Bullying and Disability Discrimination

My mother and brother are incredibly unsupportive about any kind of disability so I rowed with the latter last Sunday. The former helpfully suggested that I may wish not to disclose my disabilities to any future enployer. Gee thanks.

I am therefore technically still employed at the care home (well, as much as anyone can be on a pesky zero hours contract.) I attended a domestic staff team meeting yesterday afternoon and was sat facing one of the bullies. It wasn't nice, nor was the content of the meeting, quite frankly.

Anyway, today is the day I bit the bullet and made a formal written complaint about the discrimination and bullying I'd been experiencing during the six week period I'd worked there. The General Manager replied straight away, asking me to come in for a meeting next week, so I phoned the job retention officer at the local charity and sought his advice. He suggested that I make myself unavailable. I will be doing that as she made me burst into tears back in July.

2024: The Year of Crap Jobs

The problem with having a gap in one’s CV the size of the Mariana Trench is that the only escape is via National Minimum Wage (NMW) jobs. Please allow me to elaborate.

In June I attained a job in a local branch of Wetherspoons. It paid £11.67 or suchlike (NMW is, at time of writing, £11.44). This particular building contained far too many steps as it is a converted bank and bizarrely had two roof gardens!? The app made it more of a waitressing job and the shifts were all over the shop. The pub closed at midnight and clearup took 90 minutes to two hours, so I ended up getting home at half two in the morning. I managed a total of three shifts, resigning with immediate effect.

In July I forwarded my CV to a local care home. They were offering zero hour bank care work, so I was duly interviewed and offered the job on the same day. Unlike Wetherspoons I was given a whole raft of paperwork to complete and then a huge amount of online training. I attended an in-house 'moving and handling' course, finding that everyone there had worked in care since leaving school, unlike me. 

I had a really bad reaction to the CPR etraining, allied to the fact that I was being interviewed for a DfE role on the same day. This led to me seeking assistance from a local disability charity. The head of retention came along to a meeting with me, the General Manager and her deputy. It wasn't great - I was admonished for not declaring that I had bipolar and I didn't accept the job.

Time went on ... I was interviewed for office jobs and a Co-op role. Nothing succeeded. I then decided to re-look at the care home job and I started on 9th September. The first week was great - I was shadowing an absolutely lovely Care Assistant, but sadly this wasn't yo last.

My second weekend (Saturday 8am-8pm and Sunday 8am-8pm) was bloody awful. There was an absolutely foul care assistant I was teamed with on Saturday who picked on me all day. She and the senior care assistant made me accompany one of the residents to A&E, meaning that I was there for hours and ended up having to call the Deputy Manager to relieve me. On the Sunday there was a bossy Care Assistant who was a nightmare to work for so I ended up in tears, going home early. Following this, I did ask the deputy manager for Reasonable Adjustments via email, but they were never granted.

I worked there for twelve shifts in total. Although I never completed another 12-hour care shift, I didn't like it as the atmosphere was so strange, cliquey and unfriendly. I'd already changed my number to a burner phone so that I'd never see the WhatsApp messages which popped up all day every day. 

I don't regret it whatsoever.

Post #192 - Reach Out ... Be Rejected?

Now, I cannot recall whether I said that I used to be a member of the local branch of a national mental health charity's online regular quiz, music and general chat sessions?  Well, I was, but I won't name the charity in question because it'll be outing.  I left it because I got fed up with certain members' actions within the group, became bored with moaning about it to management and quite frankly, I think that I'm ready to be released back into the wild.  My bipolar and autism dual diagnosis doesn't seem to cope well with too much contact with other people with mental health problems nor others with autism.  That said, I do have a couple of excellent friends who have MH issues and we understand one another very well and I'd never abandon them, but I know them IRL and they've both known me for way over a decade.  I am a spiky person - like those darn spiny things on Mario:

There was one woman, let's call her Shaz, whom was a long-time member of the quiz group and who later on joined the music appreciation sessisons.  I really liked her and we had bantz - although it was an online group and we'd never actually met in person.  Until her recent retirement she was working, although thinking back, she might have been a permanent homeworker, but who can tell these days?  The morning session of the time before Easter that I decided to leave altogether, which wasn't a particularly nice day as the Police turned up on my doorstep following my report of sexual assault (see earlier posts ...) I offered her a book my son was gifted once on the Titanic as this is one of Shaz's  passions - she had various framed photographs and diagrams of the doomed vessel hanging on the walls of her flat.  Now I think about it ... MH problems?  Special interests?  I think that you know what I'm inferring but I won't say it ...

I passed on my deets (as the kids say) via the group leader and received a call a few days later (which I missed because I was napping).  This led to a text exchange which wasn't hugely friendly as Shaz stated that due to her physical disability she was unable to leave the house and that if I left the book in the charity's offices, her husband would pick it up.  I agreed but felt a bit, well, cheated.  I was kind of hoping that we could meet for a quick coffee but clearly she didn't want this.  When I dropped the book off this morning even the charity's receptionist seemed surprised at Shaz's rather odd behaviour, also believing that meeting up for a coffee and chat would have been much better than this rather strange way of operating.  I then WhatsApped Shaz to confirm that I've dropped the book off and then blocked her.  I know this sounds a bit odd, but if that's the way she is then I don't need or wish for any more contact as I don't want to start a row.  

Things will be better once I'm back at work as I'll just go to work, come home, contact my existing friends and then concentrate on my son.  That's the way it is.  

Post #191 - I don't even want to host my husband's belated wake ...

 ... well, I don't.  It would have taken place on a day next week which would have been his sixty-fourth birthday.  I just cannot bring myself to clean this house and prepare it for people to visit - I know that it's only really close family but I don't even really want them here if truth be told.  We would have scattered some of the ashes in one of the Royal Parks and the rest in a ruined abbey but there are so many of them that I've decided to scatter a flaskfull in each location and then either bury the rest in our back garden or line ceramic pots with them and grow nice plants on top.  

Why?  Well, that farrago that was Easter Sunday still rankles with me and I've got the grazed finger joints on my right hand to prove it.  One of the sofas is in the front sitting room and the other is in what I've called the laundry lounge - ie Master Logic's space, formerly used as the dining room/laundry/gym/art studio.  Actually, what is the point of dining rooms in today's modern world?  Surely they hark back to a time when families used to eat together, something we never do and totally alien to Master Logic's strange autistic world.   

Post #190 - Victim Impact Statement

My sexual assault case is NFA which means 'No Further Action' which is fine by me.  I was advised by the PC who visited me this morning to contact Victim Support to submit a Victim Impact Statement, which I will do tomorrow.  Apparently Victim Support have been attempting to contact me, but as my voicemail has been off because of all of the hassle I was receiving from Camden Council regarding my late husband's brother's issues.  

Anyway, this is where that particular thing ends.  It's also the conclusion of my involvement as a volunteer with the Friends [environmental] group.  As two of my reports to the Police were directly related to there, I think that I can conclude that it's a pernicious place and I'm not suited to being there in an official or semi-official capacity.  I was never one of the chosen ones anway and despite having a BA in Medieval and Early Modern History, my expertise was never welcomed nor utilised.  

*Update*

 Victim Support referred me to a charity called the London Survivor's Gateway.  I tried phoning them and ended up in a huge queue.  It was painful holding on, so I eventually hung up.  There was no email address earlier so I left it there.  Clearly such charities are overwhelmed and my case just didn't seem worthy enough.  

Post #189 - Easter 2024

Yesterday I visited my parents, having cooked a splendid (even if I say so myself!) toad in the hole and a Bird's trifle in a box.  Clearly my recent bereavement has made me even more arsey, but my temper is very short these days.  Arranging the day was a pain in the arse - apparently I must be as explicit as possible in regard to planning my visits(!)  Dad picked me up and helped me pack all of the food up but hey, as soon as we arrived my brother and his over-enthusiastic golden retriever, Honey, were there and if you know that breed then you'll no doubt be aware that they're very bouncy indeed and we almost dropped the trifle as a result.  My brother is very like his canine housemate in so many years, despite being in his mid-late forties at time of writing.  

It was the usual festival of odd chez parents.  We were just finishing our lunchtime meal (aforementioned toad-in-the-hole, boiled frozen veg, watery gravy ...) when my brother rang the landline, suggesting a trip out to the largest park in the borough.  As you might already be aware, my mother's mobility is seriously compromised by her balance and resulting lack of confidence in walking.  Look - it was hideous - it was horribly muddy due to all of the recent rainfall, my mother had a hiking pole in one hand and my stepfather's paw in the other - all of the time the family (consisting, additionally of my brother, sister-in-law and two teen nieces)  So - we decided to move both cars and head for the nearest road, which meant covering a huge boggy area.  My mother struggled, my brother offered to give her a piggy back(!) and I fell over and then gave them both a piece of my mind.  I then escaped, walked to the nearest exit and was picked up in my stepfather's car - I said to my eldest niece "your father's a complete idiot!"  Harsh, but fair.

My stepfather later told me that we should have gone to a much more suitable park with a nearby car park and proper concrete paths.  He, as ever, was absolutely correct.  

Post #188 - Mea Culpa

OK, yes, I was wrong ... but let's admit it, WhatsApp group are tricky, right? Especially when there are no rules to comprehend. I suppose that common decency is paramount? Anyway, I'm back in the fold, so to speak.

This afternoon's survey was fine and I was finally able to discover the woman's name who so upset me back in January. What an officious person she was.