Throw the Cobble-Sized Rock

This post is a follow up to “Drive into the Tree.”

I suppose I should be over the awful nightmares with my bitch of an ex-boss Linda, right? Time may heal all wounds, but some come out as serious scars. Some worse things than getting screamed at by an unprofessional boss have happened, but some things haunt more. I wasn’t physically injured or permanently crippled by the incident, but I felt helpless. Some people would fight back or find a way to handle their loose-with-their-tongues Lindas appropriately, but I didn’t. All I could do was throw someone else on the tracks, hoping to save myself from the train that had already run me over. Towards the end, all I could do was say “I’m sorry,” but that didn’t help. I may have been in the wrong about everything Linda called me to her office about, but she is a prime example of how supervisors can abuse their subordinates with impunity. They hold the employees’ livelihoods in their hands and their superiors are often not willing to get rid of them.

In the months following my firing, when I was looking for work, I would have moments where I would start crying because I remembered my meeting with Linda all too vividly. Most of the time when I lost emotional control, I was safely home in my apartment. There were times when I would be in tears while I was in my car or when I was walking around the downtown neighborhoods. Once, I felt a little too naked around someone I was dating at the time when I started crying sometime after we had been talking for a while after sex. Thankfully, Linda’s mouth isn’t something that would reduce me to tears now.

However, that event still brings up a lot of anger for me. That an incident could bring me to tears months after it happened doesn’t help me forgive the perpetrator. Instead, I feel violently angry. I’ve thought about throwing a cobble-sized rock through her office window. I’ve had fantasies where I’d call Linda at work and tell her that she’s a cunt, among other things. I’ve imagined papering the office building and the blocks nearby with posters with her picture and a caption declaring that she’s an incompetent bitch. I’ve wished many times that Linda would painfully die after getting mangled in a horrible car accident. I’ve often hoped Linda would get a big karmic payback commensurate with the amount of the amount of abuse she showed me and others.

I’ve never acted out any of those scenarios in the previous paragraph. For the ones where I would take action, I would get arrested. There are two things that definitely keep me in check:

  1. The bitch is not worth my jailtime.
  2. I do not want Linda to have the satisfaction of saying she’s a victim.

Retaliation is never good, especially when it can cause loss of freedom. As for wishing, visualizing, and fantasizing – they aren’t crimes. At least not yet.

I have retaliated in a way that is within my First Amendment rights – I went on a few work-vent websites and wrote posts on the company, focusing on Linda as a boss. I stuck with what I knew, what happened in my professional relationship with her. I didn’t fabricate anything in those posts or writing about when I wanted to drive into the tree. If Linda ever said that I libeled her, my defense would be that what I said was true.

I don’t like that I feel violently angry whenever I think of Linda. I don’t like I have imagined those fantasy revenge scenarios. I don’t even like that I would wish her dead many times over. I don’t like that I have even imagined coming to her funeral, whenever it happens, and telling everyone present what a miserable, abusive bitch she was. Perhaps the most constructive thing I can do with all this anger towards Linda is to write a character who reaps all the evil she has sown. That’s what I’ll do. All I need is to find the right story.

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