor and Union Representative in the supervisor's office, I was the healthiest emotionally that I had ever been in my life due to ongoing counselling and hard work on reinventing myself, recovery from the aftereffects of workplace abuse situation #1, which I still did not realize was workplace abuse.

This was the point at which, my downhill slide emotionally began which continued steadily for eight long months.

*****

An aside: I spent a good part of the time intervening between the two meetings with my supervisor researching photography and invasion of privacy.  Basically, asking or not asking permission has nothing to do with invasion of privacy.  Basically, invasion of privacy has nothing to do with asking permission.  It has to do with the expectation of privacy.  For example, if you are inside your your own house minding your own business, you have an expectation of privacy.  However, if you are on a beach playing volleyball, you are in a public area and don't have the same expectation of privacy.  I later discovered that the company we worked for only prohibits pictures taken in areas of cleanliness i.e. the locker rooms and the bathrooms.  Expectation of privacy simply doesn't exist in the cafeteria. 

Note: It doesn't have to be true.  It simply has to be believable.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: Ground Zero

The immediate aftermath of workplace abuse leaves the target/victim at their own emotional ground zero.  Everything around them is in rubble.  Destroyed.  Everything looks black and bleak from an emotional perspective.

I learned the hard way that there are stages post workplace abuse.

Heck!  I think I learned everything the hard way!

Having never gone through this before, recovery post workplace abuse - in fact the whole experience of workplace abuse - has been a learning experience.  One in which the learning curve goes straight up.  I've learned through trial and error.  I've learned through researching workplace bullying on the net.  I've learned through being open and sharing my experiences with others and having others share some of their experiences with me.  I've learned and grown through walking with an amazing therapist who is well versed in trauma and has gone through her own traumas.  Ironically, this woman has shared with me that she's learned more about trauma walking with me through my own experience!

As I start this post - and perhaps other related posts - please bear in mind that nothing is set in stone.  No two experiences are identical.  However, there are generalities.  Those I think are worth sharing with others who may be going through this themselves or have a friend/relative who is going through workplace abuse, post workplace abuse, PTSD and trauma.

First there was the immediate acute state.  With me, in workplace abuse situation #2, that was two back to back stress breakdowns.  The abuse had been increasingly escalating for four years.  At the end it was brutal walking into the work environment.  Rumours fuelled by gossip ran amok.  Spread and encouraged by one.  Believed by many.  At the end, no one on all three shifts would talk to me.  The virus had spread that far.

It didn't matter how much I used by analytical side and researched the matter of workplace bullying, what it is, how it manifests itself, etc.  It didn't matter how much I tried to resolve things. It didn't matter what I did or didn't do, all attempts to reconcile and rebuild good relationships were rebuffed and, therefore, failed.  I remember bringing in a coffee for one of the "cluster" of bullies in my office, on my shift.  She wouldn't even touch it.  It stayed on a shelf immediately by her work station the entire shift.  It takes two to solve a problem, and the other half wasn't willing.

All of my former abilities and work performance didn't matter.  All that mattered was this uncontrolled rampant gossip.

It was frustrating.

I felt voiceless, faceless, powerless.

The stress symptoms manifested themselves in depression, stuttering, lack of attention span, loss of concentration causing mistakes in the workplace which were then duly reported by the offenders i.e. bullies to management.

*****

I was going to go further in this post and describe the incident immediately preceding stress breakdown #1; however, I think I've gone far enough for one day.  For one post. 

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: Who I Am Revisited

The recent event of being dismissed from my volunteer position petting cats at the Humane Society due to a cat bite, which appears to be their unpardonable sin, has caused me to revisit once again the question that has been haunting me off and on since my first workplace abuse situation:  Who. Am. I.?

When a person has been bullied in the workplace, this becomes the first hurdle to overcome on the journey of recovery.  Because workplace bullying (and all bullying) attacks the target/victim at the very core of Who. They. Are.  Things become twisted.  What was good formerly, is no longer good.  The former positive becomes a negative. Who they are is no longer good enough.  What they do is no longer good enough.  Even being amazing at their job (workplace abuse situation #1) is no longer good enough.  The rules not only have changed but continue to change according to the whim of the bully and those who listen to him/her (workplace abuse situation #1).  Things become confusing rapidly for the target.

The onslaught is unrelenting.

And the target is left wondering if there is anything good about them at all.  Do they have any value?

After the bullying ends, the target who is determined to recover first has to rediscover Who. She. Is.  Her strengths.  Her values.  Her passions.  Her interests.

This is not a one-time thing as life goes on with various incidents occurring.  Some good.  Some bad.  Some neutral.

*****

A little aside, time out here.  When I first started this blog years ago, I did a three part series entitled Who Am I?  After workplace abuse situation #2, I wrote a poem looking at that very question.  It was a three part poem which explored what people saw, what the former co-workers thought and who I really am in God.

*****

The current situation is different in the fact that I do not exactly feel that I was bullied.  However, there were enough similarities in the blame statements and shut downs that it has caused me to wonder why, once again, I am not good enough.  Calming cats down, enticing them to come out for interaction, soothing them, petting them on a regular basis is not good enough.  Having other staff members see my interaction with these cats and calling me "the cat whisperer" is not good enough.  Being bitten is the issue.  Because it's not in the best interest of the cat.

*****

Another aside.  Being a left-brained person who deals heavily with logic, this makes no logical sense to me.  As a volunteer I've had to sign a waiver that I will not hold the shelter liable if I get bitten.  There are also signs on each adoption room door, that these cats may bite or scratch and that the volunteer, and even the public, goes in and handles the residents at their own risk.

*****

So, after six plus years of recovery post workplace abuse situation #2, what have I learned in the past six plus years about who I am?  What are my passions, interests, strengths and talents.  How can I use them in this situation?

I am passionate about people.  Not so much about animals.  Petting the cats was really a means to an end.  I needed that cat therapy in order to heal emotionally.  I loved with I did and got satisfaction out of holding and petting the cats and hearing them purr, or coaxing them out of their hiding places to let me pet them, or calming them down when frightened.  But they're not my passion.

I'm a very creative person.  I love to make things.  I love to feel the wool passing between my fingers as I knit or crochet an item.  I love to see things taking shape beneath my needles or hook.

I'm a very analytic person.  I often take a step or two or even three back to analyze the situation and try to make sense of it.

I'm a very intelligent person - even with the cognitive disabilities.  The mind is still there even though I'm not always able to find the right words, etc.

I'm compassionate, sensitive to others and a Christian who believes in the power of prayer.

Putting some of these things together:  I'm a compassionate, intelligent, praying person who uses her creative abilities to bless others.

So what do all these things have to do with my former volunteer position at the Humane Society.

Very little.

It's time to move on.

It's time to look for the "metal" roof, the new beginning.

It's time to scrap the old.   Consign it to the garbage can.

It's a new year.  A new beginning.  A re-invented me.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: New Friends

 Meet my new besties: Chewy, Toffee and Ms Petite.

Various friends have graciously opened their doors, hearts and homes to allow me to come in and socialize and be socialized by their pets. The first was Chewy, a ShiPoo who loves to cuddle up on the couch and be petted. I think this is his idea of dog heaven. 

The second is (Mr.) Toffee (the Mr. is not a part of his name), a Shitzu, who is very full of energy and in some ways scares me; however, (Mr.) Toffee showed me an interesting side of himself yesterday when he laid down quietly on his table and graciously allowed me to detangle and brush his hair (note: although he wasn't totally brushed, this picture shows his current state not the state he was in when I came into his house). He patiently endured my less than gentle ministrations and never once offered to bark, bite or growl - unless you count when I was sitting at the table eating some delicious homemade cranberry bread. Then he got downright menacing when I wasn't getting the memo and sharing with him. 

Then there is Ms Petite, a lilac point Siamese with one eye who lives with Toffee. She is the most aloof and least cuddly of my three new besties. With good reason since she's a Siamese after all. She is also the one with the softest fur. She has allowed me to do the "unthinkable" and pick up her even though she prefers to be petted on her own terms. She endures my petting her while holding her without even attempting to nip at me let alone bite me.

There is another not quite bestie yet (not pictured), also living in the same house with Toffee and Ms. Petite, a Tonkinese cat named Shimera.  She is less social than Toffee and Ms. Petite and I have yet to win her over.  She is my current challenge.

The last "bestie", also not pictured, is Monte who belongs to a young lady who entered into my life over four years ago to come and clean.  An older feline, pretty well set in his ways, he too allowed me to put him on my lap and interact with him.  He looked at me with such sad eyes as though to say that he understood my "sad" story about the Humane Society and felt it was very sad indeed.

AND ...

There are benefits that come with spending time with other people's furbabies: Monte's humans invited me and hubby over and treated us to a steak dinner while I petted their cat; Toffee, Ms. Petite and Shimera's human invited me over and treated me to fresh baked cranberry bread; Chewy's humans provide human socialization and unconditional acceptance along with coffee when I come to visit.  I feel truly relaxed in their home.

If this keeps up, I'm going to find myself thankful for the Humane Society for dismissing me from my volunteer work of petting kitties. Not only are these visits more fun but they provide something the Humane Society did not:  appreciation.

I believe I'm seeing the "metal roof" mentioned in an earlier post starting to reveal itself.

Life is good.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse - Thankfulness Revisited

This is another blog posting which started and then got hopelessly bogged down.

Why?

Because I have so many things to be thankful for that simply trying to put them in list form didn't work.

Thankfulness needs to be put into context in order to understand why I am truly thankful for what on the surface may appear to be fairly ordinary things.

So what did I do?  As I said in my last post about getting rid of old to make room for the new that is exactly what I did. I deleted all the old, stagnant posts so I could have a fresh start on this topic.

You wouldn't think that the topic of thankfulness would be hard to write about, but for me it has been.  Partially because thankfulness is not stagnant. It is always fluid. It's like the Grand River near my house.  Continually flowing.  Even under the current covering of ice and snow, there's a current - a strong one - flowing underneath.  Unseen but still there.

My current of thankfulness rans the gamut of being thankful for creature comforts like indoor plumbing and central heating which don't make much sense unless you know that in the context of indoor plumbing, I may have just returned from an interior canoe camping trip in which the "necessary" (called a thunder box) is located approximately 35 metres from the tent site location and is usually uphill both ways) or in the case of central heating you understand that we're experiencing extremely cold weather here.

Thankfulness for me changes constantly depending on my circumstances; what's happening in my life at the moment.

When the cork came out of the bottle that long ago Thanksgiving and thankfulness began to flow, I mentioned one by one the people at the table who I was very thankful for.  They included a daughter, son-in-law, grandchildren, my daughter's in-laws, etc.  Each one had in one way or another stuck with me during a very difficult period in my life.  Some in one way; some in another.  To put it bluntly, each one knew me well - and loved me anyway.  They had chosen to stay in my life.

That is one thing I am always thankful for: those who know me well and love me anyway.  Those who have chosen to stay in my life.  Those who affirm and encourage me.

Some have had to leave the circle not in malice or ill will but because they're lives have changed: illness, pursuing other interests, etc. .... Yet each one holds a treasured place in my heart.

*****

This isn't where I intended this post to go when I sat down, deleted the previous writing and started it again.  Yet this is extremely fitting.  Just as bullying/workplace abuse begins with people; people who use their tongues/resources/energy in negative ways which psychologically injure their target;  recovery begins with people as well; people who reach out in one way or another and use their time/energy/resources to encourage and restore the affected person.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: Out With the Old

Sometimes you just have to scrap things and start over. 

A fresh beginning.  Which is what is happening as I restart this blog on my journey towards recovery post Workplace Abuse.

I really didn't mean to take such a long sabbatical from blogging.  I really didn't.

It just kind of happened.

I would try to restart it time after time, but would get stalled.  Stuck.  Big time stuck.  Like in mucky mud which sticks around the ankles and doesn't allow forward movement.

Over and over and over again.

I had quite a few drafts which I wanted to finish. So I would pull one up, read it, and try to go somewhere fresh from the old draft.

It wasn't happening.

They really weren't bad posts.  They included such topics as trust post workplace abuse.  Good topics.  Worthy of exploring further.

But in each one I had gotten bogged down and couldn't seem to find the words, creativity or energy to finish.

That was my cork firmly stuck in the bottle of my writing creativity regarding this blog.  Without removing that cork nothing was going to happen.

So what did I do?

I deleted each and every one of those drafts.  They weren't going anywhere.  They were just hanging around holding me back.  So time to take out the old.  Start with something new.  Something fresh.  Something alive.

It's a fresh year.

A fresh start.

And I intend to take full advantage of it.

So there!

*****

Another part of my fresh start with this blog is posting three days a week, Monday, Wednesday and Friday, instead of the five I did previously.  When I did post regularly.

So look for fresh blog posts on these three days.

You are welcome to come anytime, on any time, read, reread.

Comments are welcome.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: The Place of Thankfulness

I am thankful for friends who are stepping up to fill the gap left by the loss of my volunteer work petting cats at the Humane Society.

*****

Years ago after Workplace Abuse Situation #1, someone came into my life to walk with me and encourage me as much as she could.

One thing she tried to encourage me to do was to be thankful.

At that point, I couldn't be thankful for anything.  I was sunk in depression and despair.  Anger.  Trauma.  PTSD.  These three were my constant companions.  There was no joy in my life.  No room for thankfulness.  What was I supposed to be thankful for?  That I was walked out of the office on a contract end and left outside the back door like yesterday's garbage?  That I wasn't allowed to say goodbye to those I'd worked with for more than two years?  That was the way I thought and felt at that time.

My friend persisted.  And persisted.  And persisted.  She refused to be daunted and discouraged.

She has a tradition of passing around an ear of dried corn after her Thanksgiving Day meal for each person seated around the table to say what they are thankful for.

I was one of the guests seated around the table that Thanksgiving.  When the ear of corn was passed around, I had nothing to say.  Nothing to be thankful for.

Except ....

I had just learned that the 2Up who had engineered my demise from the first workplace bullying situation had been fired.  She'd made a lot of changes in the workplace.  Most of which turned out to be disastrous.  I read later, much later, that sometimes supervisors will bully un underling to cause chaos in the department so that the superiors are focussed on the chaos not on what she's doing.  It seems to fit here.  She was in the process of making several changes in our office at the time of my demise, most of which turned out disastrously and for that she was eventually dismissed herself.

At that time at that table holding that ear of corn in my hand knowing that I was expected to come up with something to be thankful for, her firing was all I could think to be thankful for.

So that is what I said.

I could tell from my friend's face that that is not what she wanted to hear.  She didn't really approve.

BUT ...

It turned out that that was the cork firmly planted in the top of the bottle of thankfulness stopping the flow of thankfulness.  Once released, thankfulness began to flow ... and flow ... and flow.

Now years later, it's still flowing. Even in this current situation of being dismisssed from my volunteer assignment which was important to me and has had a lot to do with my current state of recovery, I have many things to be thankful for.  One of which is that I was able to pet the kitties in the first place and that it lasted as long as it did.

*****

I am thankful, very thankful, for a friend who never gave up.

Recovery post Workplace Abuse: Taking Time To Grieve the Losses

Losses are part of life.  We lose friends as we leave high school, college, move, get married, family passes on, etc.

Losses are also part of life during and after workplace abuse.  So far, I've lost two jobs, in 2005 and 2011 respectively, due to workplace abuse along with all the accompanying relationships - and pay checks - associated with them.  Being walked out the door (2005) after workplace abuse #1and leaving after a shift and not coming back due to a stress breakdown (2011) in the midst of workplace abuse situation #2 just doesn't lend itself to saying goodbye or keeping relationships. 

There's just too much garbage, not to mention stigma for people in these situations to feel comfortable with the bullied worker.  I was told after the 2005 incident that my former co-workers had actually been told that having anything to do with me was not in their best interests job wise.

Let's be realistic, if you have a choice between standing up for a beleaguered, bullied co-worker and supporting your family, it's a no brainer.  Unless you're a really special person.

I also lost two churches during that time period - and those relationships.  The first was after the first workplace bullying ended badly in 2005.  I did not know it was bullying.  I did not know I had PTSD and trauma.  I only knew that something was very wrong and I couldn't seem to get past it no matter what I tried.  My counsellor at that time was not helping in the healing.  In fact, I often felt like I needed a counselling session after the counselling session to deal with the counselling situation.  Eventually, I threw my Bible on the floor in the church library where I was volunteering.

I advise you not to do that.  The repercussions were nasty.

Churches/Pastors simply do not understand PTSD and trauma.  They are not equipped - or inclined - to deal with it even when it's starring them in the face.

My (now former) pastor landed on my doorstep mere hours after I threw that Bible.  Extremely angry.  Condemnation in abundance.  Compassion nil.  I never returned to that church.  I felt stigmatized.  That everyone knew I had thrown my Bible.  I felt I had a big BT (Bible Thrower) emblazoned over my head for everyone to see.

In neither of the above incidents did I take the time to grieve.  After the bad ending of the first workplace bullying incident, I was re-employed in three weeks - which was good in a way and bad in another way.

I still had all that garbage.  I still felt as though I were a bad person because that's what workplace bullying does.  It attacks you where you live.  At the very core of your self esteem.

As we know now, the new job while starting out well, changed as a big fish took over the company and ended up in four years of increasingly escalating bullying.  Again aimed at the very core of Who. I. Am.

I didn't take time to grieve the loss of my church either.  We took a couple of Sundays off and then started attending another another church.  We were there for seven years when things went south again after my mother died and I was still struggling with the after effects of workplace bullying #2 which had changed my life dramatically along with the death of my mother.

Churches simply do not understand PTSD and trauma.  If it was a physical, life threatening illness such as a car accident,  heart attack, whatever, the church would be there in spades.  Emotional?  They just don't get it.  It takes time spent with the person to get it and they don't want to spend the time needed to get it.

Sooooo ...

i have another loss in my life.  This time a volunteer position which meant a lot to me.  Which helped me a lot in my journey of recovery.

One big difference between the two workplace bullying situations and this one:  while it may not have been fair (to hold me responsible for a cat biting me), it was not personal.  It had nothing to do with my personality or what people thought of me. It was simply the way that the volunteer manager thinks.  The shelter is for the cats, not the volunteers.  The cat has to go on a mandatory 10 day quarantine which puts it out of circulation for those 10 days.

Another difference: 11 and counting years of recovery.

Initially every part of me wanted to protest.  To get them to right the wrong.  But I held back.

Every part of me wanted to look things up and find out what other shelters' policy for "after the bite" are.  But I held back.

I wanted to look into other volunteer positions especially in other shelters to fill the void.  But I held back.

Why?

Because this isn't the time for action.  This is the time for grieving the loss.  For taking the time to allow myself to feel.  Even if feeling is hard because grieving involves hurting feelings.

Yet, it's all part of recovery.

Sometimes getting up one more time than you feel down needs to be delayed.

Not forever.

Just long enough to grieve the loss.

Then, it will be time to get up again.

Recovery Post WorkPlace Abuse: the last few years expanding the horizons

Expanding the horizons.

My horizons.

I spent most, if not all, of 2015 seeking ways of safely poking my wee nose outside my door.

I wanted to do volunteer work of some sort.  But what?  In a post workplace seminar, I was advised to find a volunteer position that had nothing to do with what my previous work experience had been.  For me that meant nothing office related.

Hmmm ... what could I do?

What did I want to do?

I thought of many things but had to eliminate most due to what I call my "altered abilities" post workplace abuse.

Stamina.  Energy.  In very short supply.

Fatigue.  Not only in large supply but showing up unannounced and demanding attention i.e. naps.

And then there were the cognitive issues.  Also the balance issues.

Living with a brain that doesn't always work  is ... interesting.  To say the least.

I realized that I could only do things for short periods of time.

One volunteer position I was ideally suited for, working with homeless people, at a drop in centre required a set 4 hour shift in the afternoon with a 10 week commitment.  I wanted so badly to sign up BUT I realized that I was not at a point for that kind of ongoing commitment.  I could do one week.  But two in a row?  Or ten consecutively?  Probably not.

Eventually I found what was a really good fit for me: petting cats at the local Humane Society.  Our cat had died of old age and because of serious cat allergies within our extended family, we had decided she would be our last pet.  It was hard on me when she died until someone suggested that maybe I could see what the local Humane Society had to offer.

I started out on something called TLC (Tender Loving Care) for cats who were not very social and needed to be worked with.  I was given orientation and training in one one-on-one short session and put to work.  The person training me, another volunteer herself, had warned against getting bit.  It wasn't very long before I did get bit.  The next thing I knew I was transferred to another program called Play Therapy which, by the way, is not on their website re: volunteer positions.  I never saw a job description for it.  Or had any training on it.

Even though I felt I'd been demoted, I loved it.  These cats, any cat in the adoption area who was not designated TLC, was fair game.  Oh, how they lapped up the attention.  Some would lie in my lap and purr.  Others needed coaxing.  Each time I interacted with these cats, was actually therapy for me so I started to call it my Cat Therapy day.  There is just something about petting these cats, my skin against their fur, the purring sounds soothing my soul.

At first, I would go in and avoid any interaction with human beings i.e. the staff.  I was so afraid of people after all that had happened in the workplace that people scared me.  To a degree they still do.

After a while, I began to come out of my shell and slowly, very slowly, began to interact with people.

Unlike my last job, volunteering at the Humane Society was all about the cats and their welfare.  It had nothing to do with personalities.  At least human personalities.

It was good.  Very good.  For me.

Then I got bitten not just a second time, but a third time.  Mind you these three bits were spread out over a 19 month period with the last two being a year (less a day) apart.

Unfortunately for me, the timing between bites was not a factor in the Volunteer Co-ordinataor's mindset.  It was the pattern.  I was let go from my volunteer situation which meant a lot to me.

Yet even in the midst of this very difficult situation, I can see positive pieces of recovery this past year.

This is not the end.

It is merely a new beginning.

A new beginning into what I have no idea.

But a new beginning nonetheless and I'm looking forward to seeing what is going to happen next.

Recovery Post Working Abuse: Grieving Loss; Anticipating Gain

I have an ap on my cell phone from YouVersion which gives me a verse of the day. Today's verse was from Isaiah 43:19: Behold I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth, shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness and river in the desert. (KJV)

It's probably normal to pick a verse like that at the beginning of a new year but for me it was meaningful. Because at the end of last year, I lost something very important to me: my volunteer position petting kitties at the Humane Society. Over the 19 months I petted felines of all sizes, shapes, personalities and colours, I began to come alive again. I began to feel peace again. I began to interact with people again. First on a small basis than increasingly larger. I looked forward to what I called my CatTherapy time.

Now it's abruptly gone. Because a "stupid" cat decided to chomp down on me. We'll never know why. But it did.

While I've spent the last couple of weeks grieving the loss, I've also realized that if God allowed this to happen i.e. the cat bite, then He has something new for me. Something better. This verse confirms it to me.

God is going to do a new thing in my life.

So there.

Recovery Post Workplace Abuse: What lies ahead

Continued from yesterday ...

Here's the story I recounted badly a few weeks ago about the woman minister and the metal roof. It turns out that I wrote down a lot of things during that period of my life (2005). So here's the story and how it fits for me ...

Our minister at the time read an article from Christianity Today (2000 I think) about a Sri Lankan woman who when asked how her church was doing replied "Great" During further conversation with this woman, it came out that some people opposed to Christianity in Sri Lanka had burned the church's thatched roof. When asked how she could say the church was doing great when the opposition had burned the church's roof, she replied, "If God let them burn the thatched roof, He must be going to give me a metal roof!"

My experience at the Humane Society petting kitties appears to have been my thatched roof. It was a good fit for me. A lot of recovery happened during my year and a half tenure petting kitties. It has been a huge blow to lose it.
...

Yet, I believe God has something better/different for me. I don't know what it is or where. I don't know whether it will be dropped in my lap or if I'll have to search for it.

I just know that it's there.

So I am dubbing the year 2018 as "the year of the metal roof."

Recovery Post Working Abuse: A short synopsis of 2017

Yesterday was the last day of 2017, the year I've dubbed the "year of the onslaught" as it began at the end of 2016 with a devastating situation in which a member of the extended family decided to tell me exactly what he thought of me as fact. Others became involved. A schism opened in the family which is still not healed with people believing things that are not necessarily true. Throughout the course of the year, other difficult things happened: flashbacks to other traumas caused by different scenarios, more verbal injuring onslaughts. It felt like I was continually striving to keep my head above water, to learn who I really am. 2017 is ending with a verbal onslaught when I was terminated from my volunteer job petting kitties at the Humane Society because I was bitten by one of their (feline) inhabitants. It turned out to be a brutal two against one situation and I've spent the last two weeks of 2017 regaining my balance, healing.

Yet ...

... I turned the corner at midnight and entered a new year; a new phase of my long, ongoing and sometimes difficult journey into recovery.

There is hope.