My Happy Place

Sitting with a new friend the other day who is going through many challenges, I asked her: "What is your happy place?" 

Where do you go when life overwhelms you?

For her, her happy places, the places where she finds relief from her constant battles with different illnesses are such things as tae kwon doe, the video game of warcraft where she can "smash" things and relieve the stress, knitting which is a great right brain activity and watching a favourite TV show.

We all need those happy places we can go to no matter what our life looks like.

In my journey of recovery, I have several happy places.  Cycling.  Walking.  Knitting. Watching DVDs, gardening ....

My favourite is to watch growing things grow in my garden. To watch them come up again year after year, grow, bud and then burst into full bloom all in good time.

In the very back of my long, narrow backyard is a flower garden which I created in memory of my mom shortly after her passing several years ago.  She loved flowers.  She had a garden for many years with both flowers and tomatoes.  She always started tomatoes from seed in the large picture window in the living room.  At some point, she branched out to other vegetables including squash.  I remember we ate squash one year until it was coming out of our ears.  She got got creative in how she cooked it.

In my yard, Mom's garden is mostly flowers - with the one exception of tomatoes grown by seed in my living room.  Under gro lights. No garden in her memory would be complete without at least one tomato plant started from seed

It makes me feel closer to her.  It's my way of honouring her memory in a tangible way.

Last year, for the first time since the "injury" from workplace abuse, I was able to do more things in the garden such as pulling weeds and  enlarging several areas in other parts of the yard.  I called those areas my "do it by self" gardens as for once I didn't rely on hubby for the heavy work.  I felt strong enough to do it by self.  I grew more flowers from seed and they flourished which brought joy to my heart and soul.

Daily, once it gets warm enough for things to start waking up from their long winter's sleep, I go outside and make a tour of my yard and see what new things are coming up.  What new things are blooming.

Spring is an exciting time for me.

I love the orderliness of nature how one type of flower proceeds another.  First are the late winter, early spring flowers such as snow crocus followed by other types of crocus which in turn are followed by daffodils and tulips.  Then comes the iris.  The parade of flowering plants goes on throughout the spring, summer and even fall.  A cacophony (visually) of colour.

Last fall, I planted more than 100 spring bulbs - my mom always liked the spring flowers coming up yearly in her garden - and am waiting for them to peak through the ground, grow and then bloom.

Just like cycling where each kilometre peddled is a huge victory for me, so is my garden.

Each weed pulled.  Each bit of border enlarged.  Each new plant inputted into the ground.  Each new bloom.  These are all victories on my journey of recovery.  Mixed in the back garden along with the flowers are the tomatoes.  For me, the joy is in growing them.  Eating their fruit is a byproduct.  A good byproduct.

As the spring and summer progresses, I like to sit on my patio in the evening with hubby on the new deck he built two years ago watching birds flitting about.  Drinking in all the colours of the plants in front of me. 

When I look at all the blooming things, I feel peace.  This is why this is my happy place. It is a place filled with peace in an otherwise chaotic world.

Surviving Workplace Abuse: Disrupting the routine and going outside the comfort zone

Another routine disruption accidentally led to an early morning walk along the river.

Today, I would really prefer to be anything by blogging.  My routine has been disrupted for several days, which doesn't allow me the structure I need on this road to recovery.

Now don't get me wrong.  Having my routine disrupted isn't really a bad thing.  Or entirely a bad thing, as it takes me out of my "comfort zone" in small bites thus allowing me to get insight and glimpses into how I am progressing on the road to recovery.  But, it does make getting back into my normal routine a bit harder.

Right now, every fibre of my being is crying out for DVD therapy, rather than blog i.e. processing therapy.

I don't want to think right now.  I don't want to try to form thoughts into words and words into sentences that make sense.

I just want to veg.

Going back into the theme of routine disruptions, take Monday for example.  I had something on hold at the library to pick up - which is very much in my comfort zone - as well as a part to repair our vacuum to pick up at a mall on the other side of town - which is no longer in my comfort zone.

I designed a plan.  I would take the bus to the library, pick up the item being held, then take the Express bus across town to the mall, pick up the part and then retrace my steps, thus combining the familiar with the unfamiliar.  It seemed like a plan.  A good one ...

Until ....

Until hubby was having breaky and we realized that a lot of the items he puts in his lunch were down to zero.  I ended up getting very creative in putting things - and yes, they were edible - into his lunchbox which in itself is a disruption to our normal routine as he usually fixes his own lunch.  At that point, I realized that I needed to try to figure out a way to include a wee bit of grocery shopping - without a vehicle to load them into and without a grocery store being on my direct route.

Solution?

What else does a mother do when she has a quandary like that?

She texts her adult daughter and asks for help.

Adult daughter replies that she has to go grocery shopping herself, so we can do it together.

Hey!  I've just got a new plan in the formation.  One that has real possibilities of working.

When daughter picks me up, she asks where I want to go.  I wanted to go to the store I normally do my shopping at because I am familiar with it.  It's in my comfort zone.  However, she needed to pick up some non-grocery items and had a time limit.

Solution?

We chose to go to a WalMart which if half grocery items and half the other kind of stuff.  It was definitely not in my comfort zone, but it was logical.  So that is what we did.  (I am nothing if not logical.)

I don't know if I've mentioned it or not in this blog, but I have been having trouble focussing clearly with my eyes since around the time I had the stress breakdowns at work.  I've seen the optometrist several times and my vision has not changed.  She has suggested that stress can cause visual problems and also that I had the beginnings of cataracts.  So which is it?  Cataracts or stress?  Either way, it drives me nuts when I'm in an unfamiliar place looking for items such as was the case on Monday.  I felt like I was in a fog mentally and also in a fog visually.

It was fun though, as WalMart has different brands than I usually buy and I had fun picking out different cat food for one very persnickety cat.

After shopping and making a detour by my place to drop off my groceries and her place to do the same, she deposited me at the library and went on her way.  So,  my original plan A went back into effect.  And it worked.  It worked well, I'm happy to say.

Am I stronger for the experience?  I don't know.  It's too soon to tell as frankly I'm tired and feel worn out.

Yet, there's a part of me that wants to do a thumbs up victory sign like I did when I successfully confronted my "favorite" nemesis - the Observation Tower in Parry Sound, Ontario - and won!

So today, even though I'm tired, even though my mind feels like it's filled with cotton batting rather than brains and really doesn't want to function, I still feel that I'm on the winning side.  Recovery, mostly unnoticed, is happening.

Until tomorrow ....

Surviving Workplace Abuse: The value of coping techniques

As I walk - OK stumble and bumble - through this journey of recovery post workplace abuse, I often feel like this road construction project near our home which has been on-going for months now and is causing a lot of disruption in the traffic flow in our area.  It also doesn't look like it's about to finished any time soon either.  Riding on the bus on this road yesterday was a torturous experience at best.  Bumpy.  Scary even with heavy equipment seemingly everywhere - one of which, I think, came perilously close to hitting our bus with its bucket.  At least, I think the driver thought so as he braked suddenly and waved at the driver of the heavy equipment.  Frightening.  Definitely, not a fun experience and it's one which the driver has to navigate time and time again on this route.

I think the road to recovery after workplace abuse is similar to this piece of on-going road construction.  Difficult to navigate, needing careful consideration - and sometimes help.

Will it ever get done?

I have faith.

*******

I kind of stumbled onto this series about the value of coping techniques when recovering from workplace abuse when I had a really bad series of days after writing the post about being coerced into resigning during a surprise (to me) meeting.

Writing that post was both good and bad, I think.  It was good in that it uncorked the bottle so to speak and let out those emotions that had been stuffed inside since that time.  It was bad in that once let out, the emotions battered and buffeted me for several days until my coping techniques started to re-kick in.

Workplace abuse is a form of violence because it is about power and control.  Violence damages its victim.  Sometimes the damage is severe enough that it doesn't go away for a very long time, even with treatment i.e. therapy.  A case in point.  I still have limitations after breaking my wrist almost two years ago.  I've come to the conclusion that I'm just going to have to live with them - and work around them.  Similarly, a close friend was mauled by a dog several years ago.  She still has scars - and will always have them - from that attack.  Plus coping with the after effects of the trauma of having been mauled by the dog that night.

Yesterday, I wrote about the value of routines in my life as I progress along the road to recovery - and a somewhat normal life.  As I wrote about it, I realized that another huge coping technique throughout the entire journey from the early onset until now can be summed up in the word "comfort".

We all know about comfort foods.  Foods which make us feel good.  Early on, I enlarged that concept in my life to include "comfort clothes":  clothes that I feel especially comfortable in.  A large part of which are wraps, shawls or ponchos that I've made.  As I wrapped them around me, I felt not only comfortable but protected.  Maybe it's only a mind game or an illusion ... but it worked.

Today, though, I want to expand that concept of comfort onto places and people.

I've long since realized who the safe people are in my life.  They are those who are aware of my journey and the challenges I experience on it and work very hard to help me rather than hinder me on my road to recovery.  These "safe" people are also people I'm comfortable being around.  And I can trust them.  They would not deliberately say or do anything to hurt me like the only woman from my church who I thought was "safe" and allowed into my safe room only to have her hurt me and buffet me with words.  She is not on my list of safe people.  Neither is that particular church on my list of safe places - because safe places are inhabited by safe people.

There are places where I feel safer than other places.  As I've mentioned previously, because the co-workers got on my Facebook page and ran to management with their claims of ethics violations as well as writing and circulating a petition for signatures with various unproven - and probably unprovable - allegations, I did not feel safe in the outside world after I signed that document in the donut shop that day.  I was afraid of what these people might possibly conceive of to do to me - even after they had won and I was long gone.

The fear has lessened in the last year, but it is still there to some degree.

In addition to developing a routine, or routines, in my life, as I've started accessing the world outside my house usually in small bits rather than large bites, I've developed a feeling of comfort in some places such as the local yarn shops, the library, the uptown core of our city, the bus getting there and back, the pharmacy, the doctor's office, etc.

I realized the need for that feeling of comfort when hubby gave me the task of making the reservations for our little mini vacation a few weeks ago.  I thought of all the places we could go.  Some didn't feel right because of the distance involved.  Some felt right but there was camping involved - which we both love, but were we realistically capable of the physical rigours of setting up the tent, etc.?  Especially after driving hours to get there?

So, finally I let me mind drift to where I felt most comfortable - which is around water, in a canoe, camera in hand.

Then my mind settled on the town of Parry Sound Ontario on Georgian Bay where we've gone numerous times in the journey.  For years, we've stayed at the same one star motel.  We've gone through three owners now and are treated like long lost friends.  I feel comfortable there.

In our various wanderings, we discovered years ago where there is an Outfitters which rents canoes.  Again, they're on my list of comfort zones, so we rented a canoe from them.

We ventured outside of our comfort zone when we put the canoe in close to the town of Parry Sound itself and ventured into a narrows which was heavily traversed by motorized pleasure craft of all sizes from skidoos to cruisers - and some boats that defied description.  We ended up at one point stuck in a little cove where the wake from passing watercraft threatened to swamp and capsize us.

Putting in at the Swing Bridge in Parry Sound and traversing Two Mile Narrows at high noon on Labour Day

We were actually trapped in that cove for a while as whenever we tried to get out, another fast boat came along.  Yet, this may have been way outside my comfort zone and may not be something I would attempt again in the same way, at the same time, but yet it was not an experience which provoked trauma.

Why?

Because we could see the boats and their wakes coming.  We could anticipate things.  And some of the boats saw us before passing us and slowed down.  Others saw too late what was happening and stopped and looked back to make sure we were safe before going on.  But most of all, because I've learned to trust the person in the back of the canoe.  The one who is trusted with steering and keeping us safe.  I've learned to trust his instincts and his knowledge.  He knows that getting hit broadside by the wake is the surest way to capsize the canoe; therefore, he tries to head the canoe into the wake.  A bumpy ride to be sure, a little harrowing until the wake passes and the water is calm again, but still the safest way to meet this danger head on.

*******

Workplace bullying aka abuse aka psychological harassment aka small "h" harassment is all about broadsiding the victim aka target.  It is all about swamping and capsizing their little canoe which they do in ways over and over that the target cannot anticipate which is what has caused the severity of the trauma I experienced and the difficult of the road I travel toward recovery.

*******

Heading out onto Georgian Bay from Snug Harbour, Ontario towards Kilbear Provincial Park the day after Labour Day

We went again in the canoe again the next day.  A different put-in point.  Almost no pleasure craft around.  Calm waters, sun and fluffy white clouds.  A place we've been before.  A place we're comfortable with.

During both experiences, as I held that paddle in my hand and dipped it into the water feeling the power and strength propel our canoe forward, I felt fully whole and alive for the first time in years.  Fully in my element.

I came home from our mini-vacation feeling totally relaxed and laid back.

Hubby came home with a bad sunburn.  I guess you can't have everything.

Experiences like this give me hope and encourage me to believe that I will heal.  I will eventually fly again.

Until tomorrow dear friends ....

Surviving Working Abuse - A Day In The Life, continuing recovery on the journey

Part of my routine which keeps me stable and able to function is the knitting and crocheting.  Another part is spending large amounts of my day in this little room in my house - formerly a bedroom now my "safe" room where I knit, crochet, watch DVDs, write my blog, etc.

As you've probably noticed, I did not post a blog on Friday.  I do apologize for that to you, my loyal readers.

I have been feeling emotionally paralyzed by so many different and conflicting emotions as I wrote last week's blog posts.  So many directions in which I can take this blog.  But not all at once.  It has to be one blog post at a time.  So do I write a series on one theme such as all the things that went wrong at my workplace?  Do I take a side trail such as mobbing which is part and parcel of the issue?  Or do I go off on other themes which are still interrelated to the theme of recovery from workplace bullying as a whole? Or do I hopscotch around to what seems important on any given day at any given time?

All of these trails have merits.  But I can only follow each one one blog post at a time.

So Friday, I was grappling with the direction I wanted this blog to go in and had no concrete idea on which one to follow.  They're all important.  Such as the last blog post I wrote on Thursday, the one
about some of my coping techniques.  Ones that I use when I am completely down for the count, unable to do much of anything constructive except just be.  Yet there are other coping techniques I use, for the most part unconsciously, according to what my situation is on any given day.

Coping techniques are a huge part of my strategy for recovery and stability.

One coping technique which has been extremely valuable in my journey post trauma and post workplace abuse has become the importance of having a routine.  We all have routines.  My former routine involved getting up, getting ready for work, going to work, working, coming home and unwinding before going to sleep and doing it all again the next day.  That was my former structure.  Leaving the work situation, especially leaving it when I was so ill basically left me feeling adrift on a very large very stormy sea.  Therefore, I have set up a basic daily routine which allows me structure in my daily life.  Because it allows me structure in my daily life, it also allows me a bit of power and control.

Of course, there are sometimes disruptions in my daily routine.  Sometimes it is intentionally upset as when we go away.

Sometimes it is unintentionally disrupted, as was the case on Friday.

My daily routine includes having coffee with hubby before he goes to work, writing my blog, checking my emails, checking out some news reports, writing an email to a good friend, posting a picture, etc.

Having coffee with hubby is as far as I got on Friday.

It all started innocently enough when hubby discovered something leaking from the car the night before.  Just before he was about to leave, he suggested that I go with him to work, drop him off and drive the car to the mechanics.  Which is what happened.

Now his workplace is all the way across town.  I rarely drive anymore.  This was way out of the ordinary, especially doing it on the fly.  The mechanic, however, is way across on the other side of town - and our house is somewhere in the middle.  Somewhere.  The mechanic was aware that I was coming and had a loaner car for me to drive away in exchange.  Bonus!

One deviance in my routine led to another deviance in my routine as the day progressed.  I went to visit my daughter who lives very close to the mechanic and actually give her a ride to a meeting - which I haven't been able to do in years.  It felt ... odd.  Then I had to drop off a DVD to the library.  That wasn't so odd as the library has become part of my list of "places that I feel safe in".  Then, I decided since I was very close to a grocery store and had a vehicle so wouldn't have to pack any purchases home on the bus that I would visit the grocery store and pick up a few things.

Now, most people wouldn't give a second thought to any of these activities.  And neither would I have ... before workplace abuse deprived me of a lot of who I used to be.  I used to by a powerhouse of energy.  A dynamo.  When I moved, I moved quickly and got things done.

No longer.  Each task, I find, needs to be thought out carefully in advance.  I'm rarely spontaneous anymore.  I don't have the energy.  I don't have the skills.  Even taking my meds is a challenge somedays.

So all of this was not just a victory on my journey to recovery, but a glimpse into how far I've come on the journey in the last year or so.

In 2011-2012, I couldn't do the grocery shopping alone, unaided.  Cognitive skills and motor skills were both down.  Hubby went went me.  My balance was so bad that I used the grocery cart as a four-wheeled, very lumbering walker.  I needed hubby to be my shield between people and myself.

Friday, I was ready to go alone.  To use a basket, not a cart.  People didn't look very scary.  I made it through the store and out the check out line without any trauma.  Yes!!!!!

It felt good.

Back home though, I realized I was tired and that I sorely needed my routine to get back on track.

That said, life - in the form of my mechanic - had a few other ideas for me.

Like being called back to the mechanics to pick up our car and drop off the loaner as they'd discovered the problem, ordered the parts and figured it was safe to drive until the parts came on.

I wanted to leave my house, get into their loaner vehicle and drive like I wanted another hole in my head - which I don't.

I also decided to detour and pick up daughter on the way there..

There is where fate - and road construction - intervened.  Our twin cities seem to be a work - or rather works - in progress of unrelated construction activities.  One end of a road blocked off here.  Another end blocked off there.  Making it - at least for me on Friday - a "you can't get there from here" kind of scenario.  One top of that, the car informed me as I was pulling out of the driveway that it needed gas.  Sigh.  A trip to the gas station was not on my agenda.  My head felt like it was filled with cotton batting instead of brains.  Thinking, planning a route to get from here to there and get gas became problematic.

Finally I decided on a route - which would have worked had it not been for the road construction.  I ended up taking a very long, circuitous route to pick up my daughter who by that time thought I was lost.  She wasn't far wrong - but I wasn't going to admit it.

Eventually, I got back to my house, my safe place, my safe room after navigating road closures, returning the car, picking up mine, etc.

Time for a sigh of relief?  Not yet.

Remember, I had dropped hubby off at work in the a.m.  What gets dropped off, has to be picked up.  For me, it meant another drive across town at night, after dark.  Which is another problem in and of itself as I am having vision problems.  Whether they're related to getting older, continuing stress affects of what happened in the workplace - or both, I don't know.  The last time I tried it was not an experience I want to repeat.

So, hubby and I devised a plan.  I would drive to the shopping mall on that edge of town while it was still light and wait for him to call me.

I felt exhilarated to have been able to drive there without any problems.  It was a Friday night and lots of people were careening around.  It felt good to be out.  It felt good to be alive.  It felt like I was finally re-entering life as I used to know it.

Looking back, my routine got thoroughly disrupted on Friday.  Yet ... would I have it any other way?  Would I want to miss out on those opportunities which show me how far I've come.  Or those opportunities which show me what I have yet to do on the journey?  I don't think so.

Either way, I realized after the fact, that while I missed writing and posting my blog, I did a lot of important work on the journey that day.

Where are you on your journey of recovery?  Can you look back and see how far you've come - even if it's only a small space - from where you were to where you are now?

I sincerely hope you can.

Until tomorrow....