Irate

I know I should be mature. I know I should be an adult about this. But all I want to do is stamp my 6 inch heels in frustration. We have a three day weekend coming our way, as we observe MLK Day. My partner and I were planning a trip, since it will be his last weekend here. And then I saw my “on call” schedule for the coming months, and I have been scheduled to work a five hour night shift (I am a morning person and by 9:30 I am ready for bed, so this will be very painful), every Monday. What a great way to start a week.

But that’s not why I’m so pissed. What bothers me the most is that although we are closed for most of the day on Monday, MLK Day, we do open in the evening, meaning – even though no one will be here – I have to work. Which screws up everything and makes me seethe in anger at my supervisor. I have gone above and beyond to try and “play the game” and “be a cheerleader” for her, but this simply sucks. This fucking sucks. And I don’t know if she is doing this to me on purpose (because I secretly think she does not like and/or is threatened by me) or not.

Do not freak out, is what I am trying to tell myself. Do not let it show. Be calm.

But I want to scream and throw a tantrum. Every place I go, every institution I work for has a wretch like this in a position of power, and I am so tired of it. It is frustrating and belittling and interferes with the quality of my life. As a bipolar person, I need a schedule. I need to adhere to that schedule as much as possible, and having to begin a work week screwing up that very important schedule by messing with my sleep times makes me very unhappy.

But there is nothing I can do. I always find myself in these positions where there is one (or more) toxic people who have authority over me and thus, this is the reason I want to leave this industry – because it is not what I killed myself getting a Master’s degree for – working with venomous people – and it is no longer where my passion lies. The industry has changed too much, and as good as I am (and I am damn good at my job), there is always some road block that appears to make life, for me, difficult.

I cannot tell anyone of my handicap. I cannot “out” myself as bipolar. I attempted to do that at my last job, going to HR because the atmosphere had become so toxic, that I thought if I could use the protection of the ADA, perhaps things would change. I received a nice pat on the head and was asked if I needed a new desk or perhaps different lighting. What they – the normal ones – don’t seem to get is it’s not a desk, a chair, a lamp that one needs. We need to be allowed to set our schedules, live by them and have the time to take care of ourselves. Because if we can’t do that, then we will continue to stumble and fall.

So I feel like I’m being set up again, in yet another institution, where my voice has been muffled and my desire of moving forward in this profession is slowly being dampened. At this moment, I hate this job. Or rather, I hate my supervisor. I think I would love my job if not for her – or at least find some passion in it. But she has tied my hands with so many of the projects I wish to do, and I am getting to the point of blowing. I went to our director who told me to hold out for the first year. Everyone needs to find their grove. I’ve been doing this for over 13 years. I have a grove. I know how good I am. It just makes me irate that they hired someone with the same, or less, experience than I have who now controls what I can and cannot do.

Fuck her. Fuck this place. When I put it out there that this was where I wanted to work, and it actually manifested, I thought it was magical. I thought I had found a home. A place where I could stay for longer than 2 or 3 years, and be happy.

Road blocks everywhere. As if the entire town was under road construction. Detours. Speed bumps. And all it makes me want to do is drink and forget about my shitty life.

I just want to be able to be productive. I just want to be happy and feel as if my life has made a difference. But I don’t think that will happen here. I think I have to find it somewhere else. I can’t leave yet – I still need my paycheck and health insurance, but in the coming months that could all change. And I could find myself on the road with destination unknown.

© Sorrow & Kindness

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