Monday, February 17, 2014


I am feeling awesome-sauce. My oldwork disengagement has taken a positive step and my owning area stood up for me in order to make that happen. It makes a hell of a difference to get care and consideration when you didn't get it before. I also found out one of the reports I did got discontinued even though there's a body in my old position now. Not only could they not do my core job properly they couldn't even do my secondary role at all. 

I feel pretty gosh darn tootin' smug about that, a big Cheshire cat grin lit upon my face as I walked downhill to home from the bus stop. I feel better in my body and in my mind and I have taken concrete steps for my wellness plan of personal career progress. It turned out that in doing the insane job that drove me insane that I scored me some clout in them thar Public Service hills and I can use the good times I delivered (long time) as a giant soapbox to stand on when I start barking for myself. 

Of course I doubt I'd have felt so smug if I'd been walking uphill to home instead of downhill but downhill it was. 

My old job was insanely hard and insanely stressful. Right now the Sliding Doors me that didn't collapse would be gearing up for the first big report of the year. Well-me, the one that collapsed and ejection-seat fired himself out of his disintegrating job, has pleasurable editing work to do that is not time sensitive and hardly visible. In addition I get time at work to look for other jobs, with my wellness plan to be the core of my first pitch attempt. 

Wellness for the win—I just can't stress it enough!

Sunday, February 09, 2014

A mid-match report for Feb' '14

Well it's been a couple of weeks since I blogged here. Again my energy and desire to blog is still retarded from the massive writer's block I've suffered since literally going insane for this country.

I actually did. I actually went insane for Australia. I know, it sounds like a hearty wank, the dying gasp of someone clinging to relevance, but I actually genuinely did.

It is now a year since the meeting that pulled the ripcord on my collapse, when my then boss and boss+ castigated me as being crap and incompetent and said I needed a team of people one slot above me in the ladder henceforth vetting all my work. That incident, even though I gave up the next day and said "do what the fuck you want, I am so sick I cannot continue", then fed into weeks of acute stress pain that culminated in a psychotic break from reality that lasted 10 days. 

I had a knock recently. As being part of the Commonwealth government my segment of said government hosted Australia Day Awards. Despite my 15+ years under the white public yoke and doing a job that was both insanely rewarding and insanely visible—over 10 000 people saw the product of my output—I myself have never received one. But, being a good trouper (and trooper) I went across to the event in order to laud colleagues so rewarded, since, being government types, the only people that give a shit are other government people.

Then I saw them. The two worst offenders of the bullying triptych that brought me undone. That with cold malice and forethought bullied me out of my job and then repeatedly put the boot into me when I attempted recovery. They were tight, standing close to each other, smiling and laughing. I saw them and I think they saw me. I'd actually been sitting on a bench when my gaze saw them from the back. I immediately thought "could it be?!, is it them?!", got up, walked forward, looked between the 20 people between us, and confirmed it. It was them—some ten months after they double-teamed me out the workplace.

I blanched white and walked off, entered my new office building, made it back to my desk then cried. The hurt and anger bubbling out with bitterness as I recalled their chummy stance, their idyllic apparent happiness in driving me unto madness. 

Needless to say it was a rough rest of the day. I had to have a day off, steeped in anxiety and pain, but the next day I was back at work. Alas, a couple of weeks later my new supervisor asked to see my old agreement and I went 0–60 from calm to anxiety and started crying, my body hunched in myself like when I experienced the frequent bouts of extreme anxiety where my limbs contracted and the madness draped upon me with heavy cloth. 

She took me into a room and I tearfully expounded upon my tale; how in my last agreement my managers had bullied me into egregious amounts of extra work and how they'd also added a command for me to assess my current duties for possible savings, then slandering my 20 page brief that said I needed more money as not being fit or proper work of a public servant. I even told her the story of the building maintenance issue I attempted to address in my last week, a tale of bureaucratic horror that is equal parts Brazil and 1984. She was nice about it all, having to console a tearful 40+-year-old fat bureaucrat who made the mistake of investing emotionally in what he did about the horrors he (me) endured in the final weeks before he actually went stark raving nuts. Her faith in me, and her praise of me as a proper person, one worthy of support—along with her own tales of dealing with being bullied out of a job—calmed me. I even managed to last out the day, leaving when theWife and theBoy picked me up from a post-school pick-up.

So I am sore, and a little sad, but mostly energised. I am enthused for the future and I am to build on what I have done to do even more. I have been depressed for 30 years but am depressed no longer; or rather have depression with all its advantages and none of the downsides like lack of energy or disinterest in my life. I have a plan and I aim to fulfil it. 

Wellness for the win.