Feb. 18, 2024
Dear S,
I apologize for oversleeping my shift again. In all honesty, I feel very vulnerable due to my contacting Human Resources and my building management. You have been very wonderful in listening to my complaint, so it is no fault of yours. I wish to take this moment to fully lay out my argument that someone has been sharing stories about me at work. Stories that have affected my mental health, my job security, and even my finances.
The source of all of this is coming from my building, so let’s begin there. This is part of what I shared with my building manager:
I left my apartment for 4 months in 2020 during the COVID lockdown because someone said they wanted to love me. That they wanted to marry me. That someone really wanted to control me. Those four months went from a dream come true to a nightmare I haven’t fully been able to wake up from yet. As I planned for my return to Lincoln Road, you approved the painting of my apartment. Miguel was provided a key and he “painted” the apartment. About a week later, I started vacation from work and used the time to make my escape and return to Lincoln Road.
When arriving with the moving van, a handyman I’ve noticed in the neighborhood working in apartments and bodegas saw me and asked to help bring in my bags. How welcoming! A true sign that I was home. This man did not know the ordeal I faced just hours before.
Earlier that morning, I woke to see my fiancé asleep next to me. Quietly grabbing my shoes and exiting the apartment barefoot, I made my way to the roof to call a moving van. Each day spent with my fiancé was becoming scarier and I was beginning to fear him. Already I had been strangled twice in my sleep. Both times he blamed it on nightmares, but his rages and controlling behavior were becoming too much to overlook. As I tried to call for help, I looked out into the morning sky to see a wall of black clouds moving towards the city. I was informed that I would have to wait until the storm passed and my heart sank. During the conversation, my fiancé texted. “Where are you?” I had to stall him from coming up and finding me. I tried to send the moving van images of what needed to be moved but nothing would go through. He couldn’t get my photos. I was running out of time to make the deal. I walked back to my fiancé’s apartment, still struggling to finalize the moving plan. I steeled myself, knowing I would have to tell Collin what I was doing. I entered the apartment and the storm broke. Collin attacked and I soon found myself on the floor bleeding. Afraid, I grabbed a candle stick holder and backed myself into the bathroom, locking the door. I can’t remember too much after that. I often fall asleep when overwhelmed, and this happened again. I do remember waking up and finding my boxed things thrown around the apartment. They were already boxed due to trying to leave the day before. I had convinced him that I would stay.
“This isn’t the end.” I told him. “I just need space to figure things out.” Our devices had been hacked, which is why my photos to the van guy couldn’t properly send. I couldn’t figure out who it was. Could it be Collin, my fiancé? But now, bleeding and afraid, it no longer mattered. I had to leave. Life with him could never be home. I threw my belonging into trash bags and waited for the man with a van. When he arrived, he could feel the tension. I told him that everything had to go into the hall first. Once the door closed, we wouldn’t be able to go back in. Only then would I be able to go get the money he had demanded in advance. The man nodded his approval and we quickly moved my belongings into the hall of the building. As the door finally closed, I broke into sobs. So hurt and ashamed that my dream of finally finding a home was fading.
My ex did show up to Lincoln Road a couple of days later while I was at work and noted that someone was in my apartment. I thought he was being jealous and suspicious. Thinking I had someone else. I brushed it off until it was my turn to unlock my apartment door. Coming home from work, I was struck with fear as the door opened. I couldn’t walk in. I called 911 and failed at my first attempts to speak. Tears began to fall as I struggled to get my voice out. It took a few tries until I could be heard through the sobs. I asked the operator to stay on the line as I searched the apartment. No one was there.
Soon after settling in, I was calming my body in a hot bath. My back was facing the bathroom door, but I noticed movement in the porcelain of the toilet. Someone was slowly and quietly moving into the hall that stretches from the main studio area to the bathroom. I thought it was my ex. I don’t lock my door often and I assumed he let himself in. I thought, he doesn’t know I can see him. I allowed the figure to be there until it wasn’t. I got up and called for Collin. “Collin, I know you’re there.” But no one was.
Sorry for the long story, but I wanted to offer a clear picture of the emotional and mental state I found myself in mid 2020. This is in addition to working the COVID unit on Augustana. Depression hit hard and allowed me to be blinded that someone was secretly sharing stories of my life to the unit. I could tell there was gossip, but couldn’t figure out why. The gossip was coming from workers in my building who I believe gave some neighbors illegal access to my apartment. Ruben, the gentleman who helped me with my bags, was one of these figures. A man who often requests money or items to furnish his apartment. There is a neighbor upstairs who also asks me for money and has commented, “You have a good life.” And the super, who has been increasingly negative ever since management allowed me to tend a garden in the courtyard outside my apartment. I signed a contract and was granted access in 2018/2019. I alone tend this 20x20 area and I believe it has caused a bit of envy and wish to harm.s
Signs at Work:
The first signs actually came from JS and JF. They are bros. They call each other bro and support each other, which I think is wonderful. I had been bullied on the unit since early on due to people believing I was the manager’s favorite. June never stopped it from happening. But he never contributed until now. I figured he had had enough with my depression. I was always late. Super late. Struggling to get out of my apartment. JS allowed it, but eventually told me that I needed to be strong. For me, showing up, even an hour late was strong. LL is the one who brought it to my attention regarding unfair patient loads. I had never noticed before. Had never taken the time to check who got what. I printed the census to hold on just in case. I needed it my very next shift when I was a no call no show. I informed TK. JS barely spoke to me after that.
TK for some reason didn’t notice my lateness right away, but she did suggest I take leave. I really didn’t know how it worked, so I did for a week. I came back on the day I agreed with TK, not knowing the proper protocol. Ms. G contacted TK to make sure it was okay and I started my shift. TK thought I could use more time, and I agreed. So another leave was taken. This time for about 2-3 weeks. What was unknown to me was that when I had returned to work, I was never being paid. When I returned, I couldn’t clock in or out. I told Tk and she said she didn’t know why that was. Even when returning form the longer break, the same thing happened. I couldn’t clock in or out. She again said she didn’t know why. She didn’t seem too concerned so neither was I. That is, not until I checked my bank account one day and had a few dollars in it. I hadn’t been paid. NYU had been paying me through sick leave until that ran out and then there was nothing. Desperate, I called an ex who invested money for me. My $7,000 had turned into $30,000. Today, all is gone. Every time I went to ask TK for help, she wasn’t at work that day, she had just left for vacation or she forgot to bring her glasses and it would have to wait another day. That actually happened.
I began to get the strange feeling that she wanted to harm. But why? I also sensed her harm wasn’t necessarily malicious. It was more correctional. I knew I had to be very careful with showing desperation or anger. My investment was dwindling and every time I called payroll or anyone else, they kept saying my manager had to fix it. But she wasn’t fixing it. She didn’t fix it. Someone in Human Resources finally took pity on me and stepped in. It was NR who fixed it. NR said it was an easy fix.
From time to time other employees would show hostility towards me. Mostly the day shift during report. Frustration over me always being slow and not being ready during handover. But there was something else. Judgment. I could feel it mostly from MR. She was putting up with me, but not because she wanted to. Her side glances made me feel disapproved of.
As for the aides, hostility would come in waves. There were days Ms. VG moved around the unit without acknowledging my existence. Nothing I said was heard. Or Ms. GO commenting on my lack of work ethic. I couldn’t understand why there were these waves of hostility. Waves of having to prove myself over and over when I was already exhausted. As if someone from time to time might have been sharing information.
Last year, during my surgery, I requested to see if JS or JF had accessed my medical records. They were the two who showed the most hostility. They even would refrain from coming into the omni room if I was taking a medication out. Painful. AO could also be very short with me and mean. Making me feel inept. JS style was mostly to ignore, not support, and allow me to fend for myself. I preferred that over being talked down to. What I couldn’t understand is why the poor treatment after so many years. I blamed my depression and struggled to find the inner strength to ignore and push forward.
When TK left is when I felt the most vulnerable. I had already been pulled into NR's office after working 3 days in a row I didn’t plot. By the third day, I was exhausted and the day nurse was upset. She complained and I feared the spotlight would be my downfall. I promised to do better. My next shift, Ms. VG was in a mood and I was struggling to get everything done in the morning. The charge nurse that day was the one who complained. Then I see NR walk in. The panic attack was preparing itself. That’s when I was informed that two of my rooms were flooding. Ms. VG left a faucet running that was clogged. I never would have thought water could rise so high. I turned to see one of the day nurses shaking her head in disapproval. We had to move four patients into the hall and I burst into tears at the front station only to hear the charge say, “Oh, tears?”
I was deflated. Thankfully, and I truly mean that, I fell ill the following shift and didn’t make it past signing into epic. I could feel something was wrong and I requested to go home. I was out for a month with Monkeypox. That was all God right there because I had nothing left in me. Even when NR was planning my return to work, I had another panic attack. I felt so alone. TK was gone. I didn’t know if I could trust NR. All I knew was that my unit was being very cold.
To quickly wrap things up, this type of treatment has been occurring since 2020. I have taken 2.5 leaves for mental health and 1 for Monkeypox, which was also mental health to be honest. I have always returned grateful and bit stronger, but always to waves of hostility. Something I could never understand. How could a colleague laugh with me one day and then be done with me the next?
It all came together when I saw Jennifer in the lobby of my building. I honeslty didn’t know the woman’s correct name because we never work together. She may work the unit, but never with me. That can’t be a coincidence. That must be planned. Assigned. And if I’m correct, that means gossip has been allowed to spread on the unit knowingly. Even when I was struggling mentally. And as for her sources, they have only ill will. I was the fool to play their games, not knowing what harm it was doing. Not understanding that it may have been influencing my treatment at work. My pay even. Ruben I have not seen since my complaint except for entering a neighboring building. A reminder that I am not 100% safe. I have only seen the super once on the sidewalk. No words spoken.
Shockingly, the very day I made my complaint, I came to work and Jennifer was sitting a constant observation in my district. Again, we never work together. The day nurse giving report asked me about my day. I decided to test. “It’s been a busy day trying to deal with my superintendent and a lot of crazy behavior. I had to contact the manager.” Jennifer laughed. “I also contacted HR,” I said to the nurse. Jennifer fell silent. This woman has not worked with me much, so that comment should have meant nothing. But it hit.
Being charge that day and having a full district, I asked Jennifer if she could help E clean a patient. This is when Jennifer stated she was tired of cleaning patients and that she wanted to leave early since the constant obs patient wasn’t going to get his NG tube as planned. She didn’t help with the cleaning, didn’t stay with the constant observation patient, yet stayed on the unit chatting with colleagues until it was time to clock out. The next morning, I see her come onto the unit. I greet her with good morning, but nothing. Silence.
A similar silence has befallen many on the unit. Especially the aides. They wish to protect each other, which I understand. But I need to stop being a plaything to people who do not wish me well. Who enjoy watching me struggle without knowing the cause.
I almost forgot that it was M who helped me piece the puzzle together. I did question the possibility when I saw Jennifer in my building. But when M made the comment, “Don’t go too crazy,” to something I said, I knew. I asked her to repeat. “Don’t go too crazy,” she said. Things at home have been getting increasingly out of control. Ruben and others has been taking additional liberties. Banging trashcans and blasting news from the basement to inform me he is there and wants to play. The man who helped me come home and others wants to take it all away. And I almost let them.
As I told you in our meeting, I don’t know if I can beat the depression I’ve been fighting. It’s been a rough and lonely road. I just need a fair chance in beating it. I don’t need someone helping to make it even tougher.
As for my missed shift, I take full blame yet again. I should have known it wasn’t going to be easy. If my allegations are true, it may cause harm to a few. I do not wish it to. We’re all human. I just want my own humanity to be respected.
Comments