When All Was Said and Done ...

I may have been destroyed emotionally.

I may have been down for the count, licking my wounds.

I may have experienced debilitating symptoms.

I may have been a lot of things.

I may have been fearful

BUT ...

When all is said and done ...

I. Was. Alive.

These people had tried their best, but they had failed at what I now realize was their intended purpose whether they realized it or not.  They had failed to destroy me.

I. Was. (and still am) Alive.

I am healing.  Slowly to be sure.  With lots of unexpected twists and turns on what has turned out to be an uncharted journey.

BUT ...

I. Am. Alive.

AND ...

I. Am Healing

At this point, that's all that needs to be said in this post.

I Survived Workplace Bullying … And Lived to Tell the Tale

Barely.

I sat at a table in a local donut shop signing away all my legal rights.  A high-ranking union official watching me dispassionately, while tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.  Totally distraught after reading a document presented to me as a complaint against me by my former colleagues, which began with the words: “ We the undersigned…. “    It went on to say that they had a right to a stress free workplace and that I was the cause of all the stress.  After that statement, there was broad based, unsubstantiated allegations. The next to last paragraph stated that they were afraid of me (Bill 168). The last sentence (piously) asked HR to resolve the problem.  It was signed by everyone in our small department on all three shifts. except one brave person.

Thus terminating six years of employment.  A job I was good at.  A job I had enjoyed.  A job I had intended to stay with until the magic age of 65 – which was only a few years distant. 

How had it come to this?   All I wanted was for the continuing and escalating abuse to stop.  All I wanted was for the company to institute policies regarding complaints i.e. what was work-related and what was not.  What was important and what was trivial.  What should involve management and what should not.

All I wanted was to be able to go to work, do my job and, at the end of the day, go home satisfied that I’d done a good job.

I wanted to be valued and respected – once again.  I had been.  Once.  But those days were gone – long gone.  I didn’t know where they had gone or, more importantly, why.

Most of all, I wanted to be “safe” in my work environment.

Yet, anything I did was turned against me time and time.  Each time my co-workers gaining more control.  And I losing more.

This is "the end" of this part of my story.  The active phase of workplace abuse which apparently continued unabated after I left the workplace on leave after my second back to back stress breakdown.

I had been off approximately five weeks or so this time which means that except for those seven disastrous shifts when I tried to return unsuccessfully in the workplace,  I had been gone for almost two months.

At some point, the local Union VP started calling me.  I kept trying to explain to him about workplace bullying.  At one point, he said he couldn't see me returning to the workplace.  Unwisely I told him that I was not coming back.

He never once told me that the grievance I'd filed before the second breakdown was alive and well.

He never once told me really why he was calling.

Since he was not the same person as the Union Rep who was backing the bullies, I thought there was some hope.

I overlooked the detail that this rep was closely related to the other rep.

Oops!

Close to the end of my second leave of absence, he called and wanted to know what I was doing that morning.  I was going to the chiropractor because I was experiencing terrific back pain and couldn't drive.  So he offered to drive me there.

I should have been suspicious.

Red flags should have been flying around all over the place.

I. Was. Naive.

Returning from the chiropractor, he bypassed the turn to my house.  I said so.  He replied that we were going for coffee.

Again, I should have seen huge red flags waving briskly in a high wind - and didn't.

We sat down with our coffees, me naively still explaining about workplace bullying when he paused and said that the coworkers had filed a complaint against me.  He showed me the complaint then he presented a document for me to sign resigning from the workplace in exchange for an exit package. I was told that if I did not sign, I would be forced to return to work when my leave expired.

I looked at those signatures, especially the last one which was someone I thought I worked well with and was on good terms with, and was devastated.

No HR person was there; however, the Union Rep had someone from HR on speed dial.  I was not even aware when I entered the Union Rep's car that I was going to a meeting and would be coerced into signing a legally binding agreement.

I was still on leave at the time.  My GAF was still in the 60s.  Was I even legally competent to be signing this kind of agreement.

I never entered the workplace again after I left work after the shift where the trainee was intent on running to management over my training.

Ironically, her signature was missing from the "complaint".

The "resolution" was based on the fact that I had a grievance outstanding and these people's "complaint".

I signed.  I thought I knew what I was doing.  However, in hindsight I realize that there were a lot of things I did not understand.  I did not fully understand my signature on this document meant that as far as the company and the Union were concerned, it was over.  It was a fait accompli.

I don't even know if having me sign this kind of agreement outside the office while still on leave is even legal.

It was over.  The end of my working life.

Yet ...

In a very real way, it was also a beginning.

The real part of the story.

The part of recovery.

Observations? ... Or "per CEPT shuns"?

I'm at a place where I'm having difficulty writing this.  Not because it brings up a backlash of emotions and flashbacks, but because it relies on memory.  Memory of things that occurred in the past in the workplace but still have a significant place in my story both of what happened in the workplace and struggles I've had during the process of recovery afterwards.

I want to make this as truthful and accurate as possible.

I also want to make it understandable to the reader.  After all, as I've mentioned before, workplace bullying is not vague, it's complicated.  Very complicated.  The more people get involved, the more complicated it gets.

I don't want to be accused of using my imagination as did happen once in the workplace.

I don't want people to shrug and say "I don't know.  I wasn't there" as many people have done.

I want people to realize that even though they were not there, that these things did happen and to take what I'm saying as having truth in it.

Until or unless proven otherwise.

This post is about the power of observation.  Specifically my observation of the world around me.  Of the dynamics in the workplace and how I perceive the world around me based on what I hear and observe.

Observations which became translated by the other side as "as SUMP shuns" and "per CEPT shuns".

*****

Words such as assumptions, perceptions were thrown at me in the workplace consistently.  Mostly by a woman who had been our former supervisor.  Ours as in she was supervising all of us on my shift.

She had joined our ranks during the time of transition from the takeover by the multi million dollar conglomerate for her first ever supervisory position.  Although she had initially been friendly with me and recognized my worth in the office and had even verbalized that I knew my job well and was able to articulate it well to others - as in training others, things began to deteriorate as she became friends with all of the other co-workers.  The ones who became the core of the mob.  As she became friends with them, she joined their ranks.

When I say she became close personal friends with A, B, and C thus becoming D, it's not based on conjecture.  It's based on observing her come into our office and chit chat with the others, while ignoring me.  It's based on watching her come into the office on Friday evenings when she was working and joining the others in the meal I was not included in and helping them carry the containers into our building.  It's based on watching her on weeks when due to family issues, she would be working our shift with us, she would come in and spend the remainder of her shift with us when the other management staff had gone home for the day.  The stress of those weeks when she joined the others in our small office were brutal for me.

She was the one who would accuse me of using perceptions and assumptions any time I said anything; however, she would not pronounce the words assumptions and perceptions in what is to me a normal way, but would accentuate the middle syllables and enunciate the "t's" crisply so that the words became  "as SUMPT shuns" and "per CEPT shuns" with what was to me a derogatory inflection and meaning.

It felt like these two things were very, very wrong and that I alone was guilty of having perceptions and assumptions.

However, and here is where those dratted rabbit trails come in, so I have to pick the most relevant one to pursue in this post, I've learned over the last seven years that we all have assumptions and perceptions.  Some are right; some are wrong.

I've also learned that our perceptions have to do with how we perceive life around us.  So that when this supervisor proclaimed that whatever I said was a "per CEPT shun", she was basically declaring that the way I perceive life is intrinsically wrong.

If it's based on observation, is it a perception? Or is it based on observable fact?

I was not picking assumptions and perceptions out of thin office air, but I was forming them based on observation.  Something that I have been doing most of my life.  As an introvert, I became an observer watching life on the sidelines as I grew up.

In my adult life after I became more extroverted (I think I'm something called an extroverted introvert), I would pull back into myself when overwhelmed or needing a quiet place and observe.

I observed the dynamics between my coworkers.  I listened to those conversations which were loud enough that I could not not listen to them. I observed mannerisms, speech patterns and intonations.

When I say I believe I became the office soap opera, it's based on A's behaviour many times in the office when she kept something going for periods of time.  For instance, in the prelude to a vacation, she would book the vacation - and in some cases unbook and rebook - in the office.  Loudly and publicly.  We knew all about her vacation preparations from inception to leaving.  It became our daily entertainment.  What's going to happen next in the saga of A's vacation?  Until the day of departure arrived and there was suddenly a void in the office.  After returning, she never spoke of her vacation experience again. We never got the epilogue.

When I say A was probably a drama queen, it was based on the experience of listening to her keep a bevy of coworkers entertained with an article from the newspaper detailing that one of our local farmers' markets was closing.  She had them all going.  Loudly.  For what seemed like a long time to me.  Especially when I'm sitting at the desk next to hers trying to get work done.  The problem?  She had the wrong market closing.  Eventually, I stepped in and spoke up.  She was defiant.  She was angry.  I showed her the sentence in the paper where it said which market was closing.  The crowd fell silent and dispersed.  But not before I observed their eyes and facial expressions.  I felt that being right was wrong.

When I say A probably fits into the category of a vicarious bully, it's based on the numerous times I observed her bad mouthing an employee.  Which she did a lot.  Based on observation, I don't think she liked a lot of people in the workplace.  I don't think she was a happy person.  I know she was good, very good, at her job, but from observation I came to the conclusion that in her world, there was room at the top for only one person: herself.

When I say that A changed office policy, it's based on her speech patterns and  her observed closeness with that one supervisor.  I began to realize that something was wrong when one day I after a technical failure which disrupted our work for hours and created a backlog, I offered to stay after to help out and was told by the supervisor that I didn't have the seniority to do so.  ?????  Other supervisors had actually applauded the fact that I was willing to work over and help out others.  However, this one was telling me that I was not only not to offer to work overtime, but was not allowed to because "anyone could do my job."  Those were the exact words I heard come from A's mouth.  From that day on, as long as D was our supervisor, I was never allowed to work overtime even when it was directly after my shift.  She would call in someone else, someone with less seniority in our office to come in at 3 a.m. to cover the latter half of the shift because coverage for the entire shift was not needed.  Another A sentiment I'd heard many times.

I didn't like what I was hearing, but was powerless to stop it.  Anything I said to D was sloughed off, minimized or downright dismissed in a derogatory manner.

Based on these things and others, I felt that A was the mouthpiece speaking into D's ear.

There were many other instances which I observed including one in which A's and B's shifts overlapped for one hour one night at a time when all the management personnel were gone for the day.  They spent that hour with their chairs pulled into the middle of our small office loudly badmouthing the company.  For one solid hour.  While both were being paid by our employer for that hour.  That's not an assumption or a perception.  That's fact based on observation.

These are in part the people and personalities I had the privilege of working with.

 This is only a short synopsis of behaviours and conversations, I observed in the workplace.

In this post I've only dealt with observable, verbal interactions.  Not everything that occurred had to do with the spoken word.  There were many non verbal interactions which I clued into while others in the workplace did not.   After observing this non recognition of non verbals, I began to realize that for whatever reason most of my coworkers did not recognize them and, therefore did not exist.  I had intended to go into those as well, but I think it's time to stop now and leave you to ponder this post and decide for yourself whether it was just "per CEPT shuns" and "as SUMP shuns" or whether there is an observable reason for what I say?

This difference will become important soon as the narrative continues.

Reaching Outside the Workplace

This is one of those times when I wish the artist gene in the family rather than the photographic gene had been passed on to me.

If it had been, I would draw a picture of a windowless brick wall - the outside wall of the plant.  Protruding through the brick wall my imagination places pairs of arms reaching out.  No faces.  No bodies.  Just arms reaching out.

This is how I see in my mind what was happening to me at that time, in that place.

The coworkers were reaching outside the walls of the workplace to continue their onslaught against me.

This time it was through cyberspace.

Through the social media of Facebook.

Something I did not expect.

Therefore, it blindsided me.

Again.

Even though I knew that it was not invasion of privacy because Facebook is public, I still felt violated.  It was something that I did not expect.

I was naive.

I internalized from this incident that it was OK for these people to do whatever in the workplace.  At the same time, it was definitely not OK for me to say anything.

And they had management backing them up every step of the way and believing every accusation they made.  Our supervisor didn't seem to realize that when these people sought out my profile on Facebook, a deliberate action on their part as not one of them was a Facebook friend, that it amounted to cyberstalking.  No one seemed to realize that if they saw themselves in that rather terse statement and complained about the posting, they were basically recognizing themselves in that post and admitting that they were bullying me.

Everything was stacked in their favour.

Maybe I should have been aware that something like this might occur.  After all, the best defence is a good offence and these people had shown quite clearly how good they were at going on the offensive.

But why should they bother?  Why should it be that important to them?  After all, I was totally down for the count and in the process of deciding that going back to this toxic workplace was not in my best interest.

Too bad, I didn't share this with anyone at that point.

Going back to why those remaining in the workplace might want to go on the offensive while I'm down for the count and away from the workplace,  somewhere in those seven last shifts between breakdowns, I had done something that they would not like.

I had exercised my right in the binding union contract to file a grievance against E, the coworker who had run to management causing the first breakdown.  I wanted to make it for safety but the union representative said that I could not.  I could only use grounds in the binding union contract. (I discovered later when reading the binding union agreement cover to cover that she was wrong.)

How would these people know that I had filed a grievance?  These things are supposed to be confidential.  At least I thought they were.  That question troubled my mind for a very long time but then recently years after all had been said and done I vaguely remembered one coworker whom I label A for reasons yet to be explained standing behind us in the cafeteria as the union rep and I talked about and filed the grievance.  I thought she was waiting to speak to the union rep so I said nothing.  When we were done, I turned to A and said "You're turn."  Instead of talking to the union representative, she turned away and went back into the office.  The union rep never seemed to notice A's presence.

I was naive in the extreme.  It didn't occur to me until years later that A was listening in to a private conversation which was being held in a very public place, a place A had every right to be.

According to the binding union agreement, there are three stages to a grievance.  The first one is a general meeting in which the person, management and the union are all together which I never got to as I had breakdown number two before it could happen.  It was scheduled and I was asked if I wanted to proceed with it by my supervisor.  I declined saying I was in no condition for this meeting and reminding the supervisor that I was off on leave and asked her to respect that.  I thought in declining the meeting that I was dropping the grievance entirely.

As far as I was concerned, I was not going to pursue the grievance.  It was over.  I had no intention of going back to the workplace.  They had won.  I had lost.  I hadn't quit yet.  I hadn't told anyone as my focus at that time was on recovering.  I wasn't at that point yet.  I was barely functioning at that point.  Definitely not at a point where I could make decisions.

I knew that if I did attempt to go back, I would not survive.

I'd spent too much time (and money) in pursuing recovery that I had no intention of putting myself in a position where committing suicidal was inevitable.  I was simply too fragile.

*****

If this were the end, it would still be pretty bleak.  Unfortunately, it's not the end of my story of workplace abuse.  While I'm at home trying to recover, trying to survive, the coworkers were busy at the workplace binding together, making more accusations this time in writing which I was not to find about about for more than a month.

When Bullying Leaves the Workplace ... or the school ... or whatever

As I've said in other posts, I've learned a lot about workplace bullying aka abuse both during my walk through the phenomena  in the workplace and since my working life abruptly ended through talking to others, through reading, and through on-line searches.

One thing I had read in my research early on while the abuse was ongoing was that there is a certain type of personality that will not stop their assault on the person they've chosen to target even when they've already won and it's in their best interest to stop.

That is what today's post is about.

Laying a bit of groundwork, hubby shared with me a program online detailing a school in Mentor, Ohio where there were four suicides in a relatively short period of time.  The most poignant part of the program comes from a sister ofone of the victims who told the interviewer how the girls who had bullied her sister to the point of suicide came to the funeral home and laughed at her sister as she lay in her casket causing tremendous emotional stress to her already grieving and devastated family.

It wasn't enough for these girls to win.  It apparently wasn't even enough that their target had committed suicide.  They still felt compelled to bully her dead body and by doing that, her family.

At the point at which I watched the video with hubby, I was struggling through the aftermath of my working life.  Dealing with a multitude of unexpected physical after effects which had completely changed my life as I knew it.

I was struggling with what happens when winning isn't enough for the bullies.  Where they are not content to stay in the workplace ... or in the case of this young lady in Mentor, Ohio in the school.

To read an article about this tragedy, press on the link above.

*****

Along those same lines, I read an article in a Toronto newspaper decades ago where another high school student was being so badly bullied at her school that her parents actually moved to another area in what turned out to be a futile effort to get her away from this situation.  Unfortunately, those who were bullying her were unwilling to let go of her.  They apparently followed her to her new residence in the new neighbourhood.  I do not remember all the details, the specifics.  I do not remember if they threw eggs at the house, toilet papered the trees or made cat calls.  However, the fact that I remember the gist of the article tells me how much it impacted me.

These bullies were unwilling to let winning be enough.  They again left the school, left the neighbourhood to continue the harassment.

What would have made them happy?  Her death by suicide?

My guess is that nothing really makes these people happy.  Even winning.  They're just not happy by nature, I think.

*****

I couldn't understand it then.

I understand it now.

Because this is what happened to me.

*****

I mentioned at the end of my last post that more was not only to come but was already in progress.  I just didn't know about it yet.

I also mentioned that my supervisor had tried to phone me at home and hubby had refused to allow me to answer it.

In the brutal emotional aftermath of the confrontation with the trainee in the office,  I was more fragile than I've been in years.  Suicidal.  Barely hanging on.  I couldn't believe that the situation in the workplace had come to this.  I still couldn't comprehend the nature of the people I was dealing with or the lengths to which they would go to "win".  I needed help badly.

And I was very naive.

On my Facebook page I wrote the status:  "Bullies 100; Suzanne 0.  Off work again."

Brief and to the point.

I wanted my Facebook friends to know what I was going through and support me and pray for me.  I needed their support.  Their prayers.  Their compassion.  I needed to know that people still loved me and cared about me and valued me.

The problem is, one of the co-workers in my office, never identified, looked up my Facebook page.  Someone or someones, again never identified, then went to the supervisor and claimed that I had violated ethics issues by that brief status even though there was never any mention of names or my workplace anywhere in my Facebook profile.  Any those involved would know who they were.  The rest didn't really care about them, they cared about me.

That is what the Friday evening phone call from the work place had been about.  The one my husband had refused to allow me to answer.  For which I am eternally grateful as the outcome may well have been different if I had answered it, heard the accusation and then become trapped in a long conversation which I could never win.  I didn't need much to push me over the edge at that point.  I was that close to the edge.

Failing to reach me by phone, my supervisor resorted to email demanding that I delete my Facebook postings.  I had no clue what she was talking about so I asked.  In response, she showed me screen shots of the offending posts.

I felt violated.

I could not understand the mentality of people who would deliberately search me out on Facebook and then read into my status what they wanted it to be.

*****

Facebook is a public forum - unless the individual takes steps to make it private; therefore, what they did was not invasion of privacy.  I knew that.  Yet, I still felt violated.  Exposed.

I learned how to privatize my settings very quickly.

After I privatized my Facebook page, my supervisor commented on that.  It seemed like she was angry that I had closed off her (and their) spyhole into my world.

Apparently, I had become the office soap opera.  

Since I had removed myself from them by having a second stress related breakdown, beocming suicidal and taking time off work, they still found a way to keep things going.

A way to continue bullying outside of the workplace.

Coping Strategy: Life Through the Lens of a Camera

There are times in life when you simply have to rest and regroup.  Take care of yourself, and use whatever strategy, whatever coping mechanism works for you.

Hubby and I discovered a long time ago that what works for me is to go away, outside of the situation preferably in a place with water and/or mountains, put a camera in my hands, let me call the shots and take pictures to my heart's content.

Photography has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  My father, grandfather and two uncles all were amateur photographers.

The story is told of my dad wanting a certain camera badly.  This was probably in the early 50s.  He could not afford it.  He would have to give up something in order to save up for the camera.  In those days, apparently, he smoked.  So he decided to give up cigarettes in order to save money for this camera.  He put a picture of the camera in his pocket and each time he was tempted to smoke, he took it out and looked at it.  I don't remember him ever smoking but I do remember him with a camera.

Life looks different looking through the lens of a camera.  It's a place where I can detach from the current situation.  It gives me a long view.

A few years ago, we were travelling to the Toronto Zoo with daughter and grandsons when we were accidentally in a multi vehicle accident and ended up on the side of the road waiting, waiting, and waiting some more.  The first thing I did after calling 9-1-1 to report the accident was to grab my camera and take pictures.  It helped not only with the trauma and shock but also served to provide memories.  Good memories.  When I think back on that day, I don't remember the trauma so much as I remember the grandsons posing with firefighters who had gifted them with stuffed animals and firefighter hats. I remember the kindness of one of the tow truck operators who took care of us and ensured we were safe.  I remember finally making it to the Zoo hours later than anticipated and going in as many people were leaving due to rain.  I remember taking pictures of my grandsons and the excitement and wonder of seeing the Zoo through the eyes of pre-schoolers.

Another time, a year or so after workplace abuse #1, I threw my bible on the floor in the church library ... and lived to regret it.  Not only did I not know I had PTSD at that point but I also did not realize that what had happened in that workplace was indeed bullying.  No one around me did either.  I also didn't realize how this was affecting me.  I learned later that what caused the trauma is not a normal situation and that the victim is responding in what they think is normal during an abnormal event. It was a difficult time.  My pastor appeared without warning at my door like the wrath of God.  He was angry.  Very angry.  He came to condemn.  He did a good job of it.  By the time he left, I was thoroughly demolished.  Unable to function.

The next weekend my every-lovin' and long sufferin' hubby packed me and my camera up and took me to Parry Sound.  Hrom there we wandered to the Western Edge of Algonquin Provincial park.  My instructions?  It was all about me.  I was to call the shots.  When I wanted to stop and take a picture, we stopped.

I had never been that route from Parry Sound to Algonquin Park before.  It was late September and the fall foliage was at its peak.  Reds, oranges, golds.  The road we were on twisted this way and that.  At every turn, there was something new to see and photograph.

At the end of the day, I was feeling much more stable.  I was ready to go on again.  When I think of that trip, I think of the pictures.  They feel me with a sense of peace.  I don't remember the trauma.  I remember the beauty.  The stunning panoramas.

So it was this time after after the trainee had run to management because she didn't like the way I was training her.

Hubby packed me up and took me away, out of the situation, camera in hand to Niagara Falls.

We've been to Niagara Falls often on day trips many times, but this one was different.  We left after his work day ended and arrived at night.  We found a hotel near the Rainbow Bridge which is an area that we had not roamed around that much.

As I said earlier, looking at life through the lens of a camera is different.  More manageable.  Controllable.  Life in the workplace certainly wasn't either manageable or controllable.  It was totally out of my control.  So hubby took me away and put me in a situation where I was in control.

After checking into the motel, we took a walk in the darkness and I saw images that captivated me.  The Skywheel all lit up. The Maid of the Mist docked for the winter.  The American Falls across the river all lit up with boulders of ice beneath it.  Everything seemed new and fresh and exciting.

Yes, I was seriously depressed.  Yes, I was very fragile emotionally.  Yet for the moment, I felt safe with my camera around my neck and my hubby beside me.

The next morning, we continued our journey both by foot and by car.  We drove down the Niagara River Parkway.  We stopped at places we had never stopped before.  Each stop, each new experience was commemorated by another set of pictures.


As I'm writing this post, seeing these pictures, looking back at what was a horrible time in my life, I don't feel that horror, that trauma, that fear.  I feel hope and a sense of well being.

Hubby somehow knew instinctively what was good, what would help me survive in this situation, did it and stayed with me every inch of the way.

Later that day, we left.  We didn't know what was in store for me.  We didn't know that there was more to come. 

We did know that my supervisor had tried to call me at home before we had left for the Falls. Hubby had refused to let me answer that call.  It was worrisome especially as my understanding was that this leave was supposed to give me a reprieve, a separation from the workplace and the events in it.  Receiving phone calls at home from the workplace did not fit into my understanding of separation from the workplace.

But that is for another posting describing when bullying leaves the workplace.

For now, sit back and relax and enjoy the rest of the pictures.

Beck to Back Stress Breakdown #2

As you can see, there's a history, a negative one, with co-worker B.

Since co-worker B wanted this day shift position, you might ask why I didn't just withdraw from it  and let her have it.

Why indeed?

Because I valued my sanity and mental health? Because I knew her job ethic too well?

B's current job involved covering shifts when people were on vacation or sick.  Including the shift in question. Which was at the same desk as my normal job.  Right before my shift.

As I've indicated before, B didn't do anything she didn't strictly have to do (my perceptions, assumptions and opinion).  Meaning that when she covered the shift before mine, I would be left with things to do that could have and should have been done during the previous eight hours.

In addition, even though we were supposed to have communication during shift change I would be left totally blindsided time after time after time with the words "it's self explanatory".  I guess it was.  After I spent the better part of the first half hour of my shift going through every single piece of paper in all the cubbyholes.

Self explanatory?  It would have been far easier and taken far less time if she had simply told me what was what at the beginning of my shift.

I was frustrated.

I was angry.

And I was tired, very tired of continually doing her work, in effect covering for her.

That was why I had applied for this change in shift.

To get away from the constant stress.

*****

Coming back into the workplace after my four week leave, all I had to do to start the job on the coveted day shift position was to survive the next three weeks and train my replacement for two weeks.  After that, I would be free.  I hoped.

I never made it to the new position.

I lasted a grand total of seven shifts.

My downfall?  Training the trainee.

Have you ever tried to train someone who doesn't want to be trained?

I don't recommend it.  It's not possible.

If you recall, this trainee had been training with B who had long standing issues with me since when I was attempting to train her.

B was the only other person of all I had trained to refuse to allow me to train her.

That  didn't go very well either.

My new trainee had a very pleasant demeanour.  As the three days I attempted to train her wore on, I began to think of her as the character in the movie "Christmas With The  Kranks" in the scene where Mrs. Krank is trying to get a Honey Ham for her daughter's visit.  Time was short.  It's Christmas Eve.  The worker at the store informs her that there is only one left and tells her where it is.  And that is where this other very pleasant looking character comes in.  She overhears the conversation and as Mrs. Krank heads to the lone remaining Honey Ham, this woman matches her stride for stride pushing her cart.  When Mrs. Krank looks at her, she gives her a very pleasant smile.  When Mrs. Krank quickens her stride, this character does as well.  With a sweet smile.  It eventually becomes an out and out race with this character still with her pleasant smile grabbing the Honey Ham.

Like the pleasant looking character in this scene, my trainee was very adept at cutting me off at the pass.

Her favourite tactic?  Disputing my training methods and arguing about my instructions.

On the first day, with only two weeks to ensure she was proficient, I wanted to know what she knew so I could target my training to where it was best suited.  When I tried to ask her what she knew, she demurred and said I would find out.

?????

Okay, let's try something another tack.

I asked her what she would do in a given scenario.  Point by point.  She gave good answers.  And then she asked:  "Is this a quiz?"  I thought a moment and answered:  "Yes".

She indicated that she was not a child, this was not school and she didn't appreciate my giving her a quiz.

Anything I said in this context was taken negatively and misconstrued.

Eventually, I said that I didn't understand how this conversation had gotten to this point.  She dropped the matter.

At another point I tried to give her the benefit of some of the knowledge I'd acquired from hard experience during my tenure in this position, she bucked me and said 'I won't do it this way when the job is mine."  I got the feeling she hadn't heard a word of the reason I was giving her.

One of my supervisor's favourite words when dealing with me was "insubordination".  I had been accused of it many times.  Too bad that word didn't apply to others because that's the only way I can describe this woman's behaviour.

On the third day, we were working on something we hadn't done together yet and she made a notation on the paperwork regarding a seal # and I advised her that she didn't need to. This, to me, is part of the purpose of training: so that the trainee knows in what circumstance something needs to be noted and when it doesn't.

We ended up in this long winded conversation where she is telling me that I should be proud of her that she's thinking of better ways to do things.

During training?????

Then she ran off to the other office where the managers have their offices.

Does this sound familiar?

I knew that no managers were present at this hour.

I felt fear.  The last thing I needed or wanted was for her to go the manager and for me to have another hour and a half long conversation about how the manager felt about getting emails about me.

I went after her.

We ended up about six feet apart at either end of a copier.  We were both loud.  She was angry.  I wasn't happy either.  She said that she was just going to ask our manager if she could write things on the paperwork.  I said that we would go together.  She said loudly.  "WE. WILL. NOT."  I replied in the same manner "WE. WILL."

She said, "I don't know how we got to this point" (in the conversation). 

The same words I had used two days prior during a "discussion" of my methodology.

After our shift ended, I went home.  I was upset.  I knew I couldn't go on like this any longer especially since no one in HR or management seemed inclined to recognize that this kind of behaviour was not appropriate and put a stop to it.  I called the psychiatrist's office the next day and made an emergency appointment.  When he saw me, he said "What can I do for you?"

Something broke inside me. I burst out:  "Kill me.  Kill me."

He reevaluated my GAF and gave me six more weeks off to get me away from these people to give me time to heal.

The Wall of Silence

Workplace bullying is not vague.  It's complicated.  When you get five people with five different personalities and five different motives it resembles five badly tangled balls of yarn.  How to separate the different fibres and colours without having to use scissors?  How to see how each person is contributing to  present situation.

Then there's what to include?  What to leave out?

What will help the story go forward?  What will get the story stuck irretrievably in the miry clay?

What about the the parts of each of the co-workers who formed the mob?  A, B, C, D, and E.  Do you need to know the parts each played in the story? Or simply that they were involved negatively in the events that were transpiring?

You already know about E - the one who liked to go to management with frivolous complaints.  But what about the others?  Especially "B" who I believe was a serial bully and who figures prominently in events which took place long before before this narrative begins?

What about the place of the VP of HR who thought he could stop the dynamic by holding a meeting with all the workers on both daytime shifts and in effect reading them the riot act?  He thought he could stop the bullying by bluntly saying it was wrong and telling them the repercussions the people who did certain actions could face.  He was wrong.  We were way past the point of no return by that time.


All of this to say that my narrative does not include every jot and tittle of what happened in the four years the workplace bullying was escalating.  Not to mislead anyone.  Or to cover up the truth.  But simply to make it easier to understand.

*****

When I entered the office that first day back, I was met not just with a wall of silence.  I was totally ignored by everyone in that small office.  No hellos.  No welcome backs.  Definitely no good to see you agains.  Nothing.  It was as though I didn't exist.

It felt weird.

Trying to get out of the situation, I had applied for and gotten a position, still in the same office, still at the same desk, but on a daytime shift to cover a maternity leave which would take me out of direct contact with all but one of the mob on my shift..  This had left my position open and a new person had been hired.  She began while I was on my leave and absence.  One of the people I've designated as a huge part of my saga, identified as B, was training her until I returned.

I had my doubts about this as (a) B only did what she had to do (b) B was one of the movers and shakers of the entire saga and (c) she had applied for the same day shift position and I had gotten it.

She had began her tenure in our office as my replacement while I was training for duties in another job, same office, which would augment my skills.  While I was training her, B went to I don't know how many people telling them that I was not patient with her because I sighed.  Yes, you read that right.  I sighed.

Another frivolous complaint.  One which people believed implicitly.  This is where she started to gain control over myself and the workplace.  Within the first days of her tenure in our office.

Because I sighed.

Just a few days after that incident, I gave her an instruction to perform a task.  She refused saying that I should do it.  I was furious but tried to hide it.  We went back into the office and sat in total silence because I knew if I said anything, it was going to be very angry and very confrontative.  So I left the office and took a walk to cool off.  I came back in, sat down ready to discuss things. She immediately got up and went out.  Thinking she had gone to the wash room, I waited for her to return.  When she didn't I went looking for her.  The wash room was empty.  I went into the area where the managers/supervisors had their offices.  Just as I came in she was leaving a supervisor's office saying "thank you."  This didn't look good to me so I confronted the supervisor.  It did turn out that she'd been complaining to him about me.  It also turned out that he gave her the rest of the shift off because she was "upset".

Again, she got the upper hand.

By that time, I was walking on egg shells around her as I tried to train her.

Ever tried to train someone who refuses to allow you to train her?

That was co-worker B.

This behaviour continued throughout the next four years with her winning more and more control and sympathy and support from our coworkers and me losing.

Dare I sigh now?

As I've said, I had concerns about B being in close proximity with my soon to be replacement.  Not just because of the history but because she had wanted the same temporary maternity relief job that I had gotten.

I didn't trust her to keep her opinions about me to herself.  I didn't trust the others either.

This lays the foundation for the rest of the story about my second back to back stress breakdown.

******

Many years ago I was in a university program which required me to attend a sensitivity group with other students.  The dynamics became skewed, and I removed myself from the group.  A friend was taking an alternate course on sensitivity groups with the same professor.  She related this story to me. When he was in a group like this in an outside location, he and the others had totally trashed the place.  Something he would never have done on his own.  

The power of the group.  

This is what mobbing does.  People do things in the group they would never do individually.  

It is my belief the trainee became part of the group during the time she was with them.

*****

I had hoped that B would keep her opinions about me to herself.

Apparently she did not.

My first clue that something was drastically wrong in the office was when no one acknowledged my return into the office environment.   No one introduced me to the trainee or the trainee to me.

This not only seemed odd but gave me a sense of foreboding as in a "normal" workplace situation (if there is such a thing as normal), when someone unknown to the new person enters, especially the one who is to take over her training, it is simply normal to introduce people.  At least that's been my experience.

I felt that neglecting to introduce us was an indication that things weren't right.  That something behind the scenes was going on.

That this omission alone was going to tell the trainee that I was not respected in the workplace and, therefore, not to respect me.

My second indication that things were not good was when I took over my position at the desk and discovered no pens.  Both B and the trainee had had pens in their hands when I walked in.  Where were they?  We used to leave them on the keyboard.  I looked all over for pens and found none.  None in the drawer we kept things in our office.  None in the resupply drawer in the outer office.  Finally, someone in the other office asked me what I was looking for and gave me a pen from her own cubicle.

This might not sound earthshaking in and of itself; however, one of the duties of this day shift position was to resupply the two offices in our building.  Apparently, that had not been done, the month I was gone and B was filling in on day shift.

My appointment with this "new" psychiatrist was the next day and I took it off.  Both  my medical doctor and myself were hoping that he would grant me more time off as both of us knew I was not ready to return to this toxic environment.

This "new" psychiatrist turned out to be the one I'd already seen.  He was just opening up a private practice in addition to his role in the mental health clinic.

He did not give me any more time off.

So I had to return.

Ironically, he did not give supply a letter to my employer saying that I was ready to return to work.

These letters are a necessary requirement when people are off on leave for any reason whether it be mental health or bunions.

That omission worked in my favour at least in the short term as my saga progressed.

Returning to H E double hockey sticks

After four blessed weeks off work, I returned. Now willingly but I felt I had no other option as the Vice President of HR had never replied to the email in which I stated that I was not safe in the workplace due to frivolous complaints.  I also said that I would take a week off unpaid to give him time to sort out this situation and put a plan in action to ensure my safety in the workplace.  I further stated that if this were not to happen, the last day I had worked prior to the email would be my last day.  In effect, I gave my notice.  Furthermore, I requested that if my request was not met and I were to be forced to leave that he take in effect my age for a package.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, The Saga Continues, apparently this Vice President had not read my email.  Nor had my office received the voice mail left on the office manager's phone that I was not coming in.  I received a curt email from this Vice President that if I did not do everything correctly I would be disciplined.

I never heard from him again.

If there was any follow up on my safety complaint, I never heard about it.

In effect, he ignored the entire gist of the email: safety complaint and provisions for safety in the workplace and resignation.

I was left on my own to deal with things I simply did not know how to deal with or was prepared to deal with.

*****

I also had no followup visits with the psychiatrist I'd seen at the mental health clinic or with any mental health professional (except my counsellor who was, has been and is invaluable in my ongoing journey of recovery.  However, as she is a counsellor under the School of Social Work, she does not have the ability to formally diagnose a client or fill out forms.

How I wish that I had had someone to take me under their wings and give me guidance through this period.

You might ask why I didn't contact the Vice President of HR myself.  I now realize as I write this seven years later, that I could have.  Probably should have.  But I was running scared.

I was scared of my supervisor as well which is why I didn't leave a message on her voice mail telling her I wasn't coming in that first shift after the frivolous complaint and the breakdown.

In fact, I was scared of just about everyone in the workplace.  At this point, I had no idea who was friend or foe.  And I was afraid to ask.

Afraid not of the answer but that it would be taken as something else such as confrontation and I would be reported again or simply not answered.

H. Norman Wright in his book Helping Those Who Hurt (2003) (in a very simplified paraphrase): Victims of  trauma are reacting what they think is normal to an abnormal situation.

As the story continues, this dynamic is important to remember.

Believe it or not, I think that even as bad as things were that I still did not realize exactly how bad and how unresolvable they were.  Also, how far the "cancer" of workplace abuse and mobbing had spread.

*****

And so I went back.

*****

My medical doctor had found a psychiatrist who had just set up private practice in our area.  My first appointment with him was for the day following my return to the workplace.  Both my medical doctor and myself were hoping that he would diagnose me more appropriately and grand me more medical leave from the situation.

*****

I lasted a grand total of seven shifts.

From Breakdown to Diagnosis: Stumbling through bureaucracy

This part of the narrative is just as important as the previous postings, perhaps more. Because it continues the narrative telling more of my story of what happened within the workplace but at this point switches temporarily to the difficulty of getting appropriate help within the system.

For years I had heard people laughing about going on stress leave.  I've heard stories of people who were on stress leave for long periods of time.  I do not know how they were able to achieve that.  Stress is subjective and, therefore, getting a diagnosis that would have allowed me to be out of the workplace on paid leave proved very difficult in the long term.

This is the beginning of that part of my story.  The part that does not involve those in the workplace who were bullying me, but involves the system.  The walk through bureaucracy.

It also has the potential to be boring as there is not much action.  It is also not as easy to describe using emotion and descriptive words because this is the "clinical" or assessment phase.  The phase where I'm trying to get help within a flawed system and get a leave of absence from an incredibly stressful and harmful situation.

It also sets the stage for future events.  Therefore the groundwork has to be laid carefully block by block.

*****

Visiting the Crisis Clinic at the local emergency room was a good first step as it bumped me up on the waiting list for a pysche consult.  I'd been on a waiting list for a psychiatric consult for months in hopes of getting on a leave of absence since the accusation and write up for alleged violation of privacy.  At the time of the write up, I was at the healthiest I'd ever been emotionally.  Life was good.  I was learning who I was and was comfortable within my own skin for the first time in my life.  It showed.  People, even complete strangers, commented on it.  After that allegation, the subsequent write-up and the realization that the Union Representative seemed to be defending the complainants rather than me, I was confused.  After all, I was the one who had been investigated, why was she defending them?  To my mind, they didn't need defending.  I did.

 I saw a psychiatrist within the next few days of the ER visit who grudgingly granted me four weeks reprieve from the work situation.  I had been warned by the psychiatric nurse at the crisis clinic that some psychiatrists were not willing to fill out forms, as in the ones necessary for getting a leave of absence.  This doctor was one of those.  He did fill out the form granting me some relief from the relentless onslaught in the workplace, albeit under duress.

I was very disappointed in the visit.  In the past when I'd had an assessment with a psychiatrist for medication purposes, the doctor had spent at least an hour with me.  Sometimes more.

My expectations did not meet reality.

Things have apparently changed in the system since I'd had previous assessments to ensure I was on the right medication and/or make changes in the medication.  My assessment felt rushed.  I didn't time it; however, I doubt it was 30 minutes in length - or less.  My guess is that it was closer to 15-20 minutes.  In that short span of time, this doctor diagnosed me, a patient he'd never seen before, with bipolar and mixed personality disorders.  He prescribed two medications: one a sedative; the other probably an antidepressant.  I'm really not sure now what it was.  He did fill out the required form for a four week leave of absence which I've already said he did "under duress".  He did not feel it was his job to fill out forms.

I felt better ... and worse.

I was confused as to how I could be adequately diagnosed in such a short time.  But I really had no choice.  This psychiatrist was the only rope I had to hold onto at that time.  He did not arrange any follow ups.

Through a mental health program initiated by my visit to the ER, I began taking some ongoing classes on coping mechanisms etc.  These were for a max of four weeks.

****

The tool which the psychiatrist used for an assessment of my current level of functioning was a Global Assessment of Functioning(GAF),  which ...

... assigns a clinical judgment in numerical fashion to the individual’s overall functioning level. Impairments in psychological, social and occupational/school functioning are considered, but those related to physical or environmental limitations are not. The scale ranges from 0 (inadequate information) to 100 (superior functioning). Starting at either the top or the bottom of the scale, go up/down the list until the most accurate description of functioning for the individual is reached. Assess either the symptom severity or the level of functioning, whichever is the worse of the two. Check the category above and below to ensure the most accurate one has been chosen. Within that category there will be a range of 10. Choose the number that is most descriptive of the overall functioning of the individual. 

He rated me as functioning somewhere in the 60s which states in the percentile from 61 to 70 :

Some mild symptoms (e.g. depressed mood and mild insomnia) OR some difficulty in social, occupational, or school functioning (e.g., occasional truancy, or theft within the household), but generally functioning pretty well, has some meaningful interpersonal relationships.

I don't remember all that I was feeling and/or experiencing in the way of symptoms at that tine but I know I had symptoms of depression and suicidal ideation.  I was stuttering badly.   Along with that, there was probably anxiety.  I definitely by that time had trust issues.  I cannot remember how exactly I was functioning at that time, except to say that keeping my head afloat was hard.  I could still read recipes and cook and enjoy cooking. So some cognitive function was still there.  Communication with the stuttering (I've never been a stutterer) was definitely compromised.

To him these symptoms were mild.  To me, they weren't.

In an interview lasting less than 30 minutes, he had assessed my symptoms as mild.  My guess is that it was because I had (and still have) some meaningful interpersonal relationships.

One problem with any assessment is that the clinician is assessing the patient as they present at that particular time, date and place.

And therein lies the rub, I think I was presenting at a higher functioning level in the psychiatrist's office than I was in other places and at other times.

I've linked a copy of the GAF used in my assessment to this blog.  It is highly subjective, especially if the doctor in question is not really listening to the patient and/or trying to rush an assessment into an incredibly short time period.  To me, it relies heavily on the clinician's assumptions and perfections about the patient which in my case could be based on appearance: hair combed, dressed, bathed, etc.

I believe it was a flawed assessment which assigned me a higher functioning value than I was achieving during that time period and which had significant ramifications in the days and weeks to come.

I also believe that he misdiagnosed me and, therefore, prescribed medications that were not the best for my condition.


the diagnosis of bipolar and mixed personality disorder would have significant ramifications in the near future of this journey in accessing future leaves of absence.

People who knew me well - and loved me anyway - totally disagreed with the bipolar diagnosis.  On the one hand, I was definitely experiencing down symptoms i.s. depression, but where was the "bi" part of it?  The manic part? 

 All in all, it was not the most positive experience I've ever had.

*****

At this point in my journey, I'm attempting to fulfil the company's requirements for a leave of absence beginning with an assessment by a specialist in this case a psychiatrist. 

However, there were more requirements under the radar which I would need to fulfill in the future to be able to continue on a leave of absence.  Requirements that were not obvious to the naked eye.