I’ve been having a bit of coaching to get my life back on track. I hope she doesn’t mind me mentioning it, but Ann Lewis of “Recover Your Balance” fame has been helping me out a bit.
It’s not easy. I’m sure it’s not easy for her either. Sometimes I’m uncomfortable about questions being asked; sometimes I want to throw my toys out of the pram and stubbornly refuse to answer another question. But I’ve learned that’s precisely when I have a breakthrough. That’s the moment I realise something valuable about myself. Dark before the dawn I suppose.
I put my recovery squarely at the feet of my coach. The gravity of what I went through may have changed me forever, but the coaching has helped me begin to embrace the new me; who I am post HOWARD’S audio commentary.
So the events last Wednesday must be something to do with all this. It started innocently enough. I agreed to see a play with an old friend. Her husband had agreed to watch the kids so she was free for the night. My workplace bullying book first draft was locked away so I thought it would be nice to do something different. It was at a theatre I’d never been to and I didn’t know the title of the drama.
My friend and I met in an arty bar, which made me feel a bit old and out of it. I stuck to diet Coke and when other fabulous friends of hers turned up and offered to buy drinks I was determined to stay sober. It’s a school night so to speak. I enjoyed the play (even though half of it was over my head).
Afterwards, I realised my friend knew the cast, the writer and the director. We all headed into town for a few celebratory drinks and, for the first time in a long time, I let myself go a bit. I’ve not enjoyed myself so much in years. I forgot the time. I forgot myself. I was fun and cheeky and, well, alive.
Of course, the next morning it was a different story. Six years since my last hangover and little could prepare me for the struggle into work on Thursday. No amount of painkillers, hot early morning shower, coffee or endless gallons of water could ease the feeling of molten liquid lapping around in my skull. My eyes were hot and heavy. I felt irritable and sullen. It was the anti-climax of course. Surrounded by new friends who encouraged the writer in me – I was in my element. The next morning I felt like I was being tortured as I typed away, leashed to my desk by my set of earphones.
Sometimes these things are opportunities. It’s only in times of real crisis we get to strip everything back and ask, “Who am I and what do I want?”
HOWARD forced me to ask the question and Ann Lewis is helping me find the answer. See, in everything there's a positive and negative.
I’ve just got to lay off the Pinot Grigio.
See you soon
- Bullied By The Boss
- Welcome to my blog. My pen name is Eva James. I'm an aspiring writer paying the bills working as a legal secretary. Relentlessly bullied by my former boss, I looked for another job but the recession hit. Feeling trapped, I recorded everything in this blog, which serves as a revealing insight into workplace bullying. WEEK 1 starts the story and, as the weeks progress, you'll note what starts as banter soon spirals out of control. Sadly, it's all true. Whilst along the way I've found alternative employment, my passion for blogging about workplace bullying remains. Trevor Griffiths, legendary theatre, TV and film writer said at the outset, "I like the writing a lot: smart, cool, placed. If you were prepared/able to take your prick of a boss on, you'd marmelise him."