- alias used due to content that might cause trouble for certain people if revealed
I would like to decide it started then- when the income earner in the family decided that my grades were abysmal- that my carefree life was falling apart, which was not true as everything was collapsing years before but now revealed itself quite clearly. The statement went something like this: "Your letter grades aren't bad, but the way they vary so much from subject to subject reveals too much about what your weaknesses are. I would rather you have straight Cs than of as in one subject and Ds in another." This was back in middle school, when I still did not understand the implication of those words; I realize it now, that those words were clear signal of paranoia in the workplace.
Emotional instabilities in the workplace are not restricted to the confines of the workplace. Its effects extend far beyond the boundaries of co-workers, managers and clients; with its effects lasting much longer than just a ‘simple period of instability.’There are the more apparent cases of this—the shootings done by people who return to their former jobs after have been laid off- which then affect the victims’families. However, the case that I wish to point out is not one which has shocked countries or states, but of a more quiet circumstance that I would like to believe could be just as impactful; the case I wish to point out is my own childhood, when I was being given advice from the bread-winner undergoing paranoia.
The lead-up to such a situation came from this: we were foreigners. My parents were already paranoid: paranoid of being deported for whatever minor infringements they might make, and paranoid of my father not being able to keep or find new jobs if the current one went out. We were, in part, seeking for a better existence than before—earning higher income than we would in our home country, seeking a more peaceful lifestyle by getting away from the mandatory military service for men in that country (which was recently abolished). With that, my parents passed along their own paranoia to us, the children, by constantly reminding us of what they were doing for us without realizing what they were doing to us.
With the on-going paranoia, everything that lead to (or rather would have lead to) a bitter end was set up. In third grade, on vacation in an amusement park no less, my father throws a fit, banning me from riding amusement park rides for the rest of the day. Why, you ask? It was because in the LegoMindstorms exhibit in LegoLand where they allowed children to play with the toys (with parent guidance if they were not of a certain age limit), I threw a fit because he didn’t listen to what I said about how the parts should have gone together and operated and thus failed to have a working robot. I wasn’t leaving until he acknowledged that he was wrong. Honestly, he should have just admitted he was wrong and been done with it, but he did not. After managing to get me outside after just about flat-out lying that we could go again, he tells me that I was not allowed to go on any more rides for the rest of the day—then follows up with demanding me to do certain actions that were below me, and I do mean below anyone with any bit of intelligence at the age of 9. While waiting for my siblings who were enjoying their rides, my “father” would demand that I go up to Lego statues and wave to them as if they were alive. That was not all—my parents would couple it up with the threat of sending me back to my home country for their mandatory military service because I was disobedient. So the end of the vacation comes around after the following days with my faith in them and just about everything in tatters-- with a grudge on the back of my mind.
This was the lead-up to everything else that followed. With less faith, there was more conflict. With more conflict, there was less attachment. And with that, we lead up to the main incident that set everything off to my [theoretical] death.
Because I stayed behind after class to clean up in 7th grade, I would end up chatting with the teacher. Somehow, we ended up on a topic on home, how I did not enjoy being at home much and that I did not like my father particularly much. She relayed said message to the office, which then relayed their concern to my parents. My parents did not mention any of this for the long duration of a few years. My father was dealing with work, and with this mention probably felt that he wasn’t being appreciated much for all he had done (which, unfortunately, he was appreciated at the time regardless of like or dislike—but he did not know that). This in turn lead to more rough and violent behavior, which lead to very poor management of the time I got suspended from class for being allegedly causing a disruption in class by calling someone something inappropriate (it was the other person who actually made the ruckus) and being disobedient by not returning to my seat and doing the pointless work of copying a printout by hand onto another sheet of paper (which we never ended up using). The supplemented reason because the previous did not seem enough to warrant a suspension was because I had apparently called that teacher a bitch, which I did not—I had called her a witch, following what someone I considered a friend called her due to her poor judgment of who was actually in the wrong and coincidentally punishing said friend(s) constantly. That was how far my attachment to school had become due to my situation at home.
At that point in time, the situation at home was rather miserable and boring. My father was almost never at home, coming home after long hours of work; and my mother was busy with housework and everyone’s extracurricular classes. The only sources of entertainment were the television and videogames, both of which we were not allowed to access unless we finished assignments. If we were caught, we would get punished. If we lied or tried to get out of it, we’d get punished—and punishment involved standing straight against a wall for hours, with a smack if we weren’t standing straight enough or dared to talk back or not pay attention. My ‘father’ abused that quite often, and it seemed like something to relieve his stress unbeknownst to him. They absolutely hated everything I did to try to alleviate my own stress, which would be loudly ranting out loud to the wall, throwing items that would not break around the room, slamming doors unintentionally—which then lead to more punishment. With just about nothing left, I was ready to go off somewhere and simply die. I had also intended to take the house down with me as well, though neither of those occurred; and I feel there is a need to mention that there is no need to worry about such happening in the future either as years have passed since that time, just so you know.
Now, let us rewind to better examine some circumstances within these mentioned events in life, starting from the top. When I first heard that father would rather have me achieving straight C’s or A’s as opposed to my spread of a few A’s to B’s to C’s, I thought he was crazy. Those words still do not sound sane, even today; however, I do understand where he is coming from now. During those years, the company he was working for was downsizing and was bought out soon enough. The situation of the company seemed quite similar to the one in told by Joshua Ferris in his book Then We Came to the End. It seemed the people were set to get the others in trouble if it would save their hides. Joe Pope from the novel was a worker who worked late, and thus became an easy target for any occurrences such as being set up with miscellaneous material from other workers’ offices. This incidence brought my attention back to the words my father said: never be the last person to leave because if something went wrong overnight you will take the fall. Every single last step was needed to stay in the clear those days—and that was why he told me to minimize or make my weaknesses less apparent during those days.
Despite those pep talks from father, there was a considerable lack of parental guidance—and any type of parental guidance was quite lackluster at best. My father worked late, if not already apparent from his mention of being the last to leave work; he would usually return home sometime between 8 to 9 PM with occasions of returning home past 10 and/or bringing work home with him. My mother would be preoccupied with tasks such as delivering my two older siblings to their after school lessons or dropping me off for mine—thus resulting in a severe lack of personal interactions at home. My home situation was nearing the border of what could be classified as one with parents working a “nonstandard” work schedule. A review of studies in parental nonstandard(NS) work schedule highlights this: “parental NS work schedules… have negative consequences for the developing child with regards to mental health and behavioral problems, cognitive development, overweight and obesity, and other related outcomes” (Li Jianhong, et al). While there was never an issue of becoming overweight or obese for me, I had definitely seen my share of mental health and behavioral problems. I had not realized any inhibition to cognitive development until much later, when I would begin tracing back to each event to try to feel where I might have ended up should a variety of events occurred differently in life. I certainly would not be here typing out this long chatter about the past had events turned out differently.
Speaking of issues of mental health, there are several consequences of the entire series of events that persist even today that should be mentioned, as well as some more widespread effects that could have occurred. On both sides, the office worker and the dependant, there were effects of prolonged stress and of violent and suppressed anger. According to Mayo Clinic, prolonged stress raises the risk of anxiety, depression, digestive problems, heart disease, sleep problems, weight gain, and memory and concentration impairment (Mayo Clinic). These risks are compounded with the effects of high levels of anger; which Kubanzky, an expert on the subject, states that “people who hurl objects or scream at others may be at greater risk for heart disease, as well as those who harbor suppressed rage” (as cited in Kam). Due to the constant back and forth on both sides, my mother and I suffered from depression and are currently suffering from heart disease—mine mostly undiagnosed and my mother’s somewhat diagnosed; which I am also currently suffering from during my long hours attempting to finish assignments for my assortment of classes. To put the situation into perspective, I have only begun my 20s in age; so, these health issues are likely not due to age.
My current situation should be the least of worries that anyone dealing with workplace anxiety. As I mentioned before, I had considered suicide due to the entire series of episodes between me and my father. Had I done so, there would have been considerable consequences throughout the neighborhood—which would result in much more dire effects for the ones in the epicenter. With suicide, those who “survived” are more likely to be judged harshly or judge themselves harshly than if the person who died had done so in another manner such as in an accident (Cerel et al.). My current roommate has dealt with and is currently still dealing with this factor. For years, he has lived regretting not stopping his friend from killing himself whether or not it was within his power to do so. One of the lasting signs his friend’s death is his need to confirm whether or not someone is fine, then ask again to make absolutely sure that the person in question is fine. Now, imagine the effect multiplied over 15 times. It is a gigantic ripple on a rather grand, depressing scale. Recall the statement that there was nothing to worry about regarding me and suicide? It is thus that I will likely not choose such method for my death anymore; unless all hope is lost, which is extraordinarily unlikely to happen.
Emotional instability from the workplace reaches far beyond the bounds of the workplace. Its effects are clearly long lasting, regardless of whether or not it results in someone’s death. With someone’s death, the effects become much more widespread and much more permanent. After all, there is no method for bringing back the dead within existence. So, although we had moved to this land for a better existence, it is rather hard to say that the end result is so. Perhaps we are better off than we would have been; it is likely we are better off; however, with all that has occurred, it is difficult to say.
Please Refer to the Annotated Bibliography page for references used.
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