Munchsized Rants - Victim
Warning: Trigger words. This entry includes mention of rape. No details though, I promise.
This is a long one, and I apologize for that. There's a lot I need to work through though, so please bare with me.
I've never considered myself racist. When I was young, I had been so sheltered that I thought racism was an archaic backwards logic that had died away sometime during the 1960s. So the one and only time I was ever slapped by that word by someone (other than a pissed off customer who couldn't get a thousand dollar loan on a fifty dollar piece of gold), it hit me like a ton of bricks. It came from a co-worker when I was a security officer. I was attempting to correct her on one of the many small rules she had a tendency of breaking. This was also a number of months after she had asked me out of the blue if I was a member of the Eastern Star (an Illuminati reference) and essentially the silent treatment. I take the accusation of racism very seriously, since it's something that absolutely disgusts me, so I called HR about it.
The only example she could give during our meeting with my boss' boss and HR lead was a mention I made of skin color while describing a perpetrator- something I would have mentioned had they been white, black, or aquamarine. She claimed there were other times, but couldn't recall them. I took the time to bring up the countless rules she had been breaking, including using her cellphone at the desk and refusing to take the site phone with her when she left for lunch. My boss' boss cleared the air on those rules for her so there would be no more 'misunderstandings' and asked that we have a fresh start. We both agreed and went back to work. By the following week, she was once more using her cell phone at the desk, and two weeks later a few more of the less obvious breaks in the rules came up. Added to some emotional abuse I won't go into here, and things were worse than before.
Last month though, after a very childish outburst from her with guests in the lobby, I'd had enough. I called the head of HR requesting once more for a change of site, then emailed my boss' boss the list of grievances, making it clear that I understood he had his hands tied in a lot of this and that I appreciate all he tried to do, but I couldn't take the workplace abuse anymore. I would be working on my resume, and I would keep him up to date if I find a job, including a two weeks' notice.
A couple weeks later, I received an email for a meeting the very next day. I felt an odd combination of dread and relief- the former because meetings did nothing to help last time and I wasn't looking forward to more false accusations, the latter because maybe something more was finally being done. I scrambled to arrange for a ride while my co-worker, with me cc'ed, wriggled her way out of the meeting despite a caution that another meeting wouldn't be able to be arranged for another week and she wouldn't be allowed to go to work until then.
I was terminated that next day, due to a break in protocol they had a complaint about. I won't go into too many details, but it was something I had done a dozen times before and never had complaints over. A fine print in the employee handbook, if you will. I was so stunned that I didn't fight, didn't argue. I was too focused on fighting back my tears, on holding onto some last shred of dignity that I just didn't think.
For the past two weeks I've been struggling against my depression. I had never been fired before, which only adds salt to the wound. In some ways I'd been in denial. As much as I enjoy intellectual arguments, I hate conflicts. I refused to consider the real reason I was fired despite what Spirit was telling me. Refused to think I could have been a victim.
Yet there's someone I used to work under who is very well respected in the company. He tried to do some digging because the company is a bit of an open book to him, yet they refused to tell him why I was fired. He was filling in at the location Spirit currently works at, and inquired what had happened. When Spirit told him the technical reason I was fired, he immediately called BS, stating that not only should that have not been a reason to fire someone, but there should have been no reason for them not to tell him. Add to that the fact that just this weekend we learned a friend of mine was given my co-worker's shift at the same site- something she swore up and down she would never give up, and Spirit was connecting the dots. Yesterday, papers from Unemployment came in requesting the reason for the termination. I asked Spirit, almost jokingly, if I should put retaliation, and he agreed vehemently. I muttered a few excuses, and just let it all slide for the rest of the night. This led to our conversation this morning.
Spirit skyped me to contact R&L, and I tried to argue it down. I stated the same reasons my boss' boss gave- that I had broken protocol in the employee handbook and that there's nothing I can do. Yet he pushed, telling me what he had said from the start. That this looks more and more like retaliation, or at the very least that they just wanted to wash their hands of the whole situation. That the only way they might have felt they could fire her without being called racist was to fire me as well. He kept pushing, and the more he pushed, the more my anxiety turned to apprehension. The more I tried to argue, the more my apprehension turned to a painfully familiar fear. The fear of not being believed about something very real. The fear of being called a liar.
The walls crashed down. With a slow dawning horror I realized why I had been in such denial. It wasn't just a dislike of conflict. I had been put into a very difficult situation. If I fight this, will they believe me? Will I be accused of lying, or of being a racist? The exact thought that ran through my head, word for word, was 'Who will believe me openly other than white supremacists?' I wound up curling up on the couch sobbing for a good half hour.
This fear was a familiar enemy of mine. I'm a survivor of rape. I had learned that one of the most effective weapons a rapist has is fear, be it fear for one's life, reputation, or being believed. There are no words to describe how horrible it is that this tool is so effective. I've felt its bite a few times, and its left scars so deep they still can be triggered to this day.
I'm not saying this fear I have now is the same. Yet there are similarities within that hit me so hard those older scars are threatening to rip open. I promised myself years ago I wouldn't allow others to control me with fear anymore. I don't know if I have the strength to fight this though. I know I should, but every time I think of confronting it all, those old scars threatening to rip right open and I crumple.
No. I won't be a victim anymore. I hate that word- it's why I use Survivor instead. I survived, and I will again. I just need to find the fire, the strength. I won't be a victim anymore.
This is a long one, and I apologize for that. There's a lot I need to work through though, so please bare with me.
I've never considered myself racist. When I was young, I had been so sheltered that I thought racism was an archaic backwards logic that had died away sometime during the 1960s. So the one and only time I was ever slapped by that word by someone (other than a pissed off customer who couldn't get a thousand dollar loan on a fifty dollar piece of gold), it hit me like a ton of bricks. It came from a co-worker when I was a security officer. I was attempting to correct her on one of the many small rules she had a tendency of breaking. This was also a number of months after she had asked me out of the blue if I was a member of the Eastern Star (an Illuminati reference) and essentially the silent treatment. I take the accusation of racism very seriously, since it's something that absolutely disgusts me, so I called HR about it.
The only example she could give during our meeting with my boss' boss and HR lead was a mention I made of skin color while describing a perpetrator- something I would have mentioned had they been white, black, or aquamarine. She claimed there were other times, but couldn't recall them. I took the time to bring up the countless rules she had been breaking, including using her cellphone at the desk and refusing to take the site phone with her when she left for lunch. My boss' boss cleared the air on those rules for her so there would be no more 'misunderstandings' and asked that we have a fresh start. We both agreed and went back to work. By the following week, she was once more using her cell phone at the desk, and two weeks later a few more of the less obvious breaks in the rules came up. Added to some emotional abuse I won't go into here, and things were worse than before.
Last month though, after a very childish outburst from her with guests in the lobby, I'd had enough. I called the head of HR requesting once more for a change of site, then emailed my boss' boss the list of grievances, making it clear that I understood he had his hands tied in a lot of this and that I appreciate all he tried to do, but I couldn't take the workplace abuse anymore. I would be working on my resume, and I would keep him up to date if I find a job, including a two weeks' notice.
A couple weeks later, I received an email for a meeting the very next day. I felt an odd combination of dread and relief- the former because meetings did nothing to help last time and I wasn't looking forward to more false accusations, the latter because maybe something more was finally being done. I scrambled to arrange for a ride while my co-worker, with me cc'ed, wriggled her way out of the meeting despite a caution that another meeting wouldn't be able to be arranged for another week and she wouldn't be allowed to go to work until then.
I was terminated that next day, due to a break in protocol they had a complaint about. I won't go into too many details, but it was something I had done a dozen times before and never had complaints over. A fine print in the employee handbook, if you will. I was so stunned that I didn't fight, didn't argue. I was too focused on fighting back my tears, on holding onto some last shred of dignity that I just didn't think.
For the past two weeks I've been struggling against my depression. I had never been fired before, which only adds salt to the wound. In some ways I'd been in denial. As much as I enjoy intellectual arguments, I hate conflicts. I refused to consider the real reason I was fired despite what Spirit was telling me. Refused to think I could have been a victim.
Yet there's someone I used to work under who is very well respected in the company. He tried to do some digging because the company is a bit of an open book to him, yet they refused to tell him why I was fired. He was filling in at the location Spirit currently works at, and inquired what had happened. When Spirit told him the technical reason I was fired, he immediately called BS, stating that not only should that have not been a reason to fire someone, but there should have been no reason for them not to tell him. Add to that the fact that just this weekend we learned a friend of mine was given my co-worker's shift at the same site- something she swore up and down she would never give up, and Spirit was connecting the dots. Yesterday, papers from Unemployment came in requesting the reason for the termination. I asked Spirit, almost jokingly, if I should put retaliation, and he agreed vehemently. I muttered a few excuses, and just let it all slide for the rest of the night. This led to our conversation this morning.
Spirit skyped me to contact R&L, and I tried to argue it down. I stated the same reasons my boss' boss gave- that I had broken protocol in the employee handbook and that there's nothing I can do. Yet he pushed, telling me what he had said from the start. That this looks more and more like retaliation, or at the very least that they just wanted to wash their hands of the whole situation. That the only way they might have felt they could fire her without being called racist was to fire me as well. He kept pushing, and the more he pushed, the more my anxiety turned to apprehension. The more I tried to argue, the more my apprehension turned to a painfully familiar fear. The fear of not being believed about something very real. The fear of being called a liar.
The walls crashed down. With a slow dawning horror I realized why I had been in such denial. It wasn't just a dislike of conflict. I had been put into a very difficult situation. If I fight this, will they believe me? Will I be accused of lying, or of being a racist? The exact thought that ran through my head, word for word, was 'Who will believe me openly other than white supremacists?' I wound up curling up on the couch sobbing for a good half hour.
This fear was a familiar enemy of mine. I'm a survivor of rape. I had learned that one of the most effective weapons a rapist has is fear, be it fear for one's life, reputation, or being believed. There are no words to describe how horrible it is that this tool is so effective. I've felt its bite a few times, and its left scars so deep they still can be triggered to this day.
I'm not saying this fear I have now is the same. Yet there are similarities within that hit me so hard those older scars are threatening to rip open. I promised myself years ago I wouldn't allow others to control me with fear anymore. I don't know if I have the strength to fight this though. I know I should, but every time I think of confronting it all, those old scars threatening to rip right open and I crumple.
No. I won't be a victim anymore. I hate that word- it's why I use Survivor instead. I survived, and I will again. I just need to find the fire, the strength. I won't be a victim anymore.