Surviving Workplace Abuse: More Lies

I've written earlier about the place of "lies" - those things we, the targets, internalize - in both our experience in the workplace and also in our recovery.  Or rather in retarding our recovery.

I wrote earlier this eyar about the biggest lie I internalized - "perceptions" and "assumption" - and how it took a long time and a lot of work to realize those two words for what they were - lies - and then to work through them so that I no longer believed that the very way I was wired i.e. the way I thought and perceived life, was wrong.

Since I wrote that post, other lies have come up.  I mentioned one briefly in the story about the bullying (elderly) passenger on the bus the other week.  The man who demanded a seat by glaring and then started pushing and shoving me into the wall because he felt I didn't give him enough room.  No words were spoken, initially, but when it got to the pushing and shoving stage, believe me, words were spoken.  Loudly.

It was through the subsequent processing of that experience that I realized another lie I'd internalized from both of my workplace bullying experiences:  the lie that being loud is wrong.  Another lie is that standing my ground is automatically "confrontative" and, therefore, also very wrong.  In that incident, I'd done both and was condemning myself because of the lies I'd internalized.

In that post, I wrote about the power of affirmation in realizing those two lies and putting them where they belonged - in the trash - after talking with both a friend and someone at the regional transit centre.  Both felt I'd handled the situation well - even though it did become a verbal confrontation.  The transit representative took it a bit further and said that she was glad that I hadn't given in to this bully and gotten up and given him the entire seat - which was probably what he wanted.  We're guessing that he had probably gotten his way before by using these tactics.  About the verbal confrontation, she didn't seem to see it as a problem and commented that it wasn't a physical confrontation which would have been a problem.

This man was one experience in a lifetime of experiences.  One encounter, one time on one bus in a lifetime of riding buses.  (concept taken from Jan Silvious's book Look At It This Way.)

Because it is one experience in a lifetime of experiences - and a brief one at that, it is easier to put this one to rest - and get on with not only my life, but my journey towards recovery.  Even using it as a piece of the recovery.

Over the past summer another lie which I've internalized over the years raised its ugly head.  The lie that I'm. Not. Good. Enough.

The question:  Not good enough for what?

The answer:  not good enough for whoever the person is in the given situation.

And then I realized that that person is often myself.  I'm not good enough for me.

I struggle with self esteem - and have from an early age.  Even though there's been a significant amount of recovery in the journey over the years, my self-esteem seems to be as shaky as unset jello.  I seem to need constant affirmation that I am OK.  That I am worthwhile.  That I do have value.  That I am good enough.

This is a very hard lie to shake.  And one, frankly, that I am still working on because it is a deep-rooted lie based on self-esteem.

This lie rears it's ugly head many times, in many ways, as I walk through my normal routine of daily living.  It's only been recently that I've begun to recognize it for what it is.  Now to work on the why and how to get rid of it.

This lie shows up in everything I do:  my writing, knitting, crocheting, cooking, photography.  You name it, it's there.  Especially if I make a mistake - or fail to reach someone's marker.  I feel like no matter how good I am at what I do there's always someone better.

But then is that a liability?  If there's someone better, I can perhaps get advice/mentoring from them.

The reverse is also true:  there's usually someone who looks up to me as really skilled at the things I do and comes to me for advice.  On knitting and crocheting.  Etc.

I think the big problem is not that others are setting the banner too high for me but that I am setting the banner too high for myself.

I want everything I do to be perfect - and it's not.

You may have heard that when the artisans make a Persian rug, they purposefully put in a mistake because only God is perfect.  Well, I don't have to purposefully put in a mistake.  It happens naturally with me.  And it causes me to realize that I'm not perfect.  Only God is perfect.  And then it becomes OK.

*******

You're probably wondering what the two pictures above, one of a crocheted stocking in progress and one of the chart I'm attempting to follow, have to do with this post about the lie of not being good enough.

Yet, I'm so tough on myself that this is a good example.  I've had a lot of trouble reading the chart probably because of the ongoing problems with my cognitive skills.  I've crocheted, counted, ripped out, crocheted again, counted again, ripped out again sometimes once, sometimes twice before I finally figure out where the mistake is.  I've put it down a good many times, rested my poor brain (and my eyes), and then picked it up again.  Because one thing I'm not is a quitter.  That's one lie I don't have in my subconscious.

Because I set the banner so high - as in nothing less than perfection will do,  I see - and magnify in my mind - all the imperfections I see:  for one the design lists to the left.  But in the scheme of things will the seven/eight month old who receives it really care?  As he grows older, will he notice the imperfections or look at it as a treasured part of his Christmas tradition beginning at his first Christmas ever?

I choose to believe the latter.  Therefore, as soon as I publish this post, I will pick up the hook and the stocking and restart again.

Until tomorrow....

Surviving Workplace Abuse:

Today we continue on the journey of debunking the lies:  perceptions and assumptions.  From the other side.  From the side of those who observe us.  From the side of those who rather than getting acquainted with us and our stories and attempting to find heathy ways to walk alongside us in our journey rely on what they see and, most importantly, what they've been told by others.

Relying on someone else's perceptions and assumptions on the matter rather than investigating for themselves and making their own perceptions and assumptions based on something more solid - like a relationship with the individual involved.

This is my story.  Uniquely mine.  Told from my side of the equation, the side that has gotten bruised, battered and very muddied through the journey.  The side that has somehow continued to get up in the morning and chose to focus on recovery.  Even after seeming defeats.

That side.  That story.

*******

Remember the earlier postings about the earth cam?  The saga of the search for this seemingly elusive piece of technology in North Myrtle Beach and subsequently finding it in Myrtle Beach?  How we stood in front of that building talking on the cell phone with our daughters back in Ontario?  How people passing us had no idea there was an earth cam in that location and that people from all over the world could see them (and us talking on our cell phone) as they passed?  I'm guessing that the people who observed our behaviour that day, the ones who had no clue there was an earth cam there, had some perceptions and assumptions of their own about us.  We were nuts.

Assumptions and perceptions.  Based on their senses.  What they saw.  What they observed  And their knowledge - or lack of it in this particular case. 

My journey of unrelenting hurt, pain, exhaustion, inability to do even the simplest tasks continued on throughout the fall of 2012.  So much so, that I've blocked out whole pieces of that particular time.  I remember only the bigger things like the first Thanksgiving after Mom's death and feeling overwhelmed and inadequate even trying to put on a very simple meal for immediate family members only.  Likewise, I remember falling out of the bathtub and breaking my wrist.  The excruciating pain. The hospital journey.  Again, the unrelenting pain.  The times I met with a friend who was walking through a painful journey of her own with cancer and the talks we had - until I broke my wrist and could no longer drive.  I remember the same person coming over on one of her good weeks immediately after I broke my wrist with a plant, a home made card, and a meal.  A meal ironically which had been given to her by our church.  Because she too was down for the count.  She too had no resources to cook and do things.  I remember this incident so clearly because she gave out of what she had in a time when she was needy herself.

Similarly, there is another time, another incident which occurred at the very end of that year, that period of time in 2012 which is forever seared in my memory.

Finally, after three months of being ignored and feeling abandoned, a staff member from the church called and asked to come over.  I had had previous positive interactions with this staff member and felt that she was safe.  Perceptions and assumptions which turned out to be false.

Things started out well.  I tend to be a visual person, so I wanted to tell her the story of bereavement and post bereavement visually through pictures on my computer and the things I made. My own show and tell.

In short, I let a person who in retrospect turned out to be unsafe into my safe place.  My safe room.  My sanctuary.

First clue.  She wouldn't sit on the comfortable chair provided.  She stood over me.  Looking down on me.

Second clue.  Body language.  Looking down on me.  Arms folded across her chest.  Stiff.  Unyielding.  Definitely not relaxed.

I was sharing with her the emotion of how abandoned I felt when suddenly she said:  "I wonder if you realize when you hurt others."

I felt like I'd been slapped on the face.

We weren't talking about me hurting others.  We were talking about my excruciating hurt.

With that simple sentence, she turned things around.  Frankly, I had no idea what she was talking about.  Who had I hurt?  When?  How?  And what did that have to do with helping me?

We suddenly shifted from my hurt to unknown others.  And that somehow when I'm in such a world of hurt that tears are cascading down my cheeks like Niagara Falls, I'm supposed to deal with others' hurts.

My perceptions and assumptions allowing her to enter my home were (a) that she was a safe person and (b) that she was there to problem solve ways in which the church family could come around me and support me during this time in my life.  Maybe even offer an apology for not being there in the first place.

I was wrong.

Having gained the advantage, the power and control over the situation, she continued on in this vein.  Standing.  Looking down on me.  Body language tense.

I showed her the things I made.  She told that this was not who I am.  With these words, she dismissed something very valuable to me.  My right brain therapy.  What I do.  How I cope with my situation.  Most importantly, how I bless others.

I was told that I hurt others in the church, and that is why no one wanted to talk to me.

Slap.  Slap.  Slap.  Verbally not physically.

I was told that my friend who was going through a very serious physical illness was worthy of church help because they had been in the church for years, her parents went to the church, they had been in a small group, she had volunteered with the children's ministry, etc.

Similarly, I was told in as many words that I was not worthy because I did not belong to a small group.  I was not involved in ministry.  I was not doing the things that they considered worthy in their criterion of evaluation.  The fact that for most of my tenure at the church, I was actively working on recovery and was not in a place where I could do these things was not taken into consideration.

More slaps.  More hurt.

I was told that I was abandoned because I had "weak" relationships.

At that point, I began to realize that this woman had absolutely no idea of where I had been when I first came to that church six years prior.  Of the injury from the former church.  How extensive it was, the steps I'd taken through the years.  That I had once been part of a small group and that it had folded.  Most importantly, she had absolutely no idea of trauma.  In addition, I realized that people who were part of the church in my earliest days of attendance who had walked with me and had even attended a session with my therapist on trauma so that they could walk with me had all scattered to other places, other posts.  One went to the mission field.  One felt that his "shelf life" had expired after the church had appointed a new minister and left.  All the knowledge about trauma left with these people.  Ditto all the knowledge about the steps I'd taken and the progress I'd made.

I also realized that the church I had walked into six years prior was no longer the church I attended now.  Same building, yes.  But the focus had changed from acceptance and helping wounded people to something else.  A different focus I'm still not sure of.

Gone.  This woman had no clue.  She hadn't been there in that position at that time.  She didn't know.  She came into my home with "knowledge" based on faulty perceptions and assumptions.

I was also confused.  I don't know what Bible this woman reads, but this is not how my Bible reads.  Giving to others so I can receive back?  Not in the Bible. 

Knitting and crocheting chemo hats, prayer shawl, afghans and giving them to others across Canada and the U.S. who were going through their own difficulties, who could not repay for my gifts, did not count. Ditto: praying for others did not count.  Investing time and energy in those who were outside the church body and could not possibly repay me also did not count.  Probably because these were things that the church could not see and, therefore, could not objectively evaluate or quantify.  These were things they would only know if they were walking with me.

She did ask how the church could support me in my journey given the circumstances.  That is always a hard question to answer as my experience has shown that once I voice my viewpoint I become (a) vulnerable, (b) I'm not expecting the question so I bumble and stumble and (c) I am placed in a position where the other person can easily shoot down.  To say no.  In short, I become vulnerable.

This is what happened in this situation, in this very room where I write these blogs, where I knit and crochet, where I feel safe.

It would have been so much better if that person had come into my house, my safe place, with a plan already formulated of how they could support me better in the upcoming months in place.  A plan we could discuss and modify.

I felt that having someone regularly reach out to me via phone as in every week or two to see how I was doing and if there were any needs they could meet, would help a lot as it was in the silence, the absence of human contact that I was having so much trouble with.

Her answer:  No, we don't do this.

So where did this leave me?  

Nowhere.

During most of this conversation, I was deluged in tears.  I was still crying uncontrollably when she left.  Her face dispassionate as though I were some whiny kid trying to get something I didn't deserve.

I cried for the best part of 20 hours.  I couldn't sleep.  I felt so worthless.

Somehow I made it through that miserable night.  In the morning, when I felt it was late enough that I would not awaken my daughter, I called her.  As I've said before, she has walked with me through this journey even when she was hurting herself and it was probably not in her own best interests.  She was appalled at some of the things that had been said especially about knitting and crocheting being not who I am. She understand the hurt, the devastation, the vulnerability.  She too was confused as she said:  "But that's what you do and how you bless people."

While we were still on the phone, another call came through from someone we both know and are close to.  Someone who has walked with me in this journey.  Someone who doesn't always understand everything, but has learned to listen, to ask questions, to love.  I switched to her call.  It was like the two were unknowingly tag teaming to get me back to a stable platform, a healthier place emotionally.

The fog began to lift.  I began to slowly come to terms with the visit.  To understand the dynamics that had been in place.  The misperceptions.  The faulty assumptions.  The lies.

However, the hurt, the injury, the disconnect with my church remained.

*******

I'm going to stop here for today as remembering this is taking its toll on me.

I was left with many impressions and questions after this meeting.

The most crucial question I had was turning around this person's question, Do I realize when I hurt others?, to Does she realize when she's hurting others?  Did she not know how badly she hurt me?  Especially when she could see the tears?

She had badly injured me during a time when I was very vulnerable.  Yet, she didn't seem to either realize it or care.

Questions that arose in my mind after the fact were:  "What was she doing in my home?, What was her purpose, her objective, that day? Did she come to help me?  Or did she come to confront me?"

She was going on a sabbatical for three months just three days after this meeting and would be completely severed from the church body for that period of time as in no communication with people from the church and no attendance at the church, so there was no continuity, no follow through.  Given that circumstance, why was she in my house?

Perceptions and Assumptions.  I believe that she came that day with her own set of perceptions and assumptions.  Those she had gained through others.  Others who were conspicuously absent on my journey.

Until tomorrow ....

Post Workplace Abuse: Confronting the Lie "Perceptions and Assumptions" Part 1

 The road to recovery post workplace abuse, is not always a road.  Nor is it always well-defined or even in a straight line.  Sometimes it's like a dirt path across a field. Sometimes it's an offshoot of a well-defined path. It can even be a sidewalk or a staircase.  Or climb up a mountain.  It's always changing and evolving as the survivor passes through from one piece of recovery to the next.  It's also different for each survivor as each one of us comes to the path with different experiences, different strengths, different weaknesses and different injuries from the experience.

Whatever.  

Our paths are usually pretty vague.  And not very popularly travelled.

*******

Today, we're continuing on the path of debunking the lies we internalized during the abusive situation.

I say "we" because, while the lies I internalized which have been holding me back from full recovery are specific to not only my situation but to this one particular situation (note that I had two back to back workplace bullying situations and the lies were quite different in both), each one of us has our own version of the lies we internalized in our own personal and unique situation.

We are alike in that we're on the same journey towards recovery from a horrific situation in our workplaces.  Yet, we are also different in that our injuries, our lies are unique to us.  Specific to our own situation, strengths, weaknesses and personality.

So today I present to you, my loyal reader, the beginning of my journey debunking the lie key I internalized in my own situation:  perceptions and assumptions.

*******

Lat week, I reposted a post about an experience hubby and I had shared at Myrtle Beach in 2013 called Togetherness.  Today, I will revisited the same place, the same timeframe, even the same experience - from a totally different perspective.  That of debunking the lie.  The lie regarding perceptions and assumptions.

My journey toward confronting head on that lie began, whether by intent or coincidence I cannot remember, in January 2013.

I had swallowed that lie hook, line and sinker.  So much so that whenever I said something that was not a hard fact and could not be verified by hard evidence, I would always add the codicil but that's just my perception and assumption.  Meaning it had no value.  Devaluing myself, my thought processes, my cognitive skills, etc.

My dear hubby who has been my longest and most loyal support would say something about my perceptions and assumptions being amazing.  However, I could neither believe nor internalize that at the time.

Hubby loves to watch an earth cam of Myrtle Beach.  Before we left, he showed it to one of our daughters who was going to house and cat sit for us.  She remarked that it would be fun if we could find it and then call her from that location and watch us talking to her.

Me, I was sceptical.  But out of that simple statement, the great "Myrtle Beach Earth Cam search" was begun.  We spent our week at North Myrtle Beach searching for this earth cam - which proved to be very elusive - at first - for us indeed.

First of all, we had a misperception.  We thought it was in North Myrtle Beach which is where we were.  Why?  Because at one point there had been a web cam at one of the resorts in North Myrtle Beach and we had even located it once.  For another, the earth cam page had originally been (mis)labelled as North Myrtle Each - for whatever reason.

So, we ended up looking for this elusive earth cam in the wrong area.  Approximately 20 miles north of where it actually was.

Needless to say, we didn't find the earth cam - at least not in the original part of the search, but we did find areas of North Myrtle Beach - and environs - which we had no idea existed.

Like these and dunes at the very, very end of North Myrtle Beach.

A fishing pier - which, of course, we'd never seen before.  I had the opportunity to take lots of pictures of this area which in and of itself was a piece of recovery for me.

Note:  most of these pictures reflect late afternoon sunlight as my energy was so low that I had to rest most of the day in order to go out for even an hour or so late in the afternoon.

I'm not sure what this is called whether it's a creek or part of the intercoastal waterway - which we hadn't known before existed either.

It began in that rugged beach area I've just shown in pictures.  Again something I would never had seen or experience had it not been for our search in the wrong area for this earth cam.

The vista at this far end of the beach at North Myrtle Beach totally fascinated me reminding me in some ways of South Padre Island in Texas:  the dunes, the wildness, the isolation.

We also found an area of North Myrtle Beach where homes are built with their own boat docks to cruise the intercoastal waterway.

We found the intercoastal waterway which we had never even heard of before.

We found a boardwalk over a salt marsh.

A salt marsh

Incredible photo opportunities.

a red-capped woodpecker

even a flying blue heron

All of this because we were searching in the wrong place.

But, alack and alas, no earth cam - because we were searching in the wrong place.

I began to give up on the idea of finding this earth cam.  I was having so much fun starting to experience and enjoy life on the search.  The search itself turned out to be more fun than actually finding the objective.

I had gained so much positive that finding it would only add the whipped cream and cherry topping on the sundae of our experience.

I learned later, much later, that perceptions are based on the information that we have available at the time.  My perceptions of where to look for the earth cam were based totally on its having been originally labelled as North Myrtle Beach and our experience of finding the resort-based cam years earlier.  Was there anything wrong with my perceptions and assumptions?  Not really.  They were simply based on the information I had at hand at that particular time.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

Tomorrow, we continue the experience.

See you then.

Togetherness ...

... is what I said to my former apartment superintendents a couple of decades ago when I saw them side by side in the building lobby painting the mailboxes.  What I meant as a joke got a sour grimace.  Turns out these two bears weren't getting along together very well at that particular moment in space and time.  Growly.  Snarly.  At each other.  They may have been working side by side but they definitely weren't enjoying it or feeling very close to each other.

Since that incident, the word "togetherness" has become a shared catchwork between my ever-lovin', ever sufferin' den mate, Papa Bear, and myself.

Togetherness ...

... is more than just a catchword.  A shared joke.  In marriage, togetherness is the glue that holds the couple together, making things work better, greasing the wheels.

Togetherness.

Papa Bear and I recently had a shared "togetherness" experience.

We had travelled to North Myrtle Beach, SC after Papa Bear became unemployed - again.  We've been there before and have enjoyed the slower pace, the sounds of the surf, the sun, the difference in climate from southern Ontario to southern U.S.

Papa Bear has also enjoyed surfing the net and finding web cams.  One he has particularly enjoyed watching is earth cam myrtle beach, sc.  So when we decided to go to Myrtle Beach, we determined to find the web cam and, if possible, phone our daughters while standing in front of it.

Thus began a weeklong search for the web cam.  We had many delightful experiences looking for it in all the wrong places - like North Myrtle Beach near the pier.  The beach was delightful, but alack! and alas! no sign of a boardwalk like the cam shows.  The boardwalk was our  first visual cue.  The flags the second.  But where was it?  We thought it was in front of some hotels.  We were wrong.  We thought it was in North Myrtle beach, where we were.  Wrong, again.

We had all but given up hope of ever finding the boardwalk and thus the web cam when I opened up a tourist brochure and Voila! there was a picture of the boardwalk complete with flags.  BUT the brochure didn't say where it was.  So I went on the world wide web and cued in the words:  "myrtle beach" and "boardwalk".  Voila! again.  I struck oil - or gold - or whatever.

Thus, we resurrected the great "earth cam search" once again (maybe this would make a good scenario for the Amazing Race, eh?  Looking for a web cam is kind of like looking for a needle in a haystack - without the haystack.)

 With Papa Bear at the wheel, we started off again.  This time to Myrtle Beach.  Yes.  You've read right.  There is a North Myrtle Beach and a Myrtle Beach, SC.  Kind of like my own Kitchener-Waterloo - twin cities which run into each other.  We still had some fun as Papa Bear kept turning to the beach too early.  But it was still fun.  The sunset was the palest pink that evening.  Like an artist sweeping the sand, sky and ocean with the purest of pastels.

And then we found it!  The Boardwalk.  Right in the heart of tourist trap Myrtle Beach!  We wandered down to the boardwalk.  Craning our necks to find the earth cam.  And then Papa Bear cried out!  There are the flags!  We're in the area.  So we really started to look around in earnest, craning our necks, looking up.

 It was Papa Bear who found the location, i.e. the flags, and then the earth cam.

 Hint:  if you're looking for the cam in my pictures, look up in the middle of the green building and there it is!  Small.  But an ever-seeing eye.  Virtually unnoticed by most walkers-by.

We whipped out our cell phone and called first one daughter then the other and then the other in turn (three in total).  Papa Bear instructed each one how to access the earth cam.  He's talking.  I'm waving - like an idiot - at a green building.  Passers by who had no idea a web cam was even in the area gave me some really interesting looks.  We had a ball talking with each daughter in turn as they watched us from several thousand miles away.  It was the highlight of our trip.  I would rate it as one of the best experiences of my recent history.

Togetherness.  Each of us has certain skill sets.  It took both our skill sets to find it.  Togetherness.  I wouldn't want to travel through life without it - or Papa Bear, my togetherness companion in this journey of life.