a six month delayed post

Yesterday was awful.
I’ve tried, I really have. But I’m fairly certain I’ll be let go from The Cubicle Farm if not today, then sometime when I come back from vacation.
And you know what? I’m sad only because of what happened yesterday.

I had a massive panic attack after speaking to my manager about, well it ended up being everything. Come to find out that she claims she had “no idea” why I wouldn’t want to work with that guy who harassed me. Really?? He bullied and intimidated me from across the room and made it so if I see that he’s going to the bathroom or break area I DON’T. I WAIT until he’s gone, but she didn’t know why??
And then “you ask and comment too much”…I’m sorry, but at the end of any meeting, has anyone ever said “OK! No questions, right? I’ve explained everything perfectly and no one needs to make sure they understand everything? Right?”…NO that NEVER happens, they ALWAYS ask “Does anyone have any comments, questions or concerns?” and if I do, I ASK. But apparently that’s “monopolizing the time of my teammates” who, ASK EACH OTHER AND DISCUSS AT LENGTH WHAT THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND AFTER THE MEETING IS OVER INSTEAD OF ASKING THE PERSON WHO LEAD THE MEETING THE QUESTIONS. That just seems idiotic to me. It’s all idiotic and backwards.
So after over 2 hours of finding out that anything AND I MEAN ANYTHING (like, asking a question?!?!) has painted me with a brush I didn’t earn, I broke. I had my second really major panic attack and found myself on the floor in the conference room corner heaving like a marathon runner trying to breathe through a straw and crying so hard I couldn’t see.
They almost called the paramedics. I probably should have let them, but they would’ve found some way to make ME pay for it.
I’d managed to ask for my purse and my beverage, thankfully I have been keeping my xanax ON HAND at The Cubicle Farm because I’ve been having to take it ALMOST DAILY. I managed to get my medication down and my mind started returning. My skin was still on fire, but I was starting to have my wits.
But I couldn’t just go back to my desk. The thought of sitting around people who not only don’t care but are willing to try and railroad me was too much. I could feel another panic attack on the brink.
So I went home sick. That’s probably going to put me at the “point” mark so they’ll fire me.
I’m only sad because I put in nearly 10 years of my life there, good years, the majority of my 30s. I’m smart and capable and passionate. But I’m not a sheep. And wolves like sheep, so they hated me.
And like an abused animal, I internalized it and tried to conform and come back. Well, that’s over now.
Fire me over points, fire me over this ridiculously trumped up FB charge; I’m finished feeling suffocated and insulted when all I’m doing is my job.
In true form, as I write this SERIOUSLY LONG POST I’m debating whether or not to even bother going in today. But since I’m my mother and father’s daughter with a ridiculously great work ethic, I think I’m going in.


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