Scarred
Author: Colormist
I thought I’d post a little update now that I’ve escaped the clutches of ICE.
ICLE has scarred me. I’m like that abused dog you see in the street. I flinch when I hear certain words, when people ask me to do things, and I have nightmares about that place.
I’ve had pretty consistent nightmares about ICE since my escape. The dreams usually consist of me stopping back on my lunch break to visit Mavvy and Sharpie (even though I know Sharpie’s no longer there) and being held against my will by Stepzilla. I keep saying out loud that I had to get back to my job. Stepzilla gives me piles of work to finish and I’m told that I’m not allowed to leave until they’re finished. I looked pleadingly at Hasselhoff, but he just says, “Just do what she tells you.” Needless to say, these dreams usually end with me losing my job, Stepzilla hiring me back, firing me, then (of course) I lose my home.
I’m also having a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to doing work at my new job. I mean, I do the work and I like the work, but every time someone asks me to do something, I think they’re punishing me.
Then there are these certain words that make me want to yell in protest. Normal words like, “creativity”, “designer”, “pretty”, and “marketing”.
I overhead someone say, “we can get Marketing to do…” and I just about screamed in protest. It was in a meeting that I wasn’t even a part of, and I just about started arguing about a department doing work—a department that I’m not even a part of.
Then I wince when I hear the word pretty. I’m expecting it as an insult, but they mean it as a compliment. I presume they’re very confused when I give a wounded look and/or look of hatred.
People also use the word “creativity” and “design” in positive context. They aren’t spitting venom and glaring at me like I’m an idiot. They actually talk in a general basis and refer that EVERYONE in the building has creativity.
It’s been two months and still I’m reacting like I work for Stepzilla and the Skeksi. It amazing. Even though I knew what was happening and what they were doing, I still can’t shake the abuse.
In other news, my mom read HOPE (this blog in book format) and said she laughed out loud quite a few times. My misery brings others amusement. I guess that’s somewhat comforting.
I thought I’d post a little update now that I’ve escaped the clutches of ICE.
ICLE has scarred me. I’m like that abused dog you see in the street. I flinch when I hear certain words, when people ask me to do things, and I have nightmares about that place.
I’ve had pretty consistent nightmares about ICE since my escape. The dreams usually consist of me stopping back on my lunch break to visit Mavvy and Sharpie (even though I know Sharpie’s no longer there) and being held against my will by Stepzilla. I keep saying out loud that I had to get back to my job. Stepzilla gives me piles of work to finish and I’m told that I’m not allowed to leave until they’re finished. I looked pleadingly at Hasselhoff, but he just says, “Just do what she tells you.” Needless to say, these dreams usually end with me losing my job, Stepzilla hiring me back, firing me, then (of course) I lose my home.
I’m also having a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to doing work at my new job. I mean, I do the work and I like the work, but every time someone asks me to do something, I think they’re punishing me.
Then there are these certain words that make me want to yell in protest. Normal words like, “creativity”, “designer”, “pretty”, and “marketing”.
I overhead someone say, “we can get Marketing to do…” and I just about screamed in protest. It was in a meeting that I wasn’t even a part of, and I just about started arguing about a department doing work—a department that I’m not even a part of.
Then I wince when I hear the word pretty. I’m expecting it as an insult, but they mean it as a compliment. I presume they’re very confused when I give a wounded look and/or look of hatred.
People also use the word “creativity” and “design” in positive context. They aren’t spitting venom and glaring at me like I’m an idiot. They actually talk in a general basis and refer that EVERYONE in the building has creativity.
It’s been two months and still I’m reacting like I work for Stepzilla and the Skeksi. It amazing. Even though I knew what was happening and what they were doing, I still can’t shake the abuse.
In other news, my mom read HOPE (this blog in book format) and said she laughed out loud quite a few times. My misery brings others amusement. I guess that’s somewhat comforting.
posted by Laura Mitter at
3:24 PM
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