No Thanks to You Part 2

 

 

No Thanks to You Part 2

I didn’t do things the way you wanted me to. Honestly, I like to make notes. I don’t shred things as often as you would like because I fear losing something important. Frankly, I still do that to this day. I am good at returning phone calls, but you insist that I write down every number and every message, so I don’t forget to call them back. Lastly, I can do several things at once, and you didn’t like that. 

 

You are very controlling, too much micromanaging my work. Honestly, you knew I did a good job, so why didn’t you let me do things my way? You told me everyone does things differently and gets their rhythm. I had my rhythm, but you wanted to change who I was as a person and employee. I took issue with that. 

 

Depression Over my Job

 

I got so depressed at this job and anxious over doing a good job that I had to get medicated. Every time you walked into the room, I wondered what I had done wrong now? You started making a point to notice every tiny detail of something I missed or got wrong. That is not how a boss should be to his employees. You didn’t praise me anymore. You didn’t show any sign that I was enough for this job. 

 

You expected more and more from me. When I needed help, you were conveniently not around. I tried to get your help with a matter, and you were not available to help me. I made a mistake. I acknowledge that. But your biggest mistake was not being around when I needed you—and not training me as you should. 

 

Another Low Blow

 

I cannot believe that you tried to take my unemployment from me. That was one of the lowest things that you did to me. I was mortified. And when I explained this to the woman at the unemployment office the situation, she quickly understood that it was not me but you. I am glad she saw it my way. 

 

You kept meeting with me with a disappointed look in your eyes. And you dragged him into this? The look on his face was regretful for having to deal with your misogynistic, sexist, backward, lying actions. Telling me we can fix this, and if you get yourself medicated, it will be fixed. You made me feel like the problem was with me and not you and that it was all my fault for the very few mistakes I did make. 

 

You made me feel less than human. 

 

I was just a troubled, sad person who couldn’t perform well at my job without being medicated. Do you have any idea what I was going through at that time of my life? That I was going through a break-up months from getting married? My grandfather almost died, and you didn’t bat an eye. I was so sad. And you made me feel like, at least in the beginning, that we were a team and you would help me through anything. 

 

But you didn’t even bother to ask. You just assumed I was okay and moved on. Frankly, you didn’t care what happened to me. You didn’t watch. And that was hurtful because you said I could trust you. 

 

Smack in the Middle the Lies Began

 

Then, you let me go in the middle of all the shit I was dealing with within a week of the end of my probationary period. I had nothing. Nothing. Nothing to live for anymore. You were the last straw in my life. I was already dealing with so much pain and agony, and you treated me this way. After all the work I did for you. All those extra hours I worked. 

You told me that I was rude to inmates and that I talked over them. That was all a lie. You said to me that a clerk filed a complaint against me. That was also a lie. I don’t even know what I did to offend her, but life continues. The judges liked me. They still do—funny thing how lies work. I have never had a single issue in that courthouse in my job now. I am respected and well-liked by everyone. 

 

You told me that I wasn’t a good fit. 

 

Then why waste my time and yours? You could have let me go a lot sooner. If I were that lousy employee, you would have cut your losses sooner. Isn’t that what you told me about Charlotte in Frankfort? That you should cut your losses and fire me. 

You told me that to scare me. I don’t even think that woman knows my name or anything about me. I was a week from being a tenured employee. And you decided to cut me then; you milked me for all the work I was good enough for. Then you dumped me on the curb like yesterday’s trash. I was no longer your prodigy.