So today, my manager had me sign a warning. I wish I would get pissed about it. I wish I would feel a little bit upset. Or maybe a bit remorseful, even though I know and my peers know that I don’t deserve it. But the truth is I can’t feel anything. Maybe I’m still in shock. Maybe I’m in denial. Maybe a part of me thinks the drugs I’ve been taking is causing hallucinations. Maybe I don’t really give a shit anymore. Maybe I think this being and working in Canada over rated. And I think it was the things that happened last Thursday that has pushed me to apathy.
I wish I can even cry right now. After all, when I get so angry and frustrated my tear ducts go hyperdrive and I end up crying which makes me more pissed because I don’t want anyone seeing me cry. But I can’t even cry anymore. I’m sitting here waiting for the tears to start falling but nothing comes out my eyes. No tears. No pain. I guess even my tears quit on me after having to fight them back everyday at work.
Especially last Thursday. I knew then that I can cry inside the freezer. No one could hear me there. I could’ve sobbed with all gusto and the hum of it’s fans will filter all the sounds I make. I could’ve bawled and be able to compose myself by the time I get out. Piece of cake. But again, I didn’t. I couldn’t cry anymore.
Crying doesn’t really make me feel better, honestly. It only reminds me how pathetic my life is here. Moving and working in Canada is the stupidest decision I’ve made so far. Sure I get to save so much money here. Sure I get to give my parents a better opportunity when they plan to retire later. Sure I get to have a broader experience here that would most likely be useful later on. Sure. Fucking sure. And in exchange, all I have to do is sacrifice my self-esteem as my manager will reprimand me anywhere I am to tell me how wrong wrong wrong I am and they’re so right right right without even asking what happened. Forget what I know about clarity and communication because of so many mixed signals and instructions to me and none of them trying to even equip you with skills how to do. Basically, I have to do their instructions no matter how or what. Don’t even look around to compare because even if they say they don’t discriminate the mere fact that only the Filipinos take the 4 AM schedule all the time and work 7 straight days without overtime pay makes one wonder. And even if I have a valid reason for whatever they’re yapping about, I must remember to just swallow my reasons, nod my head and say “it won’t happen again” because they’re right, they’re always right and so right whatever reason I have anyway is nullified.
Take that kind of treatment every fucking day. And then try to even go the extra mile like help receive the delivery where you have to endure -24℃ while moving and carrying boxes, or clean all three ovens without being provided with the proper equipment to the detriment of your lungs, or clean all the hoppers, baking trays, base boards, fridge and freezers, or inform them which stocks are low because they didn’t do proper inventory, or do work totally unrelated to your position like refill creamer, make ice cap, make coffee for counter just to help move the line faster, do the dishes. Do everything for everyone as long as you don’t expect a “thank you”. Because you will never hear it. Because it’s so easy to see a glass half empty than a glass half full. Because it’s so easy for them to criticize you for what you have not done than what you have done. And when they criticize you they’d careless for how it would feel, as long as they put their point across. Bottom line is, because they paid for your way to Canada you owe them so much that you’re expected to work but not feel tired or pain or hurt or confused or even sick.
Maybe just today, I can’t cry. Maybe tomorrow, I’d cry again. Even if crying doesn’t give me any consolation I still wish I would cry and be red in the face and end up sobbing and breathe convulsively. As much as I feel empty I know that there is an underlying pain somewhere inside of me which I want to feel. I'd rather feel something, anything, rather than nothing. As much as I hate what they’re doing to me and my psyche I can’t allow myself to become someone insensitive, temperamental, and impervious. Because if I become that, I’d be like them as well.
L | June 5, 2009 at 10:21 PM
I'm sorry to read about this D.
I'd like to say "hang in there it's all part of the process" but what good would that do you?
Anyways. I get you. I understand. I'm on your side.