Another (un)lovely surprise
Well, isn’t this a lovely morning? (It really is. It’s about 78 out there, sunny, bluest skies ever, very slight cool breeze and not a hint of humidity. Perfect weather. Absolutely perfect!). I woke up feeling refreshed and rested and the dewy morning air filling my room….was so lovely….then I remembered that I had to open some mail I didn’t really want to see.
You see, when I left my last role I was pretty much exiled by the bitches who were my coworkers (and called themselves my ‘friends’) for the last five years of life. Through that time I was diagnosed with cPTSD, anxiety, depression, OCD and an attachment disorder. I went through some very hard therapy and pulled myself back up to standing, somehow, while successfully holding that full
time position. Then, the pain started to get overwhelming. I was in agony suddenly, bilateral sciatica hit that lasted a year, I was in such pain I couldn’t sit, stand, lie down….I cried every single day. I fought through a gazillion meds, most of which made me throw up constantly and feel like death. I developed bleeding ulcers, puked daily, couldn’t keep anything down for months…nothing touched the pain either so I had to constantly deal with that too. If you’ve been with me for a while you’ll remember some of this. It was the hardest five years of my life so far, and that’s saying something.
Anyway – shouldn’t let myself stray too far from the point. I struggled. Of course, I didn’t tell anyone about the mental health issues and the pain was kept quiet too until it was too obvious to hide anymore. When that happened I turned to my ‘friends’ and asked for help…I needed someone to understand what I was going through and they all pretended to care so well that I fell for it. I remember after I finally found out what was going on with my spine et al, I wrote a quick email to the group with the title: “to my friends” and explained that I wanted them to know how much I appreciated their concern and love. I told them the news and they all answered with hugs and concern…it was comforting and I thought they understood, somewhat.
Of course, I had to tell my boss, the director. He also feigned concern and told me he was behind me, that he was looking out for me and not to worry. I thought I’d done things the right way around this time…being honest about how hard things were was kind of freeing for me even though it felt like admitting failure.
Fast forward six months to the point where I was struggling so hard I could barely make it out of bed each morning. I was in agony, throwing up every few hours, constantly battling terrible diarrhea whenever I put anything into my body including plain water. I didn’t talk about it much, didn’t bring it up or complain all the time, but when I needed a day off to recuperate I was honest about it, again thinking they understood.
When I was told about the layoff at the end of January half of the staff came to see how I was coping. My closest coworker instantly voiced concern over how much of my work she’d have to pick up before even considering me or how I felt and others came with hugs and words of support. The rest ignored the news and didn’t say a word to me about it. No one really helped with any suggestions on where to find work and not one person asked how I was feeling, physically, under all the stress. But whatever right? I’m quite used to this sort of behaviour from people.
When I left they set up the standard “luncheon” they always do when someone leaves the department, even the summer students have one when they go back to school. They booked it for my second week here and I ended up cancelling with them (politely and properly, I didn’t just avoid them as I’m sometimes prone to do) explaining that I was now in an entry-level job where time away from the desk was difficult to obtain. We had a huge electronic switchover when I started here as well making me even more needed on the floor. The old department understood, I thought and rather than wait for me they sent out a card signed by them all (I assume, I didn’t read it). When the card arrived I had an instant panic reaction (I’d failed, they’d witnessed and so I figured they all hated me now) and I put it off to the side, unwilling to open it right then.
The thing sat on my desk for a few weeks and on Monday, the queen bitch over there emailed me a terse note asking if I’d received the card and gift certificate they sent me. She said she had been responsible for organizing it (they all love taking as much credit as possible, for everything) and wanted to be sure it wasn’t lost in the mail. I replied and said I’d not been to the post office in a while and that I’d check. My rural mail box isn’t very big and they often hold mail at the post office down the street so it wasn’t a total fib. I told her I’d stop and check and let her know if it was there.
I got home on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights and although I picked the envelope up I couldn’t quite bring myself to open it. I didn’t want to read their fake affections and really didn’t want to see if anyone had not signed the card. I always did so for others there and always tossed in $10-$20 dollars as a contribution for a gift. Because there were 14 of us, it always made for a nice going away gift for colleagues. I didn’t expect anything from them because I’d ducked out on lunch so I felt bad and knew I’d have to open it eventually and then thank the group for their kindness. I decided to wait until this morning so I could quickly open it and run out the door, armed with the proper info to thank them.
***Now, please understand, I do appreciate any effort made and I hate to sound ungrateful but I can’t get around this in my head***
Inside the card, which I did not read this morning, was a gift certificate for a series of local restaurants valued at $50.
First. That means they put in less than 5$ a piece, but, I don’t want to complain about that. I mean, they always made a big show of how much money they gathered for the students and such but I must not have been as well liked. Surprise.
Second. They ALL know, very well, that D and I never go out to dinner. I tell people all the time that D and I have only actually been out on a ‘date’ night three times since Colt’s birth because we have no evening babysitter and never have. Two of those three times were for Christmas dinner/celebrations with them all at our bosses house.
So they know me pretty well. They know I nearly never go out to eat and when I do, it’s with Colt and D. The restaurants the card is for are all “fine dining” so the $50 will buy one meal, or thereabout, but I’m not going to take Colt to a place like that. We would much rather enjoy an all day breakfast at a greasy spoon diner…I used to talk about our love for doing that all the time. 😦
In the end, they thoughtlessly bought me something I won’t use and didn’t even bother to toss in more than coffee change. That is how loved I was.
So now I guess I can add them all to the list of people who don’t like me at all. It includes my foster parents, my foster siblings, my extended foster family’s relatives, every guy I’ve ever dated and broke up with, every friend I have had in life, all of my ex coworkers (maybe there’s a few who still feel neutral but even the ones who I got along with really well stopped answering my email years ago). Am I that much of a failure? I have M writing bullshit about me, friends from the past threatening me…. I mean, what the fuck? Am I THAT difficult to be around? (Don’t answer that if you think you might know – I’m having a hard time not letting this affect me deeply).
My confidence is not strong in the first place. I wish I could not care about things like this.
About GrainneMy name is Grainne. This blog has been with me for years now and has served as a journal, a confessional, an outlet and a place for me to create and express my love of life. Thank you for stopping by and for becoming a part of this life long journey of mine. I appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to do so. :)
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