Zoloft Zombie

I suck at this.  I don't even feel that bad about sucking at it either because I just really never WANT to do it anymore.  I've had SO many things that I could have entertained you with over this last year and I just didn't feel like it.  Those moments are gone and so is the rage that would have carried me through the posts that should have accompanied them.  And that makes me mad.  Those moments needed to be recorded for more than altruistic or entertainment purposes, which I will sort of cover in a bit.  

I do feel that I owe you at least a brief-ish explanation as to why I just disappeared for so long.  I'm not going to even try to make this funny but it may happen on accident.  It really just depends on how angry I become.

I made the truly horrible decision to injure my shoulder at work last April.  I compounded that stupidity with the truly enormous load of dumb ass known as filing a Worker's Comp claim.  My work life took a turn for the worse as you would expect when you hold your large box store employer accountable for their bad planning and your bad luck. 

The day after I filed this claim my (I can't think of anything to call him that's not derogatory) boss wrote me up.  He made it his mother fucking mission to ruin my mother fucking life.  At least at work.  He bullied me.  He pulled me into the "office" for stern talking-to's on a weekly basis with his pet bitch about how I was unproductive and kept disappearing, or so says the anonymous person who apparently gets paid to watch me and not do any actual work.  I had one functioning fucking arm.  My dominant arm was in a sling and I was put on restrictions where I wasn't allowed to use my arm in a job that requires two hands for just about everything.  So, yeah. I guess I was less productive than usual.  For months on end he would have these threatening talks with me that never resulted in any disciplinary action because he knew he was making it up and would have no proof of anything he'd accused me of if he pulled the security tapes like he should have.  I was also written up and threatened with write-ups up to the point where one bad move would get me fired.  It was illegal retaliation and discrimination and no one gave a flying fuck when I reported it.

It got to the point where I was getting so angry that I would have panic attacks on a daily basis.  This caused the PTSD to flare up in a bad way.  I wasn't sleeping, I could barely eat, and the thought of going to work and seeing him made me physically and violently ill which of course lead to absences and the aforementioned write-ups.  Right around the time the anxiety started flaring up I went back to the free shrink and had to start a daily regimen of Zoloft.  To be fair to the Zoloft, it did manage to take the worst of the edge off and allowed me push through the nightmare that was work without having a complete mental breakdown.  That's where my fairness with it ends.  It also blunted the edge of everything.  Fun.  Life.  Goals.  Dreams.  Whatever I found pleasant and fulfilling in life became a thing I could no longer summon any enjoyment or energy for.  So I stopped writing.  The major goal of most of my life was taken from me.  I blame that mother fucker whose name I want so badly to spread across the masses.  He's a childish dick who has never amounted to anything and takes pleasure and pride in belittling and putting down those that aren't like him.  Wow.  You made it to middle management on the store level of the largest employer in the world.  Feel proud, you useless cunt.  

I had an actual legal case with this, but haha, they don't pay me enough to afford a lawyer.  And another, bigger haha:  The promoted him.  Every single person in the store that had an ongoing Worker's Comp case was retaliated and discriminated against by him and we all complained.  He did what he was there to do.  I hope you choke on a dick, person whose name I won't say.  Yet.

Anyway, yes.  The Zoloft kind of ruined everything that he didn't, including this blog.  I stopped taking it the day before I had shoulder surgery in November.  I don't recommend the shoulder surgery.  I didn't regain "full use" of my arm for almost six months after it.  Which is another reason why I haven't blogged.  And then we add into it that even though Fuck Face is gone from my store, work has started to suck again and the edge is back because I wanted to grow back the feelings that Zoloft stole (they didn't come back, just the rage) and well, my PTSD is the worst it has ever been in regards to anxiety and anger.  I throw things now.  It's not as freeing as you would think because then you just want to throw more things.  All the things.  Just throw 'em all.  I'm just so Goddamned angry all of the time at everything.  Which is apparently hilarious to everyone until the throwing and screaming starts.  Then they just look really afraid of me.

I have a plan though.  A plan to get me away from the situation for awhile, to have a lot of fun, and the best part is... I think this fun escape plan is actually going to go a long ways toward treating my PTSD.  All will be revealed in time and know that I'm probably going to need some help from whoever it is that still checks in on this dead blog from time to time.

Comments

Jaclyn said…
Glad to see you're back. Want to commiserate?

I was in retail for almost a decade. The first company, also a big box retailer, expected you to bust your ass for shit money and I left for a clothing company after 4 years. Then I spent 4 years there, and they were the worst of my life. My manager was a cunt. She did not care about anyone's life outside of that place. I was a manager there too, and was once lectured about my job responsibilities because I refused to send home one of my cashiers. She was an older woman, whose mother had died just a few days before. And my boss was annoyed because "she can cry on her breaks if she wants, but if she's not going to smile on the salesfloor, you need to tell her to go home". She was only there that day because she had no vacation time and couldn't afford to take the days off. I told her to write me up if she felt she needed to.

Then, after losing my baby at 6 months pregnant (after IVF, I might add), I got called into the office by my GM and our DM, and they basically had the exact same conversation with me. That I was ruining the customer's experience in the store with my sad, sad face. When they asked why I didn't just use my vacation time, I explained that I was saving it because we planned to try IVF again in a few months. Then they told me that I wasn't ready for another baby and I should talk to a psychiatrist because I wasn't handling my grief very well (this was 2 weeks after my son died).

During my second pregnancy, I got written up for "being late all the time". And by that I mean 4 minutes late because I had severe morning sickness for months and every time I started walking from my car to the store, I would start dry heaving. After my pregnancy with my daughter, I got repeatedly lectured about the fact that I needed time to pump because I was breastfeeding her. I had really hit my limit at that point, and my good friend got me a job in her office.

There is no point to telling you this story, except fuck retail. Retail is the fucking worst. Also, managers are cunts most of the time and if you are a manager who isn't a cunt, you get told you aren't doing your job. It's awful.
The Randomist said…
Holy. Shit. Jaclyn. You've won the internet today. I give you all of my likes. I am really sorry that you had to go through ANY of that, let alone ALL of it. I'm always open to becoming a freelancing hit person, and by that I mean I will actually hit them and not kill them. Intentionally.

Where do they find these people? MOST mid-level managers are fine, but once you get to the salaried level it's like they pluck you right out of the Hateful Asshole School for Those That Couldn't Quite Hack Actual Human Rights Violations. Our corporate office has actually stepped in and started threatening to shit can THEM for their incompetence for once. Or in some cases, their actual proficiency in running a profitable store because they don't cut hours enough to cause a huge loss of said profits so they can have a reason to cut MORE hours.

I wish EVERYONE had to work entry level retail for a year and food service for another so they would understand what it's like when they treat us like garbage on a daily basis. I think such horrid things about people so forcefully that I have to check to make sure they're not actually coming out of my mouth.

I'm glad to BE back. Hopefully it sticks. And hopefully your work life is much more pleasant now. At least my company is very pro-pumping. They have redeeming qualities, but they're shadowed by the fact that countless people were fired and had to sue to make sure everyone else got them (but lost other things in the compromise). There should be support groups for this shit.

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