Post Workplace Abuse: Friends - The Importance of Healthy Relationships

Where are we now in our journey through surviving and recovering from workplace abuse?  I almost feel like we're back at the Head of Trails pictured here at Cypress Lake National Park, Tobermory, Ontario.  The main, most popular, trail leads to the Grotto where there are steep cliffs and good swimming.  However, there are many side trails available to walk - some longer than others, some which reconnect to the main trail and some which don't.

I've noticed that on the road to recovery, I might be following many paths all at the same time.  The main one being the on-going focus on recovery.  However, as I've mentioned before, workplace abuse and, therefore, its many affects is complicated.  It affects many areas of our lives concurrently, and I end up working on all of these areas in give or take the same time frame, although not all with the same intensity.

Currently, in my daily journey towards recovery I am actively working on debunking the lies of "perceptions and assumptions" while at the same time working on socialization i.e. relationships.

So today, we're taking a "side trip" into a path that has cropped up lately in my journey and which is causing me to do a lot of analyzing and thinking.

The path of friends and relationships.  Healthy relationships.  What do they look like?  Is everyone a candidate?

So today, we take a side trip into another part of the story.

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Lately my thoughts have been turning to friends. Not specific people though.  But what that kind of relationship looks like.  What it's all about.  Especially among adults.  I mean we're no longer children here.  In my 60s I'm not going to have the same kinds of relationships I had in my early childhood years.  Nor will it resemble those I had - or rather didn't have - in my adolescent or even university years.  "Mature" people need mature relationships.

In my journey through my two experiences with workplace abuse, I abruptly lost two sets of relationships which, at that time, were very important to me:  first, when my contract ended at the first bullying situation and I was escorted out the door; second,when I threw my Bible on the floor of the church library and incurred the wrath of our senior pastor.  Because of his anger, I didn't feel I could return.  In neither situation, did anyone feel that they could contact me.  So at two times when I needed relationships the most, they simply weren't there (except of course for my family - and that's a whole other side trip).

Wait a minute, you might say.  What about three sets of important relationships?  What about your most recent experience with workplace abuse? Didn't you lose contact abruptly with those people too?

The answer is yes, I did lose contact with those people in that now former workplace.  But the answer is also, no, because I held myself aloof from those people after my first workplace abuse experience ended so abruptly and badly.  I did not allow myself to get close to these people.

Why?

Because I didn't want to be hurt again.  Because I think part of me realized that these people might well be another "transient" population in my life journey.  And also, because like the situation before, this one was not permanent - at least originally.  I was on a maternity leave contract.

In the first situation, I wanted desperately a full-time, permanent position, and my employers kept holding out the proverbial carrot attached to a stick which kept being just out of my reach.  Unfortunately, hubby and I realized after the fact that the stick with the carrot had been attached to my tail so to speak, so it would always be the same elusive length head of me and it would never be possible for me to catch it.

I realized that way too late.

So, this time I went into a temporary situation with a completely different mindset.  I would do my best to keep this position operating efficiently so that this person, on her return, would have a well-running desk to return to.  I didn't allow myself to even think of this position becoming permanent UNTIL the woman whose position I was filling took on a different job within the company.  At which time, the maternity leave vacancy became null and void and I was either going to be out of a job immediately or hired to fill the vacancy.

I got the vacancy and being a permanent member of the team.

BUT, the damage, the hurt, the sense of violation from the first experience was still very raw.  Still completely unhealed.  I was walking through a desert experience.  A dry and thirsty land where there was no water, no understanding of what I'd been through and, therefore, no understanding of why I wasn't able to "let go" of the experience, why it was still with me every minute, every hour, every day of my waking life from the very first moment I opened my eyes in the morning until the last moment at night when sleep finally - with great difficulty - claimed me.

Because none of us really realized that that experience constituted workplace bullying aka workplace abuse, none of us realized the impact of trauma and PTSD.  The damage.  The injury.  Not even the therapist I was seeing at that time.  Especially not her as she became abusive.  She not only had no understanding of what PTSD was, which meant that she also had no background in trauma, she felt that even if I did have PTSD it would not change the dynamics of her therapy model.

Thus, she not only didn't help me, couldn't help me, but she damaged me further.

This is not to say that I didn't have people around me, but I built such a wall around my emotions, that all my interactions were kept at arm's length.  I may have had quite a few acquaintances, but I had no real friends.

It was not until I discovered my new therapist, that the on-going journey of recovery began.

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It looks like the deranged mind has rambled, hopefully temporarily, onto a side path that will at some point reconnect to the main path of trauma and how ignorance of trauma hinders those who are attempting to walk with the survivor (or victim) of workplace abuse.  

Until the below collection of physical trails in a Canadian national park which are neatly laid out, those trails the survivor of workplace abuse follows are not neatly laid out and whereas physically, it is only possible to access one trail at a time, emotionally us survivors may be working on any numbers of "trails" at any given time concurrently.

Looking closer in relationships has been a huge part of my journey in the last few months which is why I'm turning aside on this blog for a short time, to look at it a bit more closer.

I have a feeling we'll be jumping back and forth between relationships, perceptions and assumptions i.e. lies and trauma quite a bit in the posts to come.

Until tomorrow ....

Post Workplace Abuse - Which Direction to Follow on the Road to Recovery?

After the conference, I resemble this signpost in front of the Wellend Canal (Ontario) where the big lake boats come through heading from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario (or vice versa) - destinations and miles pointing this direction and that.  Now to decide.  Where do I want to go from here?  Which dream do I follow?  Can I follow more than one dream at the same time?  For the first time in a long time, I feel like the world is my oyster, my very own oyster, for me to go out and pluck.  I feel whole - at least for the time being....

I find myself at a crossroads todays.  With signs pointing towards different, distinct destinations.  Which sign, which thread should I follow in this blog?  Which will be the most valuable for me and my reader at this point?

Will it be the continuing story of abusive work situation #1?

Will it be the thread I had inserted into that narrative about symptoms which should make you aware that abuse either is happening to you (or your loved one) or has happened?

Or ... contestant #3 ... will it be a short series about the writer's conference I attended last weekend?  Which is in and of itself a huge milestone on my journey towards reclaiming my life post abuse.  But at the same time, it propels me back into the present, into where I am now post-abuse and into recovery.  It skips the major trauma, impact and subsequent learning about workplace abuse.  It skips the past which makes the present relevant.

Or will it start one place and veer off into a slightly different direction between returning to the main theme?

We shall see.

Since abusive situation #2 ended and recovery - or what passes for recovery - began, I've resembled  the canoes - or rather the canoeists (since canoes are inanimate objects and have no volition of their own) - in this picture taken on the Eramosa River ironically also in Guelph, Ontario.  Spinning my wheels in terms of what direction to go.  Paralyzed by my inability to grab my paddle, steer my canoe and move forward in a productive way; therefore, going in circles, running into other canoes, clumsy and possibly not entirely safe for the other canoeists.  Needing to find the right tool.  The right way.  To move forward.  But hindered by the past.  By the memories.  By the accusations that run through my brain again and again and again.  Especially when I'm out in the wide world.  There's always that voice that says:  "You were fired."  Or:  "You can't fire someone because you don't like them BUT they did."  When out in public, I feel like there is a sign above my head pointing out that I was ultimately fired in abusive situation #2 because I dared to say I was being bullied.

Attempting to break the fetters of my mind and my memories was my purpose in pushing my envelope and going to this conference, and I succeeded.

I went out among people.  Real people.  Scary people.  People who would laugh at the mere idea that they could be scary.  And I succeeded.

These people didn't know my past.  They didn't know the things I was accused of.  No one cared about what other people thought or felt or perceived or assumed about me.  All they cared about was that I was (a) there and (be) a writer.  Nothing else mattered.  I had a fresh start in a sea of people who were just like me:  writers, Christians, perfect in our admitted imperfection.  Not coming together as know-it-alls, even those who have been published or were part of the faculty, but coming together to learn more from each other.  As equals.

It was refreshing.

It was healing.

"Safety" is huge in the life of a survivor of workplace abuse.  Our world came crushing down on us in ways we could not understand then and still cannot understand now.  Our world was no longer safe.  And that feeling of unsafeness continues as we stagger on.  Nothing appears safe to us any more.  And that is why it is very possible for survivors/victims of workplace abuse to have agoraphobia.  A condition which limits us greatly and will continue to affect us throughout our lifetime unless we get therapy.  Unless we voluntarily find a safe way to push the envelope.

Therefore, I brought with me my safe person:   my niece, my Angel, my ballast, my protection.  However, we both perceived very shortly after arriving and signing in, that we were in a "safe" place with "safe" people.  (If someone there wasn't safe, they never showed themselves to me!  Or to her for that matter.)

Because my niece aka my buffer was with me, the affects didn't matter so much.  She was there to shield me from the worst - and to remove me if things got so bad within me that I couldn't stay.  She took notes when I was too fatigued to go to another session.  She made friends of her own - and shared some of them with me.  She had a smile on her face the whole time.  She enjoyed herself to the fullest - which made my soul beam and smile and enhanced my enjoyment.  I realize now that her presence allowed me to appear more normal than I actually am in this situation.  And, therefore, to be perceived as a normal person.

Normalcy:  that illusive something that most of us strive for - which is after all, just a setting on your clothes dryer (Patsy Clairemont).  As a victim of workplace abuse, I was singled out, or targeted, for certain behaviours such as exclusion and isolation, verbal abuse, gossip, slander, character assassination - and if that wasn't enough, at the very end cyberstalking.  Because I was accused of many things in workplace abuse situation #2, I perceived myself as not normal, damaged beyond redemption.  Worth less than the others in the workplace.  And that perception continued on until just recently when I realized that I had been operating under the assumption that not only was I worthless, a throwaway, but, more importantly, that I was worth less than others.

In this conference, I was neither worthless nor worth less than others.  I was an equal.  I was valued not because of what I had to offer or what I had written, because except for this blog, I haven't yet.  But for who I am.  A human being - just like them.  A writer in the process of becoming - just like them.  A Christian attempting to work out my own salvation - just like them.

I came away with a feeling of acceptance.  A feeling of worth.  I am just as worthy as anyone else - and that includes those who abused me in the workplace.

I came away with many impressions regarding my writing, where I want to go to from here, possible ways of getting there - which I haven't explored in this blog and which I may not explore per se but may become evident in my writing, my focus down the road.

I came away with this:  My name is Cassie Stratford and I AM A WRITER.

I am a writer because I write.

And my favorite one of all, the benediction at the very end of the conference:  Go forth and write.

I have found my direction.

Rough Spot on the Journey

Sometimes my walk through PTSD, trauma, severe stress and its aftereffects resembles the photo above.   A walk on a pier.  Except that when the bear (who strongly resembles Papa Bear) reaches the end of this pier he will stop, maybe take a look around, turn and head back to tierra firma.  Not so with victims/survivors of trauma.  It seems like in my journey, the on-going journey through trauma and recovery, is like that walk on the pier.  Except the trauma doesn't know enough to stop at the end of the pier, look around and turn back.  It keeps on going straight ahead off the pier and and into deep water.  With no warning.  It doesn't even know that the pier, the safe territory, has ended and unfathomable depths are ahead.  Uncharted territory.

Also, unlike the picture above, there is no lighthouse to warn of shallow water, rocks, or other dangers. To guide us from danger to safety.

In the journey of trauma, especially since so few people understand it - unless they've embarked on the journey themselves or are walking with one who is - the journey is largely based on trial and error.  Stumbling into deep water i.e. extreme fatigue, stuttering, memory loss, loss of cognitive skills, balance issues, et al. and then working with each affect individually to find a solution.  Rest.  Right brain activity.  Going out with someone rather than alone.  Staying inside where it's safe.  Determining who are the safe bears in the den.  And, most importantly, who are not.  Finding out what works - and what doesn't.

I was suddenly plunged into such a time on my journey during the latter half of 2012.  Unexpectedly.  I didn't even see the cliff (or the end of the pier) until I had unknowingly stepped off it and found myself falling, falling, falling....

A person I had considered safe was going through rough waters of their own - and started lashing out at me.  Hurtful words.  Words that caused significant re-injury to an already fragile psyche.

Words like:  "After all you don't have cancer."  "You turn everything around to yourself."  "I don't think you can go an hour without using the words 'I', 'me' or 'my'.  (I dare you to try it.  Since our worldview begins with ourselves and radiates outward, this is an impossible task - especially (a) in the middle of a shopping trip and (b) when the other person is not following the same guidelines).

This ushered in a whole new phase of re-injury and trauma, depression, which as day followed day began to resemble brain injury.  During this time, I was following a blog about a young girl in our area who had been hit by a truck and her journey through physical recovery from the injuries and also from the brain injury caused by the impact.  As I read the blog, I began to see some (slight) similarities between this girl and her journey toward regaining what she had lost and my journey.  She often felt overwhelmed when re-learning skills.  Re-learning skills, i.e. therapy, would leave her so exhausted that she would have to take numerous naps during the day.  She would become overwhelmed with the task at home.  Irritability followed.  Frustration at not being able to do the things that she used to do easily.  Etc.  And, also, not understanding why the truck had hit her.  Why she had been traumatized.

Going out for a short time left me exhausted.  Trying to plan a meal or go grocery shopping left me overwhelmed.  I stayed home in my safe place more and more.  My life constricted by the sensory and other overload imposed on me by the re-injury, the re-traumatization.

Brain injury?  Was it possible that I had sustained something similar to a brain injury through the trauma?

I broached the subject with my therapist who said that trauma creates chaos in the brain.

Chaos in the brain.  Who would've thunk it?  Not me.  Not the people who inflicted the various traumas on me.  Nor the people walking with me.

As I walk through this particular phase of the journey, a phase in which my cognitive skills go up and down on any given day; a phase where words sometimes dessert me and I resemble a mentally deficient person; a phase where the physical affects such as extreme fatigue, lack of balance, etc. are still there, I'm learning to go with the flow.  To embrace life as it presents itself in my current circumstances.  To enjoy what I still have.  And to value those who have chosen to walk with me.  Those who have not given up on me as the journey progresses.

Once again, thank you to all those who are walking with me on the journey.  Helping me up when I fall.   You are my lighthouses.  The light shining in and illuminating the darkness giving me hope when all seems hopeless.

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God bless you.

Until next time....