This is frustrating to admit, but even after I’ve written about/processed the major parts of my traumas, minor parts that I didn’t think would bother me are continuing to affect my current life. I feel that this nonsense is inhibiting me from being the best, most genuine version of myself that I can be. For that matter, I’m grateful to be in therapy right now.

For many years, I’ve built part of my identity on helping and being hard-working. Much of that involved being a people-pleaser as well. I’ve gotten rid of my urge to people-please, but I’ve been struggling to balance being hard-working/helpful with setting healthy limits for myself.

I remember two years ago, in April ’21, when I had what must’ve been an identity crisis. A close coworker confided in me that no matter how hard she’d worked to keep our store running smoothly, one of our managers had still harshly berated her, even for calling off sick (during the COVID-19 pandemic). Part of me broke after that talk.

My heart hurt for her, and at that moment, I realized that I’d been holding onto a coping mechanism from the years of my life when our emotionally abusive ex-stepdad was with us. I’d done my best to avoid rocking the boat and also went above and beyond to make sure that he was happy. This was especially true for chores.

But even for all of my hard work, he’d still take no issue with verbally/emotionally abusing both myself and my two sisters. That common denominator between my coworker and I was painful to realize, but ultimately necessary.

After coming to terms with that, along with a couple of alarmingly vivid dreams that made me realize I’d been denying my depression, I started being more honest with myself. With the help of Wellbutrin (an anti-depressant), faith, and the people in my life, I was able to let go of my people-pleaser mentality.

That was a bit traumatic at the time. Even six years after our ex-stepdad had left us, it was momentarily crippling to realize that I’d been unconsciously acting like a peacekeeper, especially at work.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been worried that, whether it’s true or not, I haven’t been true to myself because of the lingering effects of both trauma coping mechanisms and an urge to prove to myself that I’m not detached from the people in my life.

I know that all of the love and compassion I’ve shown my family and friends, even when I was still clinging to that people-pleaser mentality, has been real. I have no doubt about that. It’s just been exhausting (and exasperating) to realize that despite my best efforts, I’m still purging the last echoes of both trauma memories and toxic mentalities.

It’s All in the Details

Something that’s been bothering me is realizing that I’ve still been pushing myself to unhealthy social expectations, both with my relationships and at work. There have been times in the last year or so when I’ve needlessly stressed myself out about avoiding feeling detached/apathetic by striving to be either fully present or taking care of work tasks without any flaws.

My managers at my current job have done an amazing, compassionate job of helping me remember that I don’t have to prove that I’m capable. They’ve reminded me that I have to give myself grace as I continue to learn. It will take time before I’ve learned everything there is to learn here like my veteran co-workers already have.

I’ve made progress with this healthier mentality outside of work, too. I think I’ve mentioned in previous personal posts that I recently had a supremely unhealthy photo-editing habit of staying up until insane hours, like 5 a.m., to edit nature photos and submit them for stock licensing.

Can you imagine that it gave me health consequences? To quote Blanche Devereaux from The Golden Girls: “I am stunned. Just STUNNED!”

I did that because I felt desperate to prove to myself, more than anybody else, that I wasn’t slacking off toward my dream goal of being a financially successful photographer. My idea was that if I pushed myself as far as I could go, I could expedite that journey.

Needless to say, that didn’t work the way I thought it would.

Between that photography anxiety and my needless urgency at the library, I’ve realized that I’ve struggled with being overly meticulous, for lack of a better phrase. For some reason, I’ve felt the need to be as precise as possible in everything I do.

I’m not sure exactly where that comes from. One theory I have is that it’s a result of all of the micromanaging I experienced at my last job. Am I still trying to prove myself (to myself?) after my best efforts weren’t enough to stop managers from scrutinizing me nonstop?

Micromanaging is Toxic (Surprise!)

I’ve told my therapist that I’m concerned about hyper-fixating on my last job and constantly recycling my emotions instead of fully letting them go. For this reason, I strive to avoid dwelling on it as much as possible. Nonetheless, I’ve had a small revelation about unprocessed trauma from it that’s been affecting how I handle things at my current job.

I spent 4 years at my last job. While it wasn’t entirely a bad experience, micromanaging was a recurring, underlying theme. It was especially bad in the last year I spent with them.

Particularly toxic examples from that nasty last year include:

  • My manager shouting at me twice, in front of the entire team, that I was no longer allowed to price donated items at $.99
  • A higher-up manager constantly analyzing (what felt like) our every move; if she thought that we weren’t working as fast as we could, or it seemed to her that we were needlessly stepping away (even if it was just to grab more necessary supplies), she would sharply question us
  • Same higher-up manager demanding photo evidence from and, in one case, following behind one of our team leaders because she didn’t trust that tasks were being properly done
  • If I was seemingly taking too long to price a rack of donated clothing because of having to remove trash items or overly pulling off items, a manager would scrutinize my work and my trash-removing choices; this was especially frustrating after finding numerous filthy clothing items haphazardly sent to the sales floor when I wasn’t pricing
  • When I asked for a couple of days off (to use my earned PTO) for a couple of mental health days, the request was treated as a burden; on top of that, the same manager who said “We’re a family” shamed me by refusing to talk to me about it, but speaking about the request in a condescending manner with my boss, as she walked past me
  • At one point, an old kitchen timer was used to time our hangers, to pressure them to hang a full rack of clothing in a short amount of time (10 minutes or less, which meant having to ignore trash items and inadvertently create more work for the production line)
  • And probably the most ridiculous example of them all: at one point, we all had to write down when we entered and left the restroom. On top of that, we also had to ask for the key to the restrooms from a manager

After writing this all out, it’s important for my sake to remember that it was the whole team, not just me, who was micromanaged. That doesn’t take away from how toxic things were, but it helps me avoid feeling singled out.

Not only were we scrutinized to an asinine degree, but our autonomy was impacted, too. At one point, I’d made small handwritten signs to be put on our racks, politely requesting that customers refrain from shopping from them. Those signs were a smaller, mobile version of the large sign in our store that was perpetually ignored.

When a higher-up manager saw those signs, she yanked them off and told us that the large sign was sufficient and that we could have a manager talk to the customer instead. This was baffling because instead of fixing a problem that had led to some of my coworkers being unfairly scolded by customers, her response ensured that the issue would continue to occur.

Maybe that was seen as me “stepping out of line”? She didn’t say that, but that’s the vibe I got from it nonetheless.

Lingering Aftereffects

I shouldn’t feel that somebody is watching me with scorn at the library when it’s a library. This isn’t the fault of my library managers but an indicator that I’ve failed to work through this trauma. Because we were constantly watched at my last job for every little thing, it’s been hard to shake off that paranoia at my current job.

I’ve been told by my managers how I can improve and how to avoid certain mistakes. But when they do talk to me, it’s always in a professional manner, without any of the condescending, patronizing tones used at my last job.

Not only that, but my managers are, overall, far more reasonable in all their communications. If I make a mistake, they professionally teach me how to avoid it in the future. The feedback I get from them has helped me continue to grow confident in my role.

I genuinely wish we’d been given this level of professionalism at my last job.

Moving On

Time and again, being at my current job in a normal, calm, safe environment where our managers actively encourage us against rushing ourselves, I’m reminded of how toxic my last job was.

I’m actively working on reminding myself that nobody is watching my every move, looking for an excuse to berate me. I’ll never again have to deal with a manager unprofessionally scolding me over a minor mistake or where there’s simple room for improvement. I’ll never again have to worry about a manager trying to humiliate me in front of all of my coworkers over (what should’ve been) a private conversation.

There’s no use in holding a grudge, and I’m working on ensuring that I’ve forgiven them for everything. I can’t change the past by seething with anger and run the risk of projecting it all onto somebody else.

I’m thankful that I’m currently in therapy. My counselor is wonderful, and I look forward to discussing all of this with her during our next session.

Ugly Memories

My ex-stepdad’s actions against me and my sisters have also factored into my current issues. He loved to single each of us out if we tried to put our foot down in the face of his oppressive demands.

Or he still would, even if we were trying to avoid sticking out.

When I came home for winter break after my first semester at Kent, to punish me for being an introvert who didn’t speak much at the dinner table, he’d purchased a book of conversation starters. Every night, his plan was to make me pick one from the book and force me into small talk.

This, combined with the asinine times at my last job, has given me a small fear of being singled out. Truth be told, what makes me the most afraid about this is the possibility of me verbally lashing out and embarrassing myself in future circumstances where I mistake somebody speaking to me as an attempt at humiliating me.

While I thankfully haven’t made that mistake, it’s something I’m wary of nonetheless.

Being Paranoidly Defensive

Overall, one of my biggest current concerns is acting with a defensive mentality. One of my main regrets about both my ex-stepdad and my last job is that I didn’t push back more. Especially when remembering how other people, namely my little sisters/my coworkers, were hurt.

I remember how powerless I felt in those moments. I also know that I can’t regain that power by taking out my anger on people in the present.

I have to remember that not only can I not change the past, but I have to take caution that I don’t project that anger onto somebody else. The possibility of getting enraged at something or somebody unrelated to my past traumas is a huge concern for me.

When I feel that anger coming on, I’ve been good at grounding myself and reminding myself that the knee-jerk reaction I’m feeling should be ignored, not acted upon. Doing so has helped me avoid unnecessary conflicts.

In its own way, refusing to let that anger guide my choices helps me feel powerful against those memories. Sure, I can’t go back in time and rebuke my aggressors, but drawing a firm line between their nasty choices and the present has helped me tremendously.

Just Walk Away

To wrap this up, I’ve realized that if I ever worry about not having “gotten even” with the sources of my trauma, I can happily put that worry to rest. You see, I did get revenge…in a totally non-aggressive fashion!

My quitting and refusing to tolerate my last job’s toxicity any longer was revenge then. Between my sisters and I, our collective steadfastness in holding onto the truth of what happened under our ex-stepdad, not a gaslit version that he would want us to believe, is our continued revenge for the verbal and emotional abuse he put us through.

And overall, my choosing to forgive them all and striving to walk away is the ultimate revenge I could ever come up with.

Featured Image by Connor Brennan