Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Post Workplace Bullying: Chronic lingerings from the abuse

A random picture from my trip to Belize last winter
Yesterday, I wrote about "If I could do anything post workplace abuse, what would I do?" in which I wrote that I would travel, take pictures and write.  In that order; however, all rolled into one ball.  One package.

What is holding me back from realizing that dream?  From making this a reality.  I have the vision.  I have the skills.  I have the equipment i.e. the camera and the laptop.   I'm pretty far along on the road to recovery.  Or at least, I like to think that I am.

So what is holding me back from making my dream a reality?

In short:  the lingering affects of the workplace abuse.

Let's face it, I'm not the same person I was before this all happened.  Or even during.

I used to be a high energy person.  Extroverted, even.  I used to be highly articulate.  Not any more.

The two back-to-back stress breakdowns I experienced while still employed left me initially in an acute state of disrepair.

Some months later, the acute became chronic.  I still, three years and counting, work with the chronic, lingering affects of the bullying, the brutal stress on a daily basis.  Each time I feel like I'm getting stronger and should be able to start reaching for my dreams, something comes along to knock me down - again.  Recently, it's been the on-going, unresolvable situation with the mail which knocked me for a loop because it triggered.

Another place (the jetties at South Padre Island, Texas), another time.  Before.
I'm not the same person I was.  Physically.  Emotionally.  Spiritually.  Financially.

The two aspects that have been impacted positively are emotionally and spiritually.

The two that have been impacted negatively are physically and financially.  Both of which play crucial parts in my plans - or should I say attempts - to rebuild my life.  I no longer have the physical or financial resources to do the things I want to do.  I don't have the money to buy a plane ticket and fly to wherever.  Physically, once I get there, I would probably have to lie low and rest.

You've probably heard the saying:  the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

Well, there you have it in a nutshell.  My spirit is willing.  Very willing.  It can think of all sorts of ideas and feel strong enough to carry them out.

But the flesh, unfortunately, has other ideas.  It isn't able to carry out what the spirit dreams up.  It keeps going on "strike" at inopportune times.  It demands naps.  It gets shaky.  The mind still has affects that crop up regularly.  Confusion, poor cognitive skills - meaning sometimes I can't think straight or get a complete sentence out of my mouth.

With all these things going on in my mind and body at will - their will, not mine - how can I even think of committing myself to being some place at a specific time and date to take pictures.  Especially, how can I even think of going on a trip with a group of people where I'm not there as a participant but in an official capacity as their blogger and photographer?  Would I be able to fulfill their expectations satisfactorily?  Would I be able to fulfil my own expectations?

*******

The other day, hubby took me on a day trip to a place we've been before:  Hamilton mountain - which is not really a mountain per se but is part of the Niagara escarpment.  There's a park up there overlooking the industrial area of Hamilton (Ontario) and Lake Ontario.  It's a great spot for picture taking.


We had a great time, but had to cut our outing short as I was getting tired.  By the time, we got back home I was more than ready for a nap.  In fact, functioning was out of the question until I got that nap.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get "well" - meaning well enough to maintain a normal routine which involves going outside my house, my safe place, interacting with others?  Even earning money?  Or am I doomed to stay on this iffy, on again-off again road?

I get frustrated regularly as I walk this road I never asked to go on.  The grain of sand in my shoe wears me out.

Yet every so often, I see glimmers of hope shining through.  Those glimmers of hope are what I cling to when I have a relapse and things go dark again.  They keep me going.


Until tomorrow....

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