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Unemployed - Part One

September has always been a great month, largely because our family celebrates six birthdays in one week! Add to that it's the beginning of Fall on either my brother's birthday or mine. September is a great month.

This year. 2023? It was a rough one. Besides additional physical struggles for my sister, September 8th I quit my job. Many of you know a bit about the why, but I'm going to go a little more in depth here - partly so I can be transparent and partly because it is healing for me.

I started this latest job with a renowned attorney in the Rockford/Loves Park/Byron area in April, leaving a job behind where the environment was "frosty" and the attorney I worked with swore like a sailor. Many are able to get past that, but I cringe every time I hear swearing and let me tell you, I cringed all day long every day. There were other major issues, but this isn't about that job.

From day one with this new attorney, I realized it may have been a mistake to come here, but there was no turning back. She was an attorney my former boss who retired (the reason I was looking for new jobs) worked with a lot and she was as sweet as could be. The day I interviewed with her, she was so kind, so fun, even promised that this office was NOT one that tolerated swearing. She fed me every line to hook me.

Bait taken.

From that day to the day I literally packed up my things and left while she was away, I was a fish on the hook, flailing and begging to be thrown back.

She was condescending, rude, demeaning, and verbally abusive. She'd of course, bring me Starbucks after she'd treated me rudely, never with an apology, just with a "look at me doing a nice thing for you". 

She liked nothing I did. She wanted it all done a specific way that she had in her mind. Since I couldn't read minds, you see how difficult that was. She complained about how long things were taking, but she was the one nitpicking at each and everything me and my co-workers had done. NOTHING WAS EVER GOOD ENOUGH. Ever. 

I'm not going to go into specifics of how she treated me or what exactly she said partly because I don't want to relive it and partly because I'd never be done with this blog then. Suffice it to say, she had an unrealistic view of what needs to be done and an overinflated sense of worth - hers, definitely not mine.

My sister did some research into personality disorders and a few weeks before I left found one that fit her to a "t". Clearly we aren't doctors, but after reading about this disorder, I realized that I would never be good enough for her. That she wasn't going to change because she didn't see anything wrong with her behavior. That was when I began to start thinking of getting a job as soon as I could to get away from her.

Turns out that I'd finally break that first week of September and wouldn't be able to wait to leave.

What I found out after I finally extricated myself from her grip was that I was falling into depression. That first week of freedom was an eye-opener for me. I finally had clarity to see that my house was in a state of disaster, as was my mind, body, and soul.

It's been three weeks since I left. While my house is back in order and my lengthy to-do list is being whittled down, my bruised heart is still healing. I'm still dealing with the damage of her words. Whatever idiot who said, "Sticks and stone will break my bones, but words will never hurt me," clearly hadn't been hurt by words before or was in complete denial.

She had affected my self-worth and self-esteem so deeply that I truly thought I was past my prime, unable to learn new things. There were a few times that I actually researched early onset dementia wondering if THAT was why I wasn't learning what she wanted to me to, how she wanted me to.

I'm grateful for family and a few close friends that supported me through this whole mess and especially where there in those final days I was about to make my exit. I couldn't have done it without them. From prayers to encouragement, they were there. Jumping into the unknown with no job prospects was - no, still is - terrifying. But working for her was crushing my soul.

I'm going to write "the rest of the story" as it is currently in a separate post because this one is so long already. I'm also not going to go back through and proofread this. Unlike the job before, I don't need perfection. I need to be real.

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