Are You Super Woman?

I wonder just how many wear the super woman cape. I know this syndrome has become epidemic. Once we decide to wear that cape, we develop an unknown kinship with all the other women who have chosen the same. We have a common thread that binds us.

Until I started searching the internet - blogs - I felt alone. I never really stopped to think I could reach out. I was so caught up in my own struggle, consumed by emotions and running around trying to get everything done that I couldn't even fathom that there were other women doing just the same.  Now I am amazed how I could think that way.

It’s true, I run from one problem to the next, trying to do it all from dawn to way past dusk and one day melts into the next and I don't know what day it is and I can't remember what day I did what.

My mind is always full with thoughts whirling around making my heart race and the butterflies swarm. I miss appointments or forget to make them in the first place. I can't remember my own list of things to do but I am expected to remember everyone else's list too.

In the morning, I jump out of bed and look at the clock. I am going to be late, but I am lucky. I get to go to work. Which brings a whole slew of different situations to address.

I am also lucky to have my Mom. She is a God send. She arrives and starts the dishes from last nights supper. She gets my three year old Hunny Bunny dressed and gets her breakfast. Lately I have just enough time to pop my meds and run out the door. 

My husband is usually up way before me. He goes out for a coffee and comes back. He paces the house waiting oh so patiently for me to jump into my car. His car is not drivable. That is another story. Just as I am ready to walk out the door he remembers he needs to take his meds. I wait patiently at the door. Don't want to set him off. 

So he drops me off and picks me up from work Monday to Friday. It is frustrating not having my car available just in case but I make that sacrifice so he isn't stuck in the house ranting and raving at our teenage daughter.

Many days his auto pilot tries to take us some place else so I have to point to our cut offs or he misses them. His mind is somewhere else. Doesn't seem to matter that we have taken this route hundreds of times, I still have to ask him where are we going?

He drives so slow that I feel another anxiety attack hitting me hard. I am late and I just want to hurry up and get to work. He lights up a cigarette and I follow his lead. We usually have two smokes by the time I arrive at work. On a good day we don't argue in the car. Although when he is pissed off with me he drives faster and I get to work sooner.

Arguments in the car are quite the norm. So much so that it is a trigger for me. I can’t stand getting in the car with him. I am trapped. He has even made a joke of it. I can’t escape and I am forced to communicate with him. I have to listen when diarrhea of the mouth hits him. Most times I don’t get sucked up into his episodes but there are times that I can’t stop responding to his hate and anger with the same.

What do we fight about? I don't know. Anything and everything. Stupid things. He knows I want him to open his window when smoking in my car. I don't want it caked with nicotine and reeking like an ashtray like his car. Yet he can't seem to do this one small request. He's too cold. He forgot. Did he forget that he is supposed to love me and cater to my every need? Oh yah, my mistake, it is the other way round.

Okay so I am at work. Guess what? He has to call me. And call me. And call me. Why? He just wants to talk. He has to talk to me about something important. He wants to know if I saw that watch-a-ma-call-it. He calls to ask if I am busy. Of course I am busy. I am always busy. I am at work. 

It is frustrating because he has all this time to wonder around aimlessly taking no responsibility for anything. When I get home I look around to see what if anything he has accomplished today. Wow. He cut the grass. Better hurry up and mention it to him before he pounces on me. (Our front lawn is so small. It takes maybe five minutes with the push mower to complete.)

My teenage daughter often cooks supper. Now she does. For the last few weeks anyway. Otherwise nothing. I'll make Kraft dinner. Or we have cereal. Or plain spaghetti with sauce poured from the can. Actually we can't afford anything fancy like hamburgers or pork chops. There for a while we all forgot what meat looks like. We eat a lot of pasta.

After supper I like to spend time with my four year old granddaughter, my Honey-Bunny. Before I know it, it's bath time. Then relax and watch a movie with a bedtime snack. Moving quickly along to bedtime, story time and lights out time.

By ten o'clock she is sound asleep. Now I can chose what to do. Should I watch a movie? Check my email? Blog? Clean? Spend time with my teen aged daughter? What about my husband? All of the above? I wish!

And now it is three o'clock in the morning again. How did that happen?  I should go to bed but I am not done yet. The super woman cape is crazy glued to my shoulders and stapled for good measure. 

I am craving time for myself. It is an itch that never gets scratched enough because if I take the time to really scratch, yes everything would fall apart. 

It is exhausting. How long does it take for a super woman to burn out? Sounds like the start of a joke. How many newfies does it take to change a light bulb? One to hold the lightbulb and four to turn the house.

Sorry I diverged.

Just when I think I just can’t keep doing this, I find the strength to carry on. I look at my husband , daughters and granddaughters and remember what it is all about. They are my purpose. My strength. My life. My love.

I ask myself, do I really want to remove the proverbial cape?

I need to know more about the “super woman” syndrome so I search it on the net. As usual there is not much information out there.

I found a hub by Cari Jean titled Superwoman Syndrome. You can follow this link if you would like to read it.

http://carijean.hubpages.com/hub/Superwoman-Syndrome#

Having read this, I am not so sure that I am a superwoman. Or am I in denial? Maybe I am a knock off and not the real thing?

Cari Jean writes, “Are you trying to raise a family, have a career, serve in your church, keep up your home, attend all of your kids activities, work out at the gym and be socially active? Are you constantly on the go? Do you ever give yourself a break? Do you allow yourself to relax? Do you constantly give, give, give while receiving nothing in return? Do you ever stop attending to the needs of others so you can take time out for you? If this fits your profile, you may have something called Superwoman Syndrome.”

This sort of sounds like me.

According to Dr. Madeline Ann Lewis, co-author of Overcoming the Superwoman Syndrome, some of these women don the cape because they:

• Want to be the good little girl
• Have a tendency towards people-pleasing
• Seek attention
• Want to feel like they can do it all
• They cannot say no to others
• Want to feel accomplished
• Have low self-esteem
• Strive for perfection

Now this does not sound like me. At least I don’t want to think I am because those reasons listed aren’t really admirable.

I would rather agree with Uncle Sam’s Mistress. She says, “I often stop and look at myself in the mirror and really don't know who I am anymore. Some people refer to me as strong and confident, while I view myself as being compliant and simply adjusting to my environment. There really isn't any strength because I don't feel strong and confident.... I am only confident that so far I have been able to keep my family together and making the best out of the worst possible of situations.  I get sick and down, the whole family tumbles down with me. Super Woman's biggest fear? Dying in my sleep or having an accident that is fatal. Morbid I know right? The fear is not of dying itself, but what would my husband do and my kids? I want to shed this stress, unmask and be myself just for a few days......no worries, no cares, and just relax. It's not that I don't want to take care of myself...I just don't know how to do it. I know that in our situation, other wives are facing far more challenging aspects, but in all of us.....I think it's safe to say that none of us are capable of laying the cape aside and truly being free.” 

Oh, okay, I will admit I am a people pleaser and I have a hard time saying no. Plus I strive for perfection. There. I said it. I am Super Woman.

What about you? Are you a Super Woman too?

The first step is admitting you have a problem. What is the next step?

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How it all Came Down

Update on Running Out of Time

I

f you have been reading my posts you probably have already figured out that the bank did not foreclose. Somehow we managed to get the money to the lawyers on time.

This is how it happened.

Remember, my husband had been speaking to our local MPP's assistant? Well my husband gave a copy of the psychologist's diagnosis to Nick who shared it with the MPP. Interestingly, the MPP used to be a doctor. He read the document and immediately said he did not understand why WSIB had not approved the claim. 

The MPP wrote letters to the Minister of Health and the Minister of Labour explaining the situation.

The Minister of Labour wrote a letter to Mrs. Elizabeth Witmer, Chair of the Workplace Safety & Insurance Board of Ontario. 

(Here's just a bit of background information about Mrs. Witmer. Elizabeth Witmer was appointed Chair of Ontario’s Workplace Safety and Insurance Board (WSIB) on May 17, 2012, following more than 30 years of continuous public service.She was a member of the Legislative Assembly of Ontario from 1990 to 2012, representing Waterloo North, and later Kitchener Waterloo. During that time, she served as Deputy Premier, Minister of Labour, Minister of Health and Long Term Care, Minister of the Environment, and Minister of Education.)

It took approximately one week between each letter. Then surprise my husband received a phone call from WSIB. That was Monday June 18, 2012. Sorry but I can't remember the title or name of this person who called but I think she was Mrs. Witmer's assistant. She told my husband she had his file in front of her and would be reviewing it that very same day. She also said she would have an answer before three o'clock that afternoon. 

Holy cow! Freak us out. After all this time. It was nerve racking. Each minute was torture. We felt positive she would come back with an approval but there is always that small chance scratching at the back of your mind - what if.

A little after three o'clock, my husband received the call. His claim was approved. Yahoooooo! Treatment! Money!

When? When will treatment start? When is the money coming? We need the money to be at the lawyers office by July second! We are running out of time.

Tuesday came and went. 

Wednesday.

Thursday.

My husband called me at work in the morning. He received a cheque for almost six thousand dollars by Purolator. Wow. We need more but it was a great start.

He took his cheque to the bank to deposit the cheque into his account.

There's a problem.

PROBLEM! What problem?

Gary has not earned any money in more than a year. The bank closed his account a long time ago because it was inactive. At the time, his bank account was in the minus. Quite a bit in the minus.

When my husband found out his bank account was closed, he had to speak to the Assistant  Manager because the Manager was away for a few days. They could not reopen his account and would not open a new one. 

He lost it. I can picture it. His face all red, frothing at the mouth, and that vein in the middle of his forehead enlarged and throbbing. Yep he was yelling, swearing and calling her names.

As usual, when something is going on, my husband called me at work as soon as he got home to tell me what happened at the bank. I listened and told him to go to a different bank and open an account. He agreed but turned out he didn't. He ended up calling the Assistant Bank Manager and apologized for his behaviour - explaining how his PTSD made him do it.

Friday June twenty-second. I got up as usual and started to get ready for work. He started bugging right away. "Take the day off." "Go to the bank and cash the cheque." Shit. He just wouldn't stop so we went to the bank.

We didn't wait long for a teller. I explained that my Husband did not have a bank account and we needed to have this government issued cheque cashed. She told us that she would have to put the cheque on hold for five business days. Please, I asked, we need at least four hundred dollars because our house insurance had to be paid before four-thirty or it would be cancelled. We have been waiting a year for this money. We have missed house insurance payments so many times and they would not wait. If we did not make this payment deadline our insurance would be cancelled then it would be impossible to  obtain insurance anywhere else. And since our mortgage was at the lawyers, the bank would foreclose faster if the house insurance was cancelled. 

The teller apologized. She wished she could help. The bank's policy was to put a hold on large cheques like this one. Even government cheques? I asked. Yes because sometimes the government will put a stop payment on a cheque. I pleaded some more. She said she would be right back. She wanted to speak to her supervisor.

Oh look. It was the Assistant Manager. She came over to us. She would not cash the cheque. She would not allow me to deposit the cheque and disburse a few hundred dollars to us. She could verify the cheque on Monday and cash the cheque. We explained about the deadline and Monday would be too late.

The Assistant asked us to take a seat and wait for a few minutes. She had to take care of a couple of things and call  head office.

Ten minutes later she returned and asked us to join her in  her office.  No good news. The bank wouldn't budge. No money for us here.

My Husband freaked. He walked out swearing. I sat there for a moment trying to compose myself. Tears swelled up in my eyes. I apologized to the Assistant Manager and explained, it's been hard. I stood up slowly and walked out of her office and out of the bank.

When I got to the car, Gary was standing beside it having a smoke. His cousin, Claude, who came along for the ride was having a smoke too. 

Claude told Gary to go to the bank he deals with. My husband has no identification but we decided to give it a try. 

I sat in the car while Claude and my husband went into this bank. 

It was really hot in the car. It must have been thirty degrees with the humidity. I had two smokes. I was getting anxious because I had to get to work.

Finally. They came back. I couldn't read the expression on Gary's face. He sat down in the driver's seat. 

Well? 

No problem. 

Jack had went up to the teller with my husband and said, hi, this is my brother and he needs to open a bank account. This teller has a thing for Jack. They were flirting back and forth while she looked my husband up on the computer. She found him there from years and years ago when he had an account there. She opened a new account. She called WSIB and had the cheque verified right then and there. My husband deposited his cheque and took some cash out. No holds either.

I closed my eyes and thought, thank you. Thank you so much.

We went straight to the insurance company and my husband plopped the money down.  

Saved again.

What a great weekend we had. Okay we were foolish but I didn't care. We ordered in food on Friday night. Went shopping on Saturday and on Sunday. It was fantastic. I don't even remember when I could go out and just spend. There were so many things we needed. It was hard choosing. Pluck it. Buy whatever came to mind. Yah!

I spent four hundred dollars! I bought for two of my daughters, for my husband, for two of my granddaughters and things for the house. It felt so good to be able to buy for my family. It had been so long. I wanted to spoil them and I did.

I knew more money was coming. Wednesday afternoon another cheque came by Purolater. And another cheque.

My husband deposited the cheques in his brand spanking new bank account and had a certified cheque made out to the lawyers office in the amount of eleven thousand dollars. And a couple hundred to spare. He went straight to the delivery company and had it sent out with a void cheque. 

Just in time. Proof of insurance was sent out on Wednesday. The lawyers received the money and void cheque on the last day. Friday June twenty-ninth before closing. 

Saved again.

I have been very fortunate to have so many caring people in my life. Everything in the universe shifted to save the day at the last minute. Thank you.

Do you have a similar story to share? I would love to hear it.

My PTSD Nightmare

The PTSD’s Spouse

I

feel lost most days. I feel like i am wondering in a thick fog with my hands reaching out wildly in the air. My mind races wondering what will hit me next. I am so use to being on high alert I don't remember how to stop and smell the flowers.

It has been a long journey and we are near the finish line. My husband's WSIB claim has been allowed. He will receive loss of earnings, treatment and medicine. Yet I cannot feel relief. I am full of anxiety. Depression still has a strong hold on me. 

A friend of mine shared a saying with me. He roughly translated it to English. He said, "you are so use to eating shit that when someone places a delicious meal in front of you, you are suspicious and think it too will taste like shit."

What does this mean? Exactly as I said earlier. I am so use to being on high alert I don't remember how to stop.

Every once in a while I force myself to slow down and attempt to the tame the beast within. When my mind returns to the past rehashing the hardships, I immediately stop it. When my mind looks to the future bringing the what if scenarios, I stop it. Most times. 

I try to practice mindfulness. I stop and pay conscious attention to what is happening to me at that very moment. For example, on a hot summer day, I sit back in my chair on the front porch enjoying a nice cold glass of cola. I close my eyes and listen to the birds. I revel in the sensation of the slight breeze brushing across my face. I feel my heart beating slower in my chest and tell myself all is well. Once I do this, I am enclosed in the warmth of well being. It doesn't last forever but it helps.

That is one way I cope with what has become of my life. My life as dictated by my husband's PTSD.  I trained myself to do this. I have come to realize that I have unconsciously protected myself by putting distance between my husband and I. Don't get me wrong. I still love him but I don't let him in completely so he can't hurt me with his spite and anger. I can walk away from him easier and not get sucked up into a fight. I'm not saying it doesn't affect me because it does. But it doesn't hit me hard like the flu. More like an infection festering under the skin.

I have nightmares. He's yelling at me and smashing things. He is yelling and hurting everyone I love. Everyone is angry with me. Each way I look, I see hateful faces staring at me. 

Every night I dream of moving out of my home into a decrepit infested apartment. I am crying hysterically because I have uprooted my family to live in this condemned building. I am screaming at my husband for forcing me into this situation. I am scared because the structure is not sound and it could all come tumbling down around us. I don't understand why we can't go home. I feel devastated and abandoned.

I understand what the dreams mean. I feel like my husband upsets so many people who then look at me to blame. I feel no stability or security in our home. I want my husband to be a source of strength for me but he isn't.

It's all just so exhausting. Some days I want to lay down and wait to die. But I have to get up and take care of business. So I drag my sorry ass out of bed again. I work. I clean. I pay the bills. I take care of my family.

I have to say, I keep writing. I wonder if anyone is reading. I have no followers and no comments. 

I would really love to get some feedback people! Good, bad or ugly.

Finding Happiness

L

ast summer I was in the midst of chaos. My husband was raging and my family depressed. I always knew happiness was a choice. Life is what you make it right? 

I used to be a very positive, optimistic person. I believed  everything always works out in the end.  Somewhere, somehow I lost my way.

I use to blame my husband because he was, is the most negative person I knew. Negativity breads negativity. And it is contagious, infecting everyone around it. Hence the depression which took over my entire household.

I couldn't figure out how to to get back to myself. I needed help. Not just for myself but for my husband and my family. So I started researching on the net for ways to find inner peace. 

I actually enjoy researching. When I find something interesting to share I will put it together in a summary and print it off for my family to read. On July 29, 2011, I compiled information I found on the internet and called it Mindfulness and Meditation - Finding Inner Peace and Happiness.

It is a thirty-five page document so I can't share the whole thing with you. All at once anyway. I think I will spread it out it into little snippets so you won't get too bored.

But before I get into my extensive blurb on mindfulness you might want to check out Torrey Shannon's wonderful explanation of mindfulness on her blog. http://torreyshannon.com/2012/04/do-you-really-have-what-it-takes-to-be-happy/

And now my explanation. I see mindfulness as paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment in a non-judgmental way.

I know this sounds simple but it does take practice.

Most of us spend a lot of our time remembering things, imagining possible futures. We rely on habitual patterns that we have developed over the years to react to people and situations. Our automatic pilot takes over and we react instead of paying conscious attention to the people and situations now. We perceive it as oh here we go again.

We all have automatic reactions based on past experiences.  Those experiences which caused feelings of pain, anger, betrayal. We allow the automatic reactions to work for us when we are feeling overwhelmed or stressed.

It takes a great deal of effort to pay attention to what is happening now because our minds are constantly reliving the past or picturing and planing for the future. I call it the broken records because they replay over and over again in our heads.

Oh poop, it is now five minutes past four and my pillow is calling my name.

What is Mindfulness?

W

hat is Mindfulness? Mindfulness as paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment in a non-judgemental way.

How does "paying attention" relate to mindfulness? If you think about it most of us don't really pay attention to what is happening in our lives at that very moment because we spend most of our time thinking about other things. We think about the past and the future.

And it's hard to pay attention when something happens that reminds us of times we were hurt or betrayed. We respond automatically as if those times were happening again.

This brings us to the "on purpose" part of mindfulness. We spend most of our lives on automatic pilot. We don't even try to pay attention to what is happening in our lives and so we don't see new situations as being different. But once we realize that we respond automatically we can make a conscious decision to stop doing it. We can pay attention on purpose to what is happening at the present moment.

How does "in the present moment" relate to mindfulness? Stop right now and think about this. What do you spend most of your time thinking about? If you are like me, you'll see that your mind keeps taking you to memories of the past or daydreams of the future. You are probably also distracted from the moment because your are so busy multi-tasking.

How does "non-judgementally" tie into mindfulness? This is the hardest part to achieve. The non-judgmental quality of mindfulness brings great freedom to see things more clearly, to evaluate situations with some distance from our habitual emotional reactions and impulses, to observe emotions and impulses as they arise without either trying to escape them or letting them carry us away.  

Normally we automatically and instantly judge situations, people and our own thoughts, feelings and behaviour. We think or say negative things like "I can't take this any more!" "He's such an ass hole." "Why me?" "I hate my life!" These negative thoughts can spiral out of control, increasing judgement and stress.

Thoughts like "I need..."  "I want..."  "I deserve..." can also be a problem especially when they are automatic.  We can get caught up in cycles of addiction, self destruction or selfishly taking advantage of others, etc.

"Can you think of time that you were feeling so positive and relaxed that something which would normally cause strong judgment and negative emotions is seen as no big deal, more clearly for what it is: a passing unwanted experience or temptation to indulge." Jim Hopper

Can you imagine feeling like that all the time? Well we can, by practicing mindfulness with kindness.

"And for those who are vulnerable to remembering and reliving painful experiences from the past, to strong waves of emotion, to intense self-criticism – the cultivation of non-judgmental mindfulness can bring tremendous relief and freedom from old patterns." Jim Hopper

Please feel so free to leave a comment. I look forward to hearing from you.

PTSD Affects the Spouse

We Suffer Too

W

e live in Canada.. my husband has PTSD from witnessing an accident at work on a construction site. Many people just don't get it. But you know what? It does not matter what country you live in or how you were injured.  PTSD is PTSD.

Yes it is hard on the person who has PTSD but it is also very hard on those who love and live with them. We suffer too.  I believed my husband when he spat out hateful lies at me. I could do no right. I was a failure to my children and a useless human being.

Most days I would wake and think I hate my life. I had to break that record in my head and replace it with, "today is a great day to be alive". "I am grateful for another day" and I count my blessings.

Actually it is more than just thinking happy thoughts.  It is changing my whole way of thinking. It works well enough that I manage to get through the day. But there are times like today which I cannot pull myself up and out of the sinking sand. I guess I am a work in progress.

I am just sad. No particular reason. And this pisses him off. I don't understand that!  He wants to know what is wrong with me. That is a laugh. I just look away into the distance. I am too tired to talk. 

Pleading For Help

Letter of Depression

T

his is a copy of a letter that I emailed to our local MPP's office. At this point my husband has been to the MPP's office several times speaking to to Nick, the MPP's assistant. My husband wanted me to write to Nick. I didn't and still don't understand why but he insisted and growled at me until I wrote the email. I don't think in the scheme of things that it made a difference to Nick or my husband's case but I actually felt better after writing it. Have a read.

Hi Nick,

You don't know me but you have met my husband. I am not sure what he has told you. But last week I was so depressed and crying because i just had nothing left in me to keep going. He leaned toward me and said to stop worrying. He explained that you told him to stop worrying, that you would take care of it. It was enough reassurance that I could get up and kiss our honey bunny good night.

I didn't really believe that everything was going to be okay. These last three - four years have been a living nightmare. The constant anxiety, the butterflies in my stomach, my heart racing, the urge to rip my hair out and run around screaming. The problems with money, the problems living with someone who has PTSD . . .

As you know, my husband has not been working. He has been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. His WSIB claim is pending and Disability takes forever.

We are always in arrears with the mortgage so the threat of foreclosure is always looming over our heads. Actually, I feel alone in this. My husband just doesn't seem to get the importance of paying our bills. Maybe it is his prescriptions or his PTSD. I don't know.

I have a three year old and a sixteen year old that I am responsible for. And of course my husband who cannot contribute financially, emotionally or physically (around the house). I can't afford food or keep up the bills.

In the fall of 2010, Union Gas disconnected our gas. I was carrying pots of boiled water up the stairs to the bathtub so our Hunny Bunny could have a warm bath. (The rest of us tolerated ice showers.) I ended up slipping and falling down the stairs and breaking my ankle. I had surgery on Saturday night and went home Sunday afternoon. I went to work on Monday because I couldn't afford to take any time off. I don't know if you have had a broken a bone like that -requiring screws, but the pain was excruciating.

My husband's car is sitting in the driveway. We have been using it for parts to keep my car going so I can get to work. We can't drive once it gets dark because the rear lights don't work. Someone slashed all four tires last spring then a few weeks later smashed the rear passenger door window. Someone thought I was lying when I told them what has been happening because no one has that much bad luck.

Did you know that Union Gas can shut off your gas in the fall and then when winter comes and you still have not paid the bill, your family can just freeze?

Did you know that Cambridge North Dumfries Hydro can shut off your electricity in the summer. That means no cooking, no hot water because the water heater requires electricity, no lights, nothing....

Did you know that we cannot get any kind of assistance because I make too much money?

I need to see light at the end of the tunnel. I am literally losing my mind.

We are going to lose our home. Nothing like kicking a person when they are already down. We were financially in a good place, now it has all fallen apart. I had to cash in RRSPs. I am being garnished for credit card debt. We racked up the cards trying to get by. I have borrowed from almost everyone I know. We are at the end now. No one else can lend me the money I need to catch up the mortgage again. The bank has sent the mortgage to the lawyers to initiate foreclosure. WE CAN'T LOSE OUR HOME. Please help us. Please. . .

Sincerely,
Darlene Nemeth

Was He Dismissed Because of His PTSD?

Dismissal

H

e knew it was coming long before it happened. He felt he was being treated differently. He thought there was some kind of conspiracy brewing  with his superiors to get rid of him. He was the scapegoat for problems with production.

I listened with a grain of salt. Back then everyone was out to get him. If it wasn't the people at work, it was the the guy driving behind him, the girl at the Tim Horton's drive thru, the neighbours, his sister, my family, the kids or me.

I didn't really believe they were trying to get rid of him. It just did't make any sense. There was no paper trail of reprimands. He was knowledgeable and a senior employee. He was able to get his crew to complete work that his predecessors couldn't do. He was a valuable member of the team and it would be hard to replace someone with his experience and knowledge.

Well, they called it restructuring within the organization. Sales were down. They had to cut costs. No hard feelings. 

He was furious. There were so many other employees who had been there for less time. He trained many of them the procedures at this site because he brought his experience with him from the previous site. He wrote the procedural manual for crying out loud. Why was he being walked out the door?

It was a vendetta. That guy didn't like him because Gary stood up for himself and his crew. And that guy didn't want someone who was a thinker who tried to make improvements; he just wanted a "yes" man or maybe a mini-me to do his bidding. 

I think they got rid of him because he wasn't able to perform at the same level as before. 

I guess we will never really know the truth. But it's out there. Isn't it?

Wrongful Dismissal

A

s time passed my husband became more furious. He was consumed by it. He was obsessing about it. We talked about it. Restructuring? What a feeble attempt to cover up a wrongful dismissal

So he went to a lawyer who took his case. This lawyer didn't want a retainer and he would wait for payment until the settlement cheque came in. A dream come true right? It was for my husband. Even when the lawyer said he wanted twenty five percent, or was it thirty percent of the net, the dream remained because this meant someone else believed him.

I'll just cut to the chase. If only we knew then what we know now. I don't believe in regrets. There is a reason for the things which happen to us and it has made us who we are today.  And hopefully we have learned from those experiences. But this lawyer? This lawyer did not have my husband's best interest at heart. 

If Only We Knew Then

I

t seemed to take forever for the negotiations to be over. We thought it was because the lawyer was trying to get as much as he could. After all the more he obtained for my husband, the more he would receive. 

By the time the government took their share, and the lawyer got his share, my husband got a few thousand dollars. That just did not seem right to me. After five years of service? There should have been more especially at his pay rate. And then to pour salt into the wound, E.I. clawed it back so we weren't any further ahead.

Clawed back. A term I just learned. While on E.I. benefits you have to claim all income and they will reduce your benefit amount. Well, as soon as the cheque came in for the wrongful dismissal, E.I. informed Gary that he had been overpaid and now owed the government a few thousand dollars.

If only we knew then what we know now. My husband could have gotten a lot more money. And there should have been a way to prevent the clawed back.

Maybe my husband was right. Everyone is out to get him. And take advantage of him.