Chapter One

I’m not entirely sure what happened. I remember sitting in my little piece of cubicle hell and starting to cry. I knew that was not a safe thing to do, so I gulped that back and went over to the workbench. I tried some slow breathing, deep in, slow out, deep in, slow out, with my mantra going over in my head. Mortgage, mortgage, mortgage, three kids in college, three kids in college, mortgage, mortgage, mortgage. Three, two, three. Then adding, two plus two is four. Four plus four is eight. Eight plus eight is sixteen. And the next thing I remember is being on the floor.

Chris, at least I think it was Chris, was next to me saying Tamara, let’s go outside. Come on, you don’t want to stay in here. Then I was gone again. Then Frank was sitting next to me telling me to breathe, breathe. Breathe with me Tamara, it’s ok. Don’t think about anything just listen to my voice and breathe. I remember thinking, Bianca is going to be so mad. Then I was gone again.

Then I was outside. The air was cool, a sweet spring breeze blowing and there was a black beetle crawling on my foot. Frank is still by my side re-teaching me how to breathe. Chris is gone, but Dirk is there. All these men trying to help me. They start telling me jokes. Really bad jokes. A grasshopper walks into a bar... Frank and Dirk are guaranteed to get you to laugh whether you think you ever will again in your life or not. When I would start breathing right or seemed calm, one of them would ask me what happened, and I’d be gone again. Cindy Ann from Safety showed up. Smoking her cigarette, watching me breathe, calming just by being. More jokes. These three should take it on the road. It was decided I should go home and that I absolutely could not drive. No argument from me. I was sitting there wondering if they knew I had wet my pants. Not a flood, just a little. Then I was gone again.

Then I was in Frank’s car. Good old Frank. Sweet, steady, stoic Frank. Who I can trust. And then I was home and my Ken was there. Holding me close, letting me cry. And then I slept.

Then work called. Bianca was indeed mad, and I was being placed on administrative leave pending an investigation into why I left my assigned workstation without informing my supervisor. I’m talking to Ann, trying to explain what happened, and then I’m gone again. Then my boss calls to tell me that Ann from HR will be calling. I wet myself when I hear her voice. And I am gone.

Ken is with me in the examining room. Dr. Johnson, Nancy, has the kindest face and a sweet gentle voice. She smiles at me and asks what’s happening? I try to tell her. I don’t go away, I stay, but I stutter, and cry, and I can’t breathe. There just isn’t any air left in the room for me. Somehow Ken is stealing it all and there isn’t any for me. I turn to look at him and he looks so sad. And I’m gone again.

Nancy is saying something about taking one of the pills right away, the other I can take when I start feeling like I’m afraid. I can’t remember not feeling afraid. She asks me if I want to hurt myself. I don’t understand the question. Why would I want to hurt myself? Then she wants to know if I want to hurt anyone else. What? Ok, take both of the pills right away. Pills? Ken says he will take care of it. Take care of what? He smiles and hugs me. He still looks sad, despite the smile.

Pharmacy, home, sleep.

Ken is introducing me to Lesley. She is going to help me not feel like this anymore. It seems the women have taken over my care. I want to wish her luck, but I’m still stuttering. She asks me about the pills. I know I took something, not sure what or when. Ken answers and hands her the bottles. Lexipro, she took one, and Lorazepam, she took one of those too. Lesley suggests another ½ of one of those. Ok with me, just a ½? Yes, just a ½. I have to stay awake to talk to her. Damn.

I get through it. I tell her about sitting at my desk needing to type an email. But unsure of how to say what I need to say. It’s important that I get it right and be professional. I always thought I had been professional, but my boss says I am not. She does not tell me how I’m not, or give me examples, but my job is on the line if I am not. Worse, I have to professionally correct my boss’s documentation. How to professionally tell your boss that in fact we do that process an entire different way than she thinks it’s done. Without making her look bad, or feel stupid. Professionally.

I look up at Lesley and she is breathing funny. Real exaggerated. I get it. Breathe like me. Watch my face and breathe like me. I lock eyes with her and I feel like maybe I’m not drowning anymore.

I can start again. Suzanna telling me about the email. That my paranoia might actually be based on real events. The email was left on the printer and was mixed up in her things. She was looking at it as she walked back to her desk, then saw what it was. An email exchange between my boss and my manager. About me. In all uppercase and exclamation marks. They are mad at you Tamara. Be careful. And I think, so...it is just me. They just don’t like...me. But I have a mortgage, and three kids in college, and I live in the middle of nowhere. I will not find a job that pays ½ this much without moving. And they know it. Golden handcuffs and they can pretty much do anything they want. Suzanna puts the email back on the printer. It sits there for three hours she says. Other people print, pick it up, put it back. More people know my bosses hate me.

My eyes are still locked with Lesley’s. If I break eye contact I will be gone. I know it, she knows it. Ken is holding my hand. No, I have a death grip on his hand. I wonder if he can feel his fingers, but I don’t let go. I can’t. He is holding me down, but he doesn’t know it. Lesley smiles and says, it’s ok, let’s continue.

We have a staff meeting. One co-worker does a double fisted flip off about the decision makers in our company. Another calls some other people in our company assholes. Katie says God Damn It, are we going over this again? Then there is another double fisted flip off. I wonder why they can curse, but according to HR my manager and supervisor reported that one of my co-workers complained that I cussed them out. I absolutely know that didn’t happen. And I wonder which one of them hates me as much as my boss hates me. But I don’t really have to wonder, I know. She always has. I’ve never known why and what is really sad is, I like her. 

My boss says, stay after the staff meeting Tamara, I need to talk to you. My co-workers leave, all flashing me sympathetic looks, except that one.  My boss says since we moved the go-live date to Labor Day I’m not going to approve your leave request for Burning Man. I just look at her. We have invested so much time, energy, and love into getting ready for this year’s burn. I have four newbies counting on me. My little Dye Shop dream is coming together, and they won’t let me go. They really are trying to make me so miserable that I quit. But I can’t. I have a mortgage, I live in the middle of nowhere. And we built our house on property Ken inherited from his Dad. Oh God. If I lose this job, we lose the house. And it will be all my fault. Because I can’t get them to like me. I don’t know what I’ve done to make them all so angry.

Katie says God Damn It, i’ve gone to get coffee three times and I keep getting distracted.

And then I start to cry in my cubicle.

Lesley says it’s ok, it’s ok. Ken is holding my hand. He is crying. He does not know what to do with me like this. I am a strong, independent, smart woman. Really. People tell me that all the time. Current condition does not count. What continues to surprise me is how much Ken just loves me. He just does. Always. And I know it. And it kills me that I am making him cry.

Lesley says to think about things that relax me. Do only those things. Do nothing that requires me to think or stress. I tell her I have to give a statement to work about leaving. She says to take another pill 15 minutes before my appointment time. Lesley talks some more. She sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher and I can’t figure out what she means, but Ken is there and he is nodding so I nod with him. Lesley hands me a piece of paper with three names and phone numbers on it. She says these are three lawyers that people tell her are good. Pick one, or pick one out of the phone book, but make an appointment. It’s homework.

Then we go home and I call HR. Thank god it’s her voicemail. I tell her voicemail I don’t think I can do this yet. Maybe I need to take these pills for a few days. I sleep. HR calls back. All the air is gone from the room again. Ann says it’s ok. Is anyone home with me? I don’t want you to be alone and I want you to get better. We can do this statement thing Monday or Tuesday. Rest, please Tamara, I want you to take care of only you for right now.

And I sleep, and then there is the nightmare. And I am not alone, Ken is here. And he loves me. And I am safe as long as I am here and he is here and I don’t have to talk about work. Sleep.