I Will Not Suffer In Silence

Because I had to put together a bunch of paperwork for the Labor Board yesterday (my phone interview is in a week!), which entailed printing out chat logs and emails with management to prove my case to the Labor Board that discrimination had taken place, naturally last night I had a dream/nightmare about the company that fired me.

I was at my desk, trying to get some work done so I could just leave for the day. The director of support looked at me uneasily but I don’t think he said anything. As I was finishing up for the day, I realised suddenly that I’d been fired days ago…but yet I kept coming back to work because they needed me and they knew it, and that’s why people were looking at me uneasily - I just wouldn’t go away¹.
As soon as I had this realisation, I abruptly stopped working and began to clear off my desk. I realised then that I had a lot of my personal stuff at the job², and that I’d need to stay very late after work boxing everything up. Good thing it was already after hours and everyone had gone home. I began to go through the darkened office, looking for boxes and newspaper to wrap my more fragile stuff in. As I was near the front door to the building, someone walking on the sidewalk outside³ glanced in at me furiously going through boxes and newspaper, while everything around me looked to be in a toppled mess. I remember thinking, “Oh crap, she probably thinks I broke in and is now off to call the police.” I hurried to a back room to look for more boxes.
Suddenly, the place turned into my father’s old house in Livonia - the one he grew up in full time, and then my brother and I grew up in, on weekends visiting dad. The place was a mess - boxes and garbage and stuff everywhere.4 As I was packing up my stuff, I began to notice … what the hell? CAT POOP! Giant dog-sized logs and curls of cat poop… everywhere? And my cats scampering about! I’d have to clean that up, too, before I could leave!!! Ugh!
I went to the wetbar and sat down and began packing some of my stuff up. That’s when my friend nateM showed up and sat down on the arm of the small loveseat in the wetbar, to my left. He began talking with me, and then my dad and his girlfriend5 came home. I apologised for the mess, and my dad announced that it was their anniversary, so I had to leave immediately so they could ‘celebrate’. I began scooping up my boxes and paper to exit the house, and then I woke up.

Good times, eh? I always hate having the work-related dreams after I’ve been let go, but alas, it’s what happens every time. I was doing fine with only having had the one dream, til I had to go and dig up all the paperwork for the Labor Board.

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¹ This part of the dream happened because I had emailed a coworker asking if they’d be a witness for me to the Labor Board, because they too suffer from a health condition for which they are being harrassed. They wrote back in terrified manner: “I don’t think that I’d be any help regarding being a witness to anything. Remember, we had different schedules, days off and I wasn’t around when anyone from HR or management spoke to you about the absentee situation. To be frank, and I hope you understand, although no one at [the company] has ever given me reason to fear retaliation, I have had jobs where such situations have ended up in a bad way for me. 2 mortgages, a car payment and a heap of bills makes me try my best to fly right under the radar. I’d be happy to be a reference if a new employer calls, but there’s no union at [the company] to fall back on if someone thinks that I’m slinging mud.”
I have a heap of bills, credit card debt, a car insurance payment, and rent, and the company fired me. If I don’t pay my dad back the money I owe, I can make one month of bills before unemployment money sets in. And what if the money is delayed or denied? What if I can’t get another job right away? THAT is the fear. That is what keeps people in the jobs that abuse them, because they are afraid of being kicked out of their homes and cars. I don’t know if this person’s spouse works for a living and can help out financially like my man can help me. I understand The Fear because I’ve had The Fear - why else would I have stayed in so many shitty jobs for so long? But this is ridiculous. It has GOT to stop. People HAVE to get control of their lives and STOP letting money rule them and drive them into an early grave.
² This is actually not true. I stopped leaving personal artifacts at work right away after my first dotcom job let me go in 1998. I’ve never fully settled into a job since then, because I didn’t trust them to keep me, and I was right. I’ve had 14 jobs in 10 years, with eleven of those jobs being in the dotcom field.
³ There is no public sidewalk right in front of the main entrance - only an employee parking lot.
4 A total exaggeration of events yesterday - I was helping a friend clean house yesterday and it was nowhere near what my dad’s house in the dream looked like.
5 My dad is already remarried, has been for several years, and his anniversary isn’t til March, so I don’t know what that was about. ;)

Today is the one-year anniversary of when I started with the company that just fired me for having a health condition. In a way I’m disappointed that I didn’t make it to the one year mark, but then I realise that for them, my one year would not have been recognised until February 19, 2008, when they hired me from the temping agency.

As is usual for me after quitting or being let go from a job, I had a dream about the old job:

I had arrived at work with a clear belief that I had only been fired for one day, and that I could return on Monday. However, when I got to work and was standing in line with my coworkers, waiting to be let into the building, reality dawned - I had misunderstood - I was fired not only for Friday but for evermore from that company. I felt embarrassed, so I did what I always do in such a situation - I acted like I was completely in my right anyway (Virgos don’t like to admit they are wrong). I continued to wait in line. When it came time for me to go in, I realised I didn’t have my security key. I turned to Ben, who was standing behind me, and asked if we could go in at the same time because I’d forgotten my key. He looked hesitant but said ’sure’ and we went in together.
Once inside, I climbed up the stairs to the loft area and went right to my desk, which was situated in the open loft space, overlooking the first floor below. As I approached my desk, I saw my black purse sitting on my chair. At this point I’d probably be considered a security threat if I sat down at the desk and pretended nothing had happened to me, so I kneeled down beside the chair and began filling up my purse with the personal artifacts I’d left behind when I was fired on Friday. I noticed two black cassette tapes on the desk - I’d loaned them out to coworkers who had given them back once they found out I was fired. I glanced at the cassette tape labels and was embarrassed at what I’d loaned out - it was old stuff, from my high school days, so it was Top40 style music.
My old boss approached, and told me she would cut me my last paycheck on the spot. I was thankful and excited - didn’t she know the company had already cut me my last check? HAH! Like I was going to admit this! I took the check happily and finished cleaning out my desk, which was more like a primary school desk with the enclosed metal shelf underneath it.
That’s all I remember.

Offbeat issues in the dream:

• The guy standing behind me in the dream is, in real life, my friend Ben, not a coworker. I have never worked with him. However, there were two Ben’s at that company, so perhaps my brain was superimposing my friend’s face over one of the Bens I worked with?
• In real life, my desk was not in the open loft area, it was in the corner in a cubicle shared with two other coworkers, next to the office of the director of support.
• The black purse in question is something I used to own in college. I think I gave it away a few years ago. The thing is, in real life, most of my belongings were boxed up and handed to me on Friday on the way out. The only thing they forgot was my cheapo insulated lunch bag, which I don’t care about. That my old purse and more belongings appeared in the dream bodes well I think to the case I’m pleading to the labor board.
• The embarrassment with the cassette tapes with the Top40 music was a throwback to earlier yesterday, when I had my iPod on ‘random play’, and a neighbor came over to discuss Halloween costumes. The iPod had been doing great with some Industrial music, and then suddenly a Stevie Nicks song came on and I got all embarrassed. No reason I should have, I confess my love for Stevie Nicks. ;) But there it was. I got embarrassed. The music style just did not fit with what had been playing. Bad DJ iPod! ;)
• When my boss approached, it was the first boss I had at the company, not the new boss I’d had for a week before being fired. Also, to be clear, neither the new boss nor the old boss fired me - it was HR who fired me because of the recorded absences, and the only way HR found out immediately that I’d been absent is that with the new policy, I had to turn in a doctor’s note upon my return. My new boss was clearly upset and pissed off to be losing me, and she and I agreed that my old boss would be equally upset.

There seems to be a lot of embarrassment showing through in my dream. I am embarrassed to have been fired, yet at the same time, I was fired for the reason I wanted to be fired for. I was harassed about my health condition for months by those assholes, to great emotional expense. And the abject depression, coming home crying - all of that started within my first month on the job because of how badly they treat people in general - monitoring your screen as you work - there’s no trust, no love there.
It’s similar in all call center environments. I will never go back to call centers again. EVER. I promised this last year and became afraid when good work wasn’t showing up. Well this time I’m going to make good on my promise. Just like my man did. He worked in a call center with me back in 2002 and vowed never to go back to that hellish work again. And he made good on his promise, and he’s doing well. He can do it - I can do it.

One thing I did like about the dream - I was cut a second check. This is a good omen for me. I hope things work out the way I want for Round II.

On Friday during the weekly one-on-one meeting with my boss, she told me that she’d checked with HR and found out that they do not allow people to work from home for any reason.

Then she said that I am in danger of losing my job if I miss any more time. I asked if she understood that I have a health condition. She said yes and said that HR thought I’d be cured by having surgery. She said she continues to fight for me to stay on, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to convince the HR department.
I told my boss that I was due for menses this coming Sunday, and that likely I’d be out of work again for part of the coming week. She said the only thing she could do is keep trying to make a case to keep me to stay. She again raved about my numbers and the fact that I’m still in the top half of the department call ratings.

That day, I spent half of my lunch on the phone with my boyfriend, discussing my impending firing. He suggested I call the labor board. I did, and they booked me for an appointment. That made me feel A LOT better about my situation. That company is not going to get off easy.

I spent the rest of my lunch hour writing to my boss. I realised that most of our discussions about my disease and time off work had been oral conversations. I want this shit in writing. Part of what I asked her was,

“Just to sum up what we talked about this morning: I informed management from even before day one of my permanent hiring that I have a health issue (Endometriosis), which I was having surgery for. I was told that [the company] was waiting for me to have surgery before hiring me. I interviewed the week before my surgery. I informed everyone that my disease is incurable. I informed everyone that the surgery might help with the pain. Since April, I have been informed by you that HR thought that the surgery would cure me – do I have that right? And I was also told since April that continued absences post-op will be a threat to my continued employment. I just want to know for certain – if I have to miss more work this week (because menses is due on Sunday), is it certain that I could be terminated as of next week? Or do I have a month left where HR will decide whether to keep me on? I need to be prepared and let my partner know ASAP what my financial situation will be like.”

She replied with,

“You are correct. [The company] was under the impression that you were going to be cured after the surgery and it is unfortunate that is not the case. Unfortunately, continued absences is a threat to your employment. You have 1/2 PTO left for this period until July, and if you are in real pain next week and cannot come in, you will be borrowing time from [the company]. We will continue to review the situation with HR, but there is no definite date if/when you will be terminated.”

This weekend, I went over my monthly expenses with my man. He says he can support me when I get fired.

I had a nightmare this morning whereby I was starting a new job at some clothing factory. I went in to work with a basket of some of my own clothes, which were for some reason bright green tie-dye… and I carried a big ladder with me in to this job.
I was there for all of ten minutes and received the worst demeaning treatment from the new boss. I was talked down to and even scoffed at for asking simple questions. The manager was a blonde barbie doll type bitch, as was most of management.
So I up and left and spent the day walking around the mall that this factory was attached to. When I came back at the end of the day to retrieve my belongings, the management wanted to know where I’d been and began to berate me. I told them I wouldn’t stand for such aweful treatment and as I began to say I wasn’t going to stay on as their employee, I was held down and forcibly tattooed below my bottom lip. It was a circle with some design in it which I now forget and in it was a tracking device so they couldn’t lose sight of me on my breaks anymore. I told them I’d sue, because I never consented to this shit. I fled the workplace after shouting at length with the management and telling any co-worker within earshot what had happened to me. They were too afraid to run and liberate themselves. I fled and management fled after me. A car chase ensued in which they tried to kill me. I somehow lost them while driving a comandeered tractor trailor, which I ditched down a road off the highway. Next thing I know, I’m being taught by some guy how to clean up after a sewage truck on the side of the highway while looking around anxiously for the goddamned killer management from the job I’d just fled.

Last night I went dancing with my man and a friend. Right before I went dancing, george arrived. The cramps were light at first and became more moderate throughout the night, but remained manageable. At the end of the night, I sat down for a moment before we left the venue, and for some reason that spurred the cramps into high action. The car ride home was grueling, and I took Tylenol 3 when I got home and went right to bed.

Today I have spent the day bleeding like a stuck pig and doped up on Tylenol 3.

I know I’ll likely miss work tomorrow, and stress over whether I’ll be fired or not.

I will be selling CDs and DVDs, a Mac G3 and CRT monitors - let me know if you are interested. I will be making a list of those items in a moment.

So george was due Tuesday and never showed up as far as bleeding goes. But he had me bedridden most of Wednesday, and cramping at work on Thursday and Friday.
Friday also started the ass pain.

With the hormone therapy, I had one month free of george and ass pain and all those nasties related to that bastard, but at what cost? I nearly ended my life. I won’t try a different hormone again, just to go through the gradual brain changes that I don’t even know are ganging up, which make me want to kill myself.
No. Twice in my life is two times too many on the damned hormones.

So I wait for george to show up. I hold my breath that the pain I’ve had so far is the extent of pain I’ll endure, and that the surgery really helped me. But truth be told, my gut tells me that once the bleeding starts, it’ll be the same hell as it ever was.

I know I do not have any other choice in life, so I would rather have that hell than be suicidal.
Here is where I get all with the reincarnation again:
This is what I signed up for. I did this to myself. I can blame my mom for bringing me into this world with her shitty Appalachian genes, but it’s not her fault. I chose her to be my mom because I had shit to learn. And boy howdy am I still learning it.

Why do we continue on once we have an inkling of what we’ve done? When we’ve realised that we’ve come here to learn a lesson - when we finally Awaken?
Well, not all of us do continue on. Some of us say we’re not up to it, that we can’t handle it AGAIN, that it wasn’t quite the mission we signed up for.
I’ve done that route and pressed the reset button in so many lives that I’ve developed a strong stubborn streak to just get through it because it has GOT to be better than last time. It has GOT to propell me to something better. This is how I got through high school. This is how I got through college. This is how I got through living with my mom and brother, living in the “unibomber shack” as I call it:

And I credit my dad for this strength. I chose him for that reason.

Before I leave this incarnation, I will have learned how to get past the bad karma I create, instead of just creating more, saying ‘BAH!’ and pressing the reset button when I can’t handle the pressure anymore. I will take this into the next incarnation. I can do this. And having the pain I have is part of this lesson.

Now, all that psycho hippie woo woo shit(™ Justin) aside, I often wonder if the mindset I have created on this whole reincarnation thing stems from my fundamentalist upbringing.

People who are raised in cults (and christian fundamentalism IS a cult) often end up being susceptible to other cultish mindsets throughout life, even after they’ve escaped.
So I wonder if after being raised with the idea that menstruation is punishment because of Eve’s curiosity - because she took the forbidden apple and was punished by G*d to bleed monthly forever more… I wonder if I have developed the idea that I’m here in this incarnation to endure the pain of endometriosis is an extension of my fundamentalist upbringing. Enduring == punishment == karma and all that.

People raised in cults often need strict rules and structure to replace what they had, once they’ve escaped said cult, otherwise they feel lost, helpless and vulnerable. I am no exception. Therefore, I have wondered if finding Tibetan Buddhist principles appealing in the mid 1990’s, along with Wicca (laugh all you want, but I fired Wicca by 1999), is just a natural next step in recovering from the upbringing I had, and perhaps there IS no next life, and the idea of reincarnation is just as silly as all of Christianity’s ideas.

And if it is, then why am I still here, dealing with job after shitty job, financial instability since birth, and 21 years of wrenching menstrual pain? Why not just say ‘Aww SCREW IT’ and press the reset button?

Because I’m too attached to people, places and things.

And well if I’m going to become a good little Buddhist, I’m going to eventually have to learn how to not be attached, and yet enjoy just being.

This is the part where you think of ME and BUDDHISM in the same sentence, and the next thought through your head should be of Edina from Absolutely Fabulous.

ME? A Buddhist, sweetie darling? Chanting as we speak? I’m every bit as hypocritical as Edina. Every bit.

I guess the first step is Knowing.

And knowing is half the battle. :p

Annnnnnyway….. back to george. Yesterday I had a sudden hypoglycemic attack. I realised that last month while on the hormones, I didn’t have such attacks. So I know for sure that what I read in one of my endometriosis books is true - that the hormone-rich uterus can screw up one’s endocrine system and cause hypoglycemia around the time of menses. It’s proven now for me. I’m going to have to learn to like all the hippie foods recommended in the endometriosis books.
On that note, the lady who lives in the unit directly behind ours is a practicing health coach, now. I’m scheduled to meet with her next week for a free health consultation and get dietary tips. I will once again be trying to manage my pain through diet. I can do this.
I will also be joining the gym my man attends, and I am going to find a yoga class to sign up with. I can do this.

I can do this because I can’t go on just waiting for the pain to hit and overmedicating with dangerous prescription meds. I’ve wrecked my body enough over the years with medication.

Don’t get me wrong, now. Underneath all this ‘can do’ attitude, I’m still screaming at the world, “IT’S NOT FAIR!!!!”

But merely screaming and pounding fists never really gets one anywhere, does it?