The Importance of Milestones on the Journey of Recovery Post Workplace Abuse

From the beginning of my journey towards recovery post workplace abuse, I've used milestones to look back from and see how far I've come in the journey.  Similar to someone hiking up a mountain who looks back to see how high he's come so far.  The milestones have changed with the years as circumstances have changed, as the journey has taken unexpected twists and turns.

Lately, I've been using my birthdays as a milestone.  Where was I on the journey last year?  Where am I now?  What has changed - for the better ... or ... for the worse?

Looking back, we can see more clearly not only where we once were, but how far we have come in the journey.

Take last Saturday, for example.  It was a significant day for me both in my life journey and in my journey post workplace abuse.  My 65th birthday.  I was determined to make it a celebration - not just of life but of recovery.  The six people in this world who are the closest to me i.e. hubby, daughter, son-in-love and the three grands, came with me to celebrate.  They valued me enough to spend an entire day with me travelling to Toronto and from there to the CN Tower.  Up and back down.  With three kids.  And an hour wait in line.  With one person, besides me, not height friendly either.

It was a milestone for me on the journey of recovery in many ways.  I've mentioned that in what I now call Phase 1 of the recovery process (from workplace abuse situation #1 up to where the bullying in situation #2 became aggressive), I was working on many things:  relationship, fears, etc.  Specifically one of the fears that had paralyzed me prior was my dual fears of heights and elevators.

Last Saturday, I chose to celebrate my 65th birthday by continuing to conquer my fears.  I went to the CN Tower in Toronto.

Birds eye view of the CN Tower.  It's a long way up, folks.  On a glassed-in elevator.

It was also a day of firsts.  My first subway ride on the TTC.  The only other time I'd ridden a subway was in 1971 in Paris, France - which being more than 40 years ago, I don't think should count.

Union Station.  I'd only been in there once before to pick someone up on the VIA rail and had never seen this part of it.  Let me tell you, folks, Union Station in Toronto is HUGE.  If I had not had my daughter and her family with me, I would probably still be there....  Lost somewhere in the hugeness and corridors of the building.

I'd never been on foot at street level before in Toronto.  Well, okay once, the same time we picked someone up at Union Station.  We walked from the parking lot to Union Station and back again.  So I figure just like that long ago subway ride in France that that doesn't really count. 

I felt like a little kid in a candy store.  Only that candy store for me was all the incredible architecture, street scenes, statues, etc.  All the photo opportunities just waiting for me and my camera.

Since Union Station is only a few blocks from the CN Tower, the tower dominates the landscape.  It would be very hard to miss.

I was mesmerized by the scenes at foot level.  The tall, glass-fronted buildings.  The reflections in them.  The building going on.  And the green spaces.  For such a huge cosmopolitan city, the capital city of the province of Ontario, it has a lot of green spaces.  I could have stayed there for hours just walking around in that area.

Oddly enough, I didn't feel fear or anxiety looking up at the observation deck of the tower.  I felt commitment.  Purpose.  Exhilaration, as well.  I was a woman on a mission.

We had an hour long wait for the elevator.  And again, I didn't feel fear.  Not until we were next in line to get in the elevator ... and the doors ... opened.

Is it too late to get off?  My initial reaction as we started to up ... and up ... and up....  I confess I wanted the elevator to reverse and go back down.  I wanted OFF.  But by that time I was what they say committed.  Too late to back out now.

I started to feel much calmer as we rode up.  The elevator is so fast, it only takes about a minute.  The doors opened at the Observation Deck and I felt proud.  I had confronted my fears ... and still alive to tell - and photograph - it.

As I looked down, I felt like Super Woman - without the cape.

The next challenge was the infamous glass floor.  I was determined to experience this day, this milestone to the fullest.

I was determined to be able to say:  I came, I saw, I conquered.

I must say though that looking at the glass floor up close and personal was an anxiety producing sight.  UNTIL a kind man who also had height problems told me to look up not down at first when getting on.  So I looked up, holding someone's hand. I think it was one of the people I came with and not a strange.  At least, I hope so.

It worked.  I was on the floor.  Looking down.

The man was right.  Once on the floor, it wasn't nearly as bad.  It was only the thought of going on it that was so frightening.  So true in life sometimes, eh?

A foot picture just to prove I really did do it.

Going down was anticlimactic.  My biggest emotion was that I was sorry to see the experience end and the day wind down.

Approaching the Skywalk which would take us back to Union Station.

Another first, the skywalk which is simply a corridor from one place to another.  Not scary at all.  In fact a lot of fun as there were all these windows I could look through - and take pictures through.  I was not seeing a piece of Toronto from a slightly elevated point of view.  A different perspective.

Even though we'd just been down there a few hours prior, everything looked different from this view, this perspective.

Of course, there are views from this pathway that you really don't see at street level.  You cannot see from street level.  Like the tracks below for the GO trains, etc., leading out of Union Station.

And then there's the glass-domed roof as we leave the Skyway and start heading into Union Station itself.

The trip ended as it had begun with a subway ride back to where we had left our car.

Tired but happy.  Another milestone on the journey reached.  Another piece of recovery achieved.

Would these things have happened if I had not been forced on the journey of workplace abuse and recovery from?  Somehow, I doubt it.  I think my life would have gone on much as it was.

Working on the road to recovery is hard work.  I don't deny it. But it is good.  Very good.

Until tomorrow ....

Post Workplace Abuse: Life Goes On ... and on and on and on

As I've pointed out before in this blog, life doesn't stop because you're going through trauma.  Life goes on.  Hour by hour, day by day, week by week, month by month and year by year.  Deaths, birthdays, life changes, illnesses, etc.

Saturday, I experienced a significant milestone on my journey:  my 65th birthday.  I am officially a senior citizen now.

Significant events cause me to look back over the past year and realize what the most significant events in my life were.  What means the most to me now as opposed to a year ago, two years ago, etc.?

What means the most to me now is family ... and friends.  Those people who have walked with me closely in this journey.  Those people who have never given up on me.  Like my husband, my daughter, her husband, my grands.

Today's blog will be about my birthday in 2013 ... just because ....

The trailer their gear was stowed in

The children's song goes "the wheels of the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round.  The wheels on the bus go round and round all day long."

So did the wheels on the bicycles of a group of people of all ages and from all walks of life who rode from Sea to Sea last year raising funds for poverty and awareness of poverty.  They lived out of baskets (two each, I think) on this trailer for the summer.  They slept in tents and on floors mostly.  And they rode their bicycles six days a week through every kind of weather imaginable - except for snow.

They started in California last year, rode through deserts and very, very hot weather, so hot that the tour had to be suspended for a few days and the riders and their bikes driven to another point around the very hot weather.  On August 9th, 2013 (my birthday) they drove through our area stopping for the night within a few miles of our house.

I had wanted to drive my bike with adult training wheels to meet them ... but was not able to do that.  My body simply had not recovered enough strength to do that.  I had wanted to have someone drive me to the nearest interesection so I could wave at them as they rode by and possibly hand out goodies.  That didn't happen either.

What did happen, though, was that my daughter and grands came by and we went to their stopping place for the night and gave them a variety of chocolate bars.  We even got to meet some of the riders (the early birds, the go-getters).

A rider picking out his candy bar.

Ok, Cassie so what does this have to do with you and your birthday?  Nothing really.  Yet it had to do with my journey of recovery.  I loved to bike, but last year it became evident that I

Early birds got the responsiblity of throwing all the gear i.e. tents, sleeping bags, etc. out of the trailer.

This was significant to me because although I was, and am still, totally incapable of doing such an arduous undertaking, my heart was with these guys and I was following their adventures from the beginning of the ride to the end via their blogs.

An early bird setting up his tent.  As I recall this was quite a victory in this man's life as he had had to leave the tour earlier due to heart problems and had recovered significantly enough to rejoin the tour.  Cool, eh?

And this was just the start of my celebration last year.

We then went to a local fast food Mexican place in our area and bought take out Mexican food to enjoy at home.  While there, my daughter and grands explored the back yard.  Just prior to my birthday, we'd had several bad windstorms and the privacy fence between our yard and our neighbour's up close to the house had been blown down resulting in a pile of boards to be inspected by curious grands and daughter.

Also to be written on by one very mischievous daughter - with help from her daughter.

And then there was my garden.  The Rose of Sharon was in bloom (it's not this year as we had such a late spring).

Smiling at me in all their glory as if to say "Happy Birthday".  We're glad you've survived another year.

The black-eyed Susans which, in and of themselves almost make an outdoor, living bouquet blooming in profusion where they're planted.

But that wasn't the end of the day.  We decided on the spur of the moment to have a laid back, low key birthday party in the park bringing in food from a favourite take-off which specializes in Southern barbecue at its best.  Because frankly I wasn't up to anything else, so my family determined to make my day a celebration even with my various limitations.

It turns out that my birthday was a special day for other people as well.  Me and my camera.  I could not resist taking a picture of this bride and groom as they were having their wedding pictures taken in the park.

And, of course, there were the gardens in the park in full bloom.  Beautifully landscaped.  It seemed to me that day that they were there for my pleasure.  To soothe my battered soul.

Whatever....  I did enjoy them though.

And then the family started to show up.

Hubby, daughter, the grands, son-in-love,  and his parents.  All there just because they value me.  Just because they wanted to celebrate this special day with me.  Just because ....

I felt loved....

Bonus!  They even bought and brought an ice cream cake to the park to make the perfect ending of a good day.  How they kept it from melting is a well-kept secret.

Unfortunately, the party ended very early as the fatigue was in full force that summer and I became too tired to sit up.  I guess that when the birthday girl has to leave, the party's over.

But it was good while it lasted.

Very good.

*******

I chose to remember last year's birthday in this blog rather than the most recent one two days ago, because it was another milestone on my road to recovery.  The realization that life - and enjoyment of life - is not over just because a person is still in the process of recovery.  Life can still be good.  Full of challenges, yet still good.  Different - yet still good.

As I look back on this year a year ago, I realize what is most important to me at this stage in my recovery. 

My family.

Because they're the ones who are in it for the long haul.

May God bless them richly.

Until tomorrow ... where we'll see where the deranged mind rambles next.

Post Workplace Abuse: Reminiscing my 63th birthday in 2012

Today, I am reminiscing and reposting my blog from a year ago today.  It just seems appropriate to me.

Tomorrow, Saturday, a day on which I take a rest from blogging, is my birthday.  One of those significant ones.  Not with a "0" as in 30, 40, 50 or 60, but with a "5" attached - as in tomorrow I will be 65 and officially a senior citizen.

So today, I want to give you last year's thoughts on my birthday and how we celebrated it in 2012, the year prior. 

A lot of what I wrote in this posting a year ago is as true today, a year later, as it was when I posted it last year fresh off my fingertips.

*******

Today is my birthday.  I am 64 today, although I pride myself on not looking my age.  

Yet every year takes its toll on me whether good or bad.

As you know from reading this blog, the last few years have been lalapaloozas.  Yet, at the end of the day - or is it year? - I'm still here.  Still trucking - or is it toddling - on?

Having good days - and bad days.

Yet, the good days, the good times are what I try to focus on.

Take last year for example.

Over a thousand miles (if I wasn't, it sure felt like it) away from home on the Eastern Seaboard of the US in Salem, Massachusetts for the much anticipated wedding of my nephew.  Most well known for its (now infamous) witch trials of 1692.

A piece of U.S. history.  A thriving tourist town.

Usually we celebrate birthdays with a family barbecue in our backyard.  In the last several years, family has become more and more important to me.

But last year, family was in various stages of transit from home to Massachusetts for the wedding.  Those who were already in Salem were the principals in the wedding, focussing solely on the next say's event.  The wedding took precedence over everything - as well it should.

The Friendship, a replica of a War of 1812 frigate, permanently moored and open for tours

Yet, during the last few years if I've learned anything I've learned that life, largely, is what you make of it.  I've leaned that while I cannot change anyone else, I can change myself.

I couldn't stop the adversaries from targeting me, from excluding me, from gossiping, slandering, defaming my character to anyone who would listen and ultimately to libel.  

I couldn't stop them.  I can't change them.  

But I can choose to recover.  I can work lifestyle changes which lead to a healthier, happier mind frame.

I can change myself.

And so, on this day which was probably not important in the scheme of things to anybody but myself and a small circle of friends, we chose to celebrate where we were and with what was at hand.  With my long sufferin' hubby who promised more than three decades ago to love, honour and be my travelling companion through the journey of life.

First up, explore Salem, find a restaurant for a birthday lunch, explore Salem some more, take pictures, walk around, take more pictures.

Doing one of my favorite things:  exploring.  Okay two of my favorite things:  taking pictures.

There was so much to see.  So much history.  Especially in the area we were in.

To celebrate, we took a cruise aboard a replicate of a War of 1812 frigate around the harbour area.  A sailing schooner.  

Something I've never done before and will probably never have the opportunity to do again.

An old rope shed at the mouth of the harbour

Enjoying the scenery.  Being with my best friend and hubby.

An interesting tidbit:  there are various versions floating around about who won the War of 1812 - depending on which side of the U.S./Canadian border you live on.  The Americans say they won.  Us Canadians know that we won.  The most interesting take on who won was by the captain of our sailing vessel:  the Indians won.

Take your pick.....

Historic buildings are everywhere, especially in the harbour district.  I loved this eagle atop this building.

Words cannot adequately describe the voyage, so I will let the pictures tell the rest of the story.

Aboard the Fame, a replica of a War of 1812 Frigate, for a tour around the harbour

Give me a lighthouse and I'm a happy camper

Ahhhh, the peace and tranquility of living in the moment.  Since it was a sailing schooner, no noise.  Heaven.

Getting a decent picture of this lighthouse became my personal challenge for the day.

The scene on the river heading back to where The Fame is moored

The cruise ended all too soon and we de-boarded.  Walking back to the hotel - and real life.  Our interlude ended.

Yet more adventures await us.  Some good.  Some not so good.  The wedding the next day.  Family.  Travelling home again....

The death of my mother two weeks later.  But that's another story for another time.

Life ...

... is largely what you make it.

Trite ... but true.

Today, I choose to make this the best birthday ever.  

Why?  

Cause I'm alive to celebrate it.