An Introduction

Some of my writing will be deeply personal and reflective.

I find I am in a world that is filled with anger and covered with a thin veil of decency and respect. People "tolerate" others because we have to work with them during much of our waking hours. I sometimes stop talking to friends who react angrily over a basic misunderstanding, or over a slight of words. The anger is interesting to me because it seems so self righteous where only I am wrong and they are right, even when it is a small misunderstanding, and we simply are just trying to find a common understanding on something.

I find I have the same anger at times but I try to be more observant of it instead of reacting to it. I struggle with anger myself and find it takes over in certain situations.

I have been lashed out at, shamed and abused in different points in my life. I have been a scapegoat as I am sure I have been part of the angry mob.

Recently at work a coworker was fired for drinking at her desk. She had been taking instagram photos of her drinking and weed escapades and posting it publicly to the internet.

I said something initially but chose my words very carefully and without naming names because the supervisors were involved and seemed to accuse anyone of jealousy if they said it was inappropriate.

I eventually discussed these issues with a fellow coworker. We felt isolated about the drug issues at our job because we felt something was seriously broken in the chain of command when we had to report something.

When she was fired I was blamed as the "snitch" even though someone in corporate found the online images. I found people refused to speak to me and harped about what a rat I was. People whom I was friendly to and did nothing to them were angry at me.

My character felt yet again dragged through the mud. I felt angry at these staff because all I wanted was a fair working environment where no double standards existed in terms of expectations and behaviors.

I find I have encountered so much of this in life where I feel like right is wrong, and being wrong is right. Maybe I missed out on some sort of human nuance. Maybe I need to lighten up.

All I want is to get through this life and feel some sort of respect and fairness. I want to feel like the work I do at the end of the day is worth something and that I am valued.

This will be an intro to an essay/novelette/ possible book. There will be many edits.

The idea came to me as I began exploring my own childhood and trauma history, and the fragmentation of my family, and how so many facets of what went on replayed itself throughout my history.

I am going to explore this and how it relates to now and I will try to see it from a different angle.