No, not till the end of my job. But till the first day of the iccon (deliberately misspelled) workshop I am attending the week of June 3-8. I need to start preparing, with meditation, prayer, fasting, and confession. How wonderful! At the workshop, I intend to write down every little step, prayer, thought and feeling. I want to be able to do this independently or in community with others – without the endless need for further instruction.
I have threatened to have an iccon blog which would not be associated with this blog or any other, but maybe this time I will really do it. I might actually use my full name! It would be so helpful to have photos of each and every single little step. A journal of the journey through the process of iccon-wrriting.
Went to my former/future workplace yesterday and met with several people. Do you have any idea how wonderful it is to be treated like a manager after 17 months of being treated like a not-particularly-bright line staff? Maybe describing as being treated as a “manager” is not the best description. Credible, knowledgeable, holder of institutional memory, possessor of skills that are needed and appreciated. Maybe these are better descriptors. I just have 21 more days at my current job. I swore I wasn’t going to count days, but I have found that I am doing it anyway. I can’t seem to resist it.
Yesterday I talked with one of the few friends I have made in my new job. I told her about the senile remark, and the “f*** off” note and some of the other “highlights” of my relationship with my boss. She asked me how I failed to mention these things before. I told her I couldn’t talk about it without crying. And then I did what I always do with mental health professionals, I told her I wasn’t trying to get “free therapy” (she is a psychologist), she told me she WOULD act the therapist for a moment and tell me that the more I talk about it, the less likely I will be to cry. I have to be very careful.
There is a fine and frequently invisible line between my story and their story. I can’t tell people inside my work circle about the abuse without also telling her story, and doing serious damage to her reputation. I have shared my story with some people I trust, being very careful they are trustworthy. It has always struck me as odd that when telling the awful truth about a situation, it can appear to people that you are “saying horrible things about a person.” I have horrible things to say about my boss, unfortunately, they are true. It is just the facts ma’am. I don’t call her names or judge her. I just report that I have a boss who said “you look like you’re senile,” who put a note on my desk saying “f*** off,” who insists that I need to do many, many, many things that are so far beyond my job it is incredible – but when evaluating me dinged me for “poor boundaries.”
In talking with one of my dearest friends, who is not an alcoholic, about the program last week, I explained the steps to her. I told her about the steps around resentments and what a miracle they have been in my life. And then told her that I will likely write inventory on my boss. Once I leave I will do that. It will be safe, because it will be OVER.
Today I am at home on sick leave for a reason I don’t care to disclose. This afternoon I think I may walk up the two miles from my house to the church up the hill with the beautiful outdoor stations of the cross. I will sit and pray the rosary there. Calm. Calm. Calm.