Tag: creative writing

We Need to Talk About Toxic Work Environments

Why does no one talk about toxic work environments? We need to talk about the feeling of dread and despair in the bottom of your stomach when you realize it’s time to return to work.

That feeling of being so exhausted no matter how much sleep you try to get. Eight, nine, ten hours…it’s no use. You’re still drained. Emotionally, mentally, physically. Sleep. Diet. Exercise. Nothing seems to help.

You don’t have the energy to do anything but no matter how much you try to “rest”, your body is still exhausted. It’s like your body decided one day to just give up.

We need to talk about that feeling of walking on eggshells, of working constantly and hoping that nothing you do or say will get you in trouble. That feeling of being watched, that feeling that someone is waiting for you to make a mistake so they can pounce on you.

That feeling of hoping that with all the hours you put in, all the exhaustion you’re feeling, you DON’T make a mistake because if you do that could cost you your job.

We need to talk about watching our friends and colleagues being forced out of jobs and fired. That feeling of heartbreak for them and their families. And then wondering, is it better to be forced out? Is it better to be left without an income but with your mental health scarred but not totally damaged. No, not yet. Or is it better to have money and watch as your mental health declines and slowly by slowly you lose all sense of self?

That feeling of seeing friends leaving jobs they’ve held for years and years just because your job has turned toxic. That hurt in your heart knowing that it was not supposed to be like this. That something somewhere has gone terribly gone.

But you don’t know what the issue is or how to fix it. So you sit quietly and you drag yourself to work. You walk on your eggshells and you hope for the best. That something someday will change.

Writing Wednesday: The Beginning of the End

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Have you ever felt pain so crippling that it ate at you slowly, piece by piece? Pain that intense can make you crazy. It can make you do things you’d never think of doing before.
I stood on my balcony, looking over at the city of London.
London was beautiful at night and this night was no exception.
I felt a twinge of regret for what I was about to do. I would be spoiling the beauty of London with my act.
But it needed to be done. I could no longer live an existence of pain.
I gripped the railing tightly before climbing over.
I heard a scream from below.
“Somebody is going to jump!”
I was running out of time.
“Mummy’s coming, sweetheart,” I promised my daughter.
And with those words, I pushed myself forward, eager to reunite with my child.
The last thing I felt was the icy air as the ground rose to meet me.

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