P’s 5 B’s

 

You cannot:

  • Blackmail me
  • Bribe me
  • Buy me
  • Bully me
  • Bullsh*t me anymore

 

… nor burn me out any longer!

 

… and neither ban, shadow ban via Twitter!! (updated 23.12.2018)

 

 

Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission are prohibited.

©2017 – 2019 poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved.

 

The Double Agent

 

“You can talk to me now.”

Words in an informal moment of around 3 – 5 minutes, while the HR advisor who took the notes briefly left the room to get the print-outs.

A new Twilight Zone I entered into and the most confusing time of my life, not realizing how calculated this was.

There actually is a person in this city, in this company, in this room who also has lost her brother almost identical, almost the same time and similar circumstances I did??!!

My brother lay dead in his flat for around 6 days before he was found. He lay in front of his apartment door that they had to push his corpse away to get in.

And here was a person in the same company who also lost her brother who lay dead in his flat for days?

Why did they do this to me? Why come up with this?

This by far was the meanest and coldest thing Pret has done to me. You absolutely cannot top that! Doing the right thing naturally? It can scare the hell out of you what they are capable of!

Why did she let them use her tragedy of her lost brother against my tragedy of my lost brother, knowing she was “technically” not allowed to speak to me outside of the disciplinary? How mean is that!?!

It is like 2 people amongst a powerful group of aliens who don’t understand the language of the two people. But one of the two people is half alien / half human. She knows both groups. And because the aliens are in the majority and stronger than the 2, of which one of the two is a little bit of a “rebel” rising up against the systemic oppression from the aliens, after having been repeatedly bullied during bereavement. And the one person is only allowed to speak to the rebel to give a sanction through the back-door of common tragedy. Shoot, that was clever and calculated, but what a big mistake!!

In many of my dark moments, in tears and numb despair I wondered, why did she never have the courage after working there for more than 15 years, knowing all the staff there, to respectfully decline being the hearing manager for my disciplinary? Was it just “survival”? Fear management at its best? What was it?!

In my maddest moments I asked my brother to speak to her brother to speak to her.

Why did she never suggest to get into contact with me outside of the disciplinary, as a recommendation being able to share our common grief, and let another manager do the disciplinary?

And then why did she lie and abandon me in the end, knowing she would be safe in her job? She only lost her face, I lost my job.

I can only answer to myself as she never answered my repeated question about this: Double Agents are always in it for themselves. They don’t work for a particular side they are employed by at any given time. They switch sides with ease and only work for themselves.

Development Manager, Hypnotherapist, NLP Practitioner, Griever, professional, semi-professional, personal, alien, human… Wearing too many hats, hurts people.

I only wear one hat: The Being-True-To-Myself Hat. It’s a lonely hat, but it will pay out in time.

Double Agents lose double in the end.

Late Night Girl2

 

Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission are prohibited.

©2017 – 2019 poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved.

 

Discrimination: Physical vs. Mental

 

“I don’t want the area to feel sorry for me anymore.”

 

A sentence a line manager at Pret A Manger said to me in December 2015, when I was transferred to his shop after I was openly bullied in another shop,  while I was in my darkest time having lost my brother. Grievances were raised and I was in the middle of stressful grievance and appeals hearings. He meant he didn’t want his management colleagues of the area to feel sorry for him because I was “thrust” into his shop from the other shop, and after reaching out to HR for almost a year I finally contacted the CEO. I was traumatized and constantly assumed that management was out to find the smallest mistakes I made, as I just came from a shop where I was targeted and penalized for absolutely nothing.

 

Brain Plaster anxiety-1535743__340

 

Pret, as any business, has shops placed within areas of around 10 – 15 shops each area, with his area having had 10 shops and regular managers meetings, and as my story went around like wildfire, they had a laugh about my “poor” boss because I was there.

My grief and mental state deteriorated, and even though I always understood their helplessness, they just had a laugh. I still did my job well, on autopilot, functioning extremely well under the circumstances, although I was in a lot of physical and mental pain. I developed a roaring tinnitus, my head literally felt like breaking apart, but I tortured myself after my brother’s death and entered into what they call “Sibling Survivor Guilt”. But this does not give anyone the right or a free ticket to bully and take advantage of someone in an extreme vulnerable state! 

I can understand that everyone who didn’t know me was confused, because here I was with this mix of completely out of sync, starting to write countless of emails out of trauma, at times under the influence trying to cope. And on the other side I was this very strong person who had very clear standards and work ethics who, during work was highly professional! I cared for my team passionately as well as for the job and changed the atmosphere where the team were not shouted at anymore, but rather encouraged, and it showed in the numbers and success of the shop. I was off the rails, and that I even have to explain myself, even now, is just another upset that I was an easy target to be gaslighted throughout my ordeal.

I will never stop saying that discrimination is only possible because leadership has no concern, nor a strong zero tolerance policy in place to protect people who are in bereavement, mentally ill or traumatized, be it physically or mentally.

 

chaos-485501__340

 

My story is spread throughout this website in different articles, blog entries and open letters to Pret A Manger, which eventually will form into one chronological book or story online. At the moment the reader has to sieve through this blog unfortunately. If you are stumbling through my website, I sincerely thank you for your time. I am not taking anyone’s time lightly!

 

I was transferred to a shop with the above manager, I call him “Mr. Eagle” here, as the building of that shop has this name. Mr. Eagle was not happy at all that I was dropped onto his lap as another team leader, adding to his payroll expenses. The look on his face, his body language when I entered his store the day before I was to start there, to introduce myself, “a picture speaks a thousand words”. His face was like saying, “Who on earth are you? What are you doing here? Why are they sending you to my shop?!”

This was the beginning of an almost two year discriminating working relationship. And again you as the reader may ask, ‘Why did you stay so long there?’ as a friend once said to me “You need to get the hell out of there!” But I was traumatized, lost in a cloud of grief, paralyzed in my heart, my savings wiped out after the expenses surrounding my brother’s death. I blamed myself for everything. I felt like a burden to everyone. I couldn’t sell myself in a new job, even a trial day where I worked didn’t help, whereas before I always found a job!

I felt abandoned, with my back to the wall. I lost 35kg, 25 of it within 6+ months as I couldn’t eat. I had no confidence with new opportunities. And I was not able to know who to trust, as all the grievance hearings were a joke, the way they were conducted. I raised grievance after grievance after grievance, trying to deal with discrimination internally, so much so that the Head of HR later said that I “exhausted the HR department”. Well, I wouldn’t have done so in my trauma if there would have been a clear zero tolerance of bullying in Pret, especially towards the bereaved.

 

Depression pexels-photo-362948

 

I was like in a Twilight Zone, felt like a person going through a country full of aliens where I tried to figure out who is the human and who is the “zombie” about to devour me! To the reader, this may seem like complete stupidity to you, but for me the emotional roller-coaster was unbearable and very real. Only a traumatized person will understand what I am sharing here. And no, don’t make it too easy on yourself by looking down on my situation and dismissing my turmoil as just another “basket case” whose fault it is to let others treat them like this. Nope, not that easy, and bear with me as I keep ranting this injustice away.

As I am writing this, I have about 9 months of hindsight and distance to Pret where my mind is clearing up and seeing things more rational on what actually happened to me.

 

Grey Scale Photograph of Wheel Chair Near Water Sea

 

 

On the subject of Discrimination:

If I would have had a physical disability, I may just be a little slower than others, but other than that I am fine. If Mr. Eagle or any line manager, would have told me that because of my physical condition that he doesn’t “want the area to feel sorry for him anymore”, we all know what a clear discrimination this would have been and how quickly he would have gotten into trouble. My disability was a mental disability after the combination of grief and trauma + bullying = mental illness.

I even mentioned this to the Head of HR shortly after the line manager told me his “sorry story”, and the Head of HR with an embarrassed look on his face only replied, “Did he say that?” Yes sir, he did. And that was all. HR may have spoken with Mr. Eagle then, but no sanction. Mr. Eagle went on to discriminate in very subtle ways from then on.

Bullying has many faces, and much of it is hard to prove when it is done behind closed doors, in very subtle ways where a person is held low, or not being given information they need, to do their job, or they are not invited in meetings and even Christmas dinners. This kind of bullying is actually very common. It is epidemic to be frank, because it goes under the radar, hard to prove without clear evidence and witnesses. Most people don’t even know or understand that they are being bullied, they just feel off, they feel like something “yuk” is being attached to them, but they cannot put the finger on it until often much later when it is too late to raise the issue.

 

Examples of bullying

 

My experience in being bullied was more clear, but still hard to prove as Mr. Eagle always said these things in the office without any witnesses, very clever and calculated. And he had a ride with me when I was irrational, hysterical and emotional. He loved it. I left his shop raising a grievance against him, but the investigation was not done properly and witnesses that I named were not interviewed. I gave up then, didn’t even appeal anymore because the HR department would again not have an impartial hearing as so many times before.

My father was found in his flat on the floor, was submitted to hospital, induced into a coma and I had another round of my ill emailing, which was re-started again after the development manager giving me a disciplinary for my ill emailing (which I understand only since recently was “gaslighting”), played her game as well. She entered into solely electronic communication with me because she was used to discipline me as she (supposedly) lost her brother very similarly to mine. Yep, sound really messed up, like a cheap Hollywood script gone bonkers! Written prove upon request! So, she sanctioned me for electronic communication and yet she entered into electronic communication gaslighting me. This confusion kick-started another level of ill emailing again, and I got dismissed, three days after Christmas while my dad was in intensive care, just out of his coma. I share this in these pages in more detail.

I can only say that if you are mistreating a person who is vulnerable in bereavement, illness or any kind of disability that makes them vulnerable, the time will come when this will get back to you. If I would have been treated with respect, empathy (not pity!) and  had the time and space to grow and heal, I would be writing a completely different blog and would go out of my way to brag about Pret, instead of writing a painful story at times in tears.

 

nature-3294696__340

 

If Mr. Eagle would have said to a pregnant woman who was slowing down due to her getting along in the pregnancy, “I don’t want the area to feel sorry for me anymore.” …

or if a person of their own sexual orientation working for Mr. Eagle and him saying to that person, “I don’t want the area to feel sorry for me anymore.” …..

or a person of another skin tone, culture or religious belief, “I don’t want the area to feel sorry for me anymore.” ………

or a person who had an accident, losing a finger which may slow him down a bit, or he would be able to do certain work needing to be placed in another area of the business… “I don’t want the area to feel sorry for me anymore.” …………..

it would be a clear case of discrimination and people would heed quickly, as everyone knows that there are laws to protect people against this kind of discrimination. I wrote this somewhere else already, but the only way to describe my ordeal is, that I was like a sheep up for slaughter on the shop floor. And I was fair game for “leaders” like this!

 

I may have no mental capacity to go to court, even though the preliminary hearing judge allowed me to raise a second tribunal claim after I closed the first claim due to stress, my father dying, still coming to terms of what happened to my brother…

I still have a voice, a pen and a paper, and social media accounts to say to Clive Schlee, CEO of Pret A Manger, that calling me his “late night girl” was not just disrespectful, stepping on my dignity again, but Pret better live up to the slogans that fool the public! I gave Pret the benefit of the doubt one too many times, those benefits went unaccounted for now.

Sincerely,

Your

 

Late Night Girl2

 

Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission are prohibited.

©2017 – 2019 poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved.

 

@You and everybody

 

If you are being told that I am just ill, a person who is off the rails because of my trauma losing my brother, than read my story here carefully.

I was traumatized when I heard the news of my brother’s death via an email, not knowing for five weeks that he was gone, including having been cremated without our knowledge and consent.

What made me ill is having worked in Pret A Manger and being bullied on top of it under the guiding of HR. I was tricked and trapped in my vulnerability.

Sounds unbelievable, yes, to me too. If I wouldn’t have all of this in writing, especially after I made a full access request according to the Data Protection Act 1998, I wouldn’t believe it myself in hindsight.

I was traumatized and vulnerable, and in many cases plain stupid to have stayed in this for so long, trying to “help” a multi-million pound company to improve working conditions while they don’t care.

Many people have been used to “control” me, to make me silent. The last thing they did, which topped it all, was to use a development manager from head office, who supposedly lost her brother the same way I did, to give me a disciplinary.

She then entered into personal contact with me, while I stupidly thought she was put on my case to support me. Six months later she finally admitted that she wasn’t “technically” allowed to be in contact with me. Then she lied to HR, who in turn later still protected her anyway, as she was used to get me under control.

No need to say how tasteless and disrespectful it is to be using someone’s tragedy against someone else’s. If they would have asked her if she wants to get in contact with me due to our similar loss, that would have been true support and care. But they used her to sanction me. This is especially disappointing because she let them use her.

And people are happy to remain in this kind of system, as it is within their comfort zone, while other people become sick, suicidal, someone even committed suicide last year.

And the top leadership put on a nice front, mingle with customers on Twitter and everyone buys into this system. How it is behind the facade, only those know who burned out or were paid and bought out by this system. Too exhausted to speak up. Too afraid and conditioned by fear management. I declined 4 settlement offers as I don’t “prostitute” myself to a system like this.

So, if you really think I am just a sick person, who has nothing better to do than create a website and social media accounts with a huge amount of text because I am just sick? Yes, I am sick alright, but I was bullied during bereavement and than fired while ill and while my father was in intensive care, just out of a coma.

When you are in bereavement, you are an inconvenience to a company like Pret. And whatever they have in place now to help the bereaved or mentally ill, it is because of my 3 year struggle to improve work conditions. And Mental Health seems to be a “trendy” thing these days.

Gluten Free is so yesterday, Mental Health is just it today.

And Pret likes to keep a nice front and will advertise this in time if they aren’t advertising now already.

To Pret,

I was with you for the most darkest time of my life, to which you have added pain and grief. And when you finally came up with this “Ace” in your sleeve by using LW, the development manager because she lost her brother the same way, but you just used her to give me the disciplinary but she wasn’t allowed to speak with me? First of all, shame on you. And secondly, you put the final drop into the barrel with this.

Yes, I was angry, I still am, but anyone reading my story would be surprised that I am still writing and campaigning, and not completely be gone!

Pret, you absolutely went too far with LW! And @LW, I really feel for you. I still respect you, but it is the basic human respect everyone deserves.

I wasted 10 years of my life, and yet it wasn’t a waste, because I have found a cause to live and work for.

Regards,

Late Night Girl

 

 

Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission are prohibited.

©2017 – 2019 poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved.

 

When Machines bring you Death

 

(continuation from “How I became a Late Night Girl“)

 

The poison in my hand, that looked like a phone, wouldn’t help me get out of a war-zone, a bombardment that started raging inside me. The messenger was a machine, the email was a gun, the letters were the bullets.

Another machine that looked like a laptop connected me with a voice that sounded like the police. More surreal messages made their way through the airwaves, cables and electronics.

Questions …
Cause of death?
Organ failure.  

 
Which organ?
Doesn’t say.

 

And the autopsy?
No autopsy.

No autopsy?!!

 

When did he die?
Approximately 6 days before he was found.

 



Why were we as his family not found?

Why am I learning this 5 weeks after he died?

Why is there no clear cause of death?

Why no autopsy??! ……

 

All questions fired out on autopilot while still not having registered the message.

 

My brother dead!

 

The machine informed me that from a police perspective, as soon as they can rule out fowl play and suicide, they are not concerned about the cause of death anymore and hand it back to the coroner.

Case closed.

The policeman further informed me that they had to push his estimated 6 day old corpse away from his door to enter the apartment and they were able to capture two of the three cats that survived while my brother lay dead. The third cat slipped out the door and as a neighbour told me it lives outside now and won’t let anyone capture it…

Thank you for all the details. Very efficient.

 

 

Could I get a copy of the police and doctor’s reports, please?

You need a lawyer to apply for it, only a lawyer can have a copy. It’s the law in Germany.

 

A conversation with a customer in my former work who was a police detective, having worked on many death cases, confirmed that if nothing suspicious is found the case is closed fast, too much paper work. Of course if the deceased was one of their relatives, friends or colleagues, they would go to town trying to find the cause and family.

 

My brother was just MY brother.

 

Where is he now?

He has been cremated.

 
??!!!??!!

 

I realized later that his cremation was already mentioned in the email that I just read minutes before, but the LOAD of this short and brutal email was so surreal and heavy, I didn’t take it in at the time. I just starred at my phone half in mid-air and half on the floor, stuck in Twilight Zone. The turmoil that was soon to start, added by my superiors at work and the anger I would be capable of, would unleash in writings like a never ending mass shooting, but with words and letters in emails… The traumatic angst and rage that was approaching fast, losing me almost everything and everyone I held dear… I could have never imagined then.

 

I learned later that they destroyed all his belongings that had no financial value, since we couldn’t pay his debt from his business and had to reject the inheritance and with it all belongings that were of sentimental value to us. By law we had 6 weeks from learning of his death to decide what to do. We only received a shoe box size of papers, ID cards, driver’s license, photos, letters … and later his ashes…

in the post.

 

I went inside another machine the next day to bring death to my mum who brought us life.

And then I carried my big brother into the earth.

And I buried my heart with him.

 

My life has been a big mess since.

Everyone keeps telling me since day one to be strong.

 

But I am not a machine anymore.

 

 

Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission are prohibited.

©2017 – 2019 poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved.

 

 

How I became a Late Night Girl

 

 

Clive Schlee, CEO of Pret A Manger stepped on my dignity, patronizing me by calling me his “late night girl” two months before Pret fired me while my dad was in intensive care, just out of a coma. I was bullied during bereavement, manipulated and gaslighted under the watchful eye of Pret’s HR department. Why the CEO labeled me this I explain on my blog here in detail. I adopted this “label” to be a sore in Pret’s sight, in hopes they will never do to employees again what they’ve done to me.

 

 

18-tk-ca-2012.jpg

 

On 12. January 2015 I woke up and checked my email while still in bed blurry-eyed. Bed, the most vulnerable and safe place to be in. I had late shift that week and thought I quickly check my mail before turning around to sleep some more and later go to work.

I found myself making the fastest jump out of bed I’ve ever made, but that jump felt like slow motion, as if I got stuck in mid air and my room was moving by me in an eerie pace. The light painted wall became fogged up like someone just poured a dust-like grey powder over it. When I landed on my feet, I felt like a deformed cartoon character out of a Tom & Jerry fighting scene, who got whacked over the head and entered into another world. But it was more like a shotgun hole in my gut, something ripped life out of my system and left a huge crater behind.

My bedroom wasn’t my bedroom anymore, my apartment wasn’t my apartment anymore, my mind wasn’t my mind anymore. It was just like it feels when you return from a two or three week trip to a different country and culture, returning home and your place has a different feel to it, a stale atmosphere because you’ve gotten used to a different place, food, impressions, language.

Of course your apartment or house is still the same, it’s just you who has to readjust to the familiar and safe place you know so well and fill it with life again. But for me it was like I’ve come “home” to hell. It was the beginning of a very long and dark time in that world, which I am still standing in with one foot, while the other foot is trying to venture out to find green pastures.

In a 6 or 7 sentence email the sender went down a quick and short route to inform me that my brother has been found dead in his flat on the 15. December 2014. Next of kin could not be found in time (in a country as efficient as Germany!). Cause of death not clear, no autopsy, he lay dead for an estimated 6 days plus/minus before he was found, and then they just cremated him before finding us!

[After I flew over the next day to personally – not over the phone! – bring my mum the death of her son she gave life to, we arranged for his urn to be brought over from the city where he lived in. To our utter disbelief they sent his urn via post to the city’s council where my mum lives, so we can bury whatever was left of my brother close to my mum. Another German procedure I didn’t know was even done like this, sending an urn via post?!]

Furthermore I was advised to reject the inheritance as his estate was highly in debt, which also meant I learned later that I could not retrieve any of his belongings and was informed later that any belongings with no financial value has been destroyed…

The email ended with some other instructions. Kind regards.

My phone became like a curse in my hand that I could not understand that this was a phone I was holding, just starring at it, reading an electronic mail giving me a message of death.

I died that day.

 

 

 

 

07 TP crop

 

 

Continued > When Machines Bring You Death

 

 

A Plea!

 

 

Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission are prohibited.

©2017 – 2019 poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved.