The Truck, the Commodore and the Fallout #50

Post 49
On the 15th May 1998 I was involved in car V truck accident, that saw a commodore shortened by 3 foot either end. The following entries are from a diary I kept at the time.

It’s now 13 years later and the pain is still here – the TAC of course have wiped their hands of me. I learnt a long time ago that the only person you can rely on is you and it’s something that has stood me in good stead for longer than I can remember.

3rd November 1999

That’s it. I’m officially unemployed. The bastard finally got the better of me. I can’t help it if I am unable to help him on the production line. (I was employed as a bookkeeper) and yet he continues to ask and in doing so makes me feel like a heel. …….. He said I had better re-evaluate my position within the company. My response as that I quit. He said put it in writing so I did.

………. In some respects I feel relieved that I no longer have to say no and that I am no longer being pressured into doing what I can not. I still haven't assessed to what extent I feel guilty, but I do. I also wonder why I feel guilty. Why should I feel guilt about a pig who doesn’t seem to care about anyone but himself?

……. Since I am unable to do process work and that cost me my job (remember I’m a bookkeeper) and I am unable to do continuous data-entry, then that limits my ability to find work. The doctor agrees and as such has written a certificate, which I took immediately to the TAC. Supposedly the TAC will cover my wages, but I have to wait and see. They may determine that since I have been working all this time I am not eligible. This is not really the solution I have been looking for as previously discussed. But I have no other options YET.

I’ve spent the day at the CES applying for a job seeker number so that I can look for work………..

The doctor has given me a month off, It would be kind of nice not to have to rush everywhere. I would not be sore and tired if I didn’t have to work. But I can’t afford not to work. Regardless of where I am working or not, I would be travelling the same amount of kilometres, I would be getting up at the same time. The only benefit would be that I would be able to go a little slower with the housework and not continue when the pain was so bad that I need to pop pills.

At least for the moment the tears have stopped. I was feeling some self pity earlier ……….

I was sick of the verbal abuse. Which I received on almost a daily, certainly weekly basis. Many of these instances have been documented here. Not because I have a grudge, but because it made life a lot easier to deal with once I had gotten the poison out of my system.

Can you imagine what it is like being told you are useless, that your body is a machine and if it doesn’t work throw it out, can you imagine how demoralising this can be coming from your boss?

I put up with the abuse for as long as possible. It’s not my fault I was involved in two accidents in six months. I took as little time off as possible and I get kicked in the teeth for it.

…………….. All I can say is that I tried and it wasn’t enough.

Can you imagine what it is like going to pick up your youngest child to find him cowering under the kitchen table screaming for his mother. I felt like a heel, all because I tried to organise an appointment after hours and they were running late. It took me two weeks to recover and my son three weeks to forgive me. Everytime I left him he screamed blue murder, thinking I was leaving him forever. I felt like picking him up and taking him right back home where he felt same.

Now, because I have no job, the holiday (two nights) we had booked we are cancelling. We can’t afford to go, with the finances under such a cloud. ……… It would have been the last weekend before Christmas that we would have been able to go. …….. It’s no use crying over spilt milk, I just screwed the family over AGAIN. I feel like it is all my fault. In some respects it is. I shouldn’t have let the boss cower me like that. I feel like the dog that has run away from his master after being flogged for two years.

Post 51


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