SchizoGymnast
Warlock
- May 28, 2024
- 715
I think most of us relate to the desire to have someone care for us. Especially if we live alone, or our parents have died, or we are single, we wonder if we matter to anyone. I've expressed this sentiment many times, sometimes saying that if I were ever reported missing, it would be by my employer as opposed to actual friends and family.
Well, I have concrete proof that I'm valued by other people. I was a no-call no-show at my job this past Tuesday because, of all things, my cat sat on my phone and managed to disable all my sound settings. This obviously includes my alarm and I slept through a good chunk of my shift. I woke up around 4am and checked in with my coworkers and supervisor. They had all the coverage that they needed, they were just checking on me. They thought it was hilarious that my cat held me hostage and we shared cat pics. No harm no foul, right?
A couple days later, the big wig executive director of the shelter approaches me near the end of my shift and scolds me, in public, and demanded to know what happened. He said he was really worried about me and I should be more careful next time. What the actual fuck? Couldn't we at least discuss this privately? You know how common it is for people on the overnight shift to just not show up because they're intoxicated or hungover or just don't want fucking want to? One of the most notorious offenders is a supervisor. My position isn't even that important. I'm at the bottom of the ladder. Why is it that when I'm late, it's a damn manhunt?
When someone tell me they're worried about me, especially when it's someone in a position of authority, I just feel so exposed. Violated. Gross. It's reminiscent of a parent scolding a teenager for sneaking out at night. All I wanted in that moment was for the earth to swallow me whole.
I can't help but think of the case of Hedviga Golik, who died in her apartment between 1966 and 1973...and went undiscovered for 42 years. It's easy to see why this is tragic. There was no chance to help her had she been able to live (and wanted to). She didn't get to see her friends or family. No one checked on her. Her remains were not given a timely, and dignified, sendoff. There's so much wrong with this case and I have so many questions.
But there's another side. I personally do not want to just die and rot in my shitty apartment, but lately, I've thought about disappearing. I just decide that I'm going to a big flashy city and start a new life and fall in love with the world again. No one reports me missing because enough people have seen or heard from me over a long enough period of time that I just kinda...phase out.
What do you guys think? Do you relate?
Well, I have concrete proof that I'm valued by other people. I was a no-call no-show at my job this past Tuesday because, of all things, my cat sat on my phone and managed to disable all my sound settings. This obviously includes my alarm and I slept through a good chunk of my shift. I woke up around 4am and checked in with my coworkers and supervisor. They had all the coverage that they needed, they were just checking on me. They thought it was hilarious that my cat held me hostage and we shared cat pics. No harm no foul, right?
A couple days later, the big wig executive director of the shelter approaches me near the end of my shift and scolds me, in public, and demanded to know what happened. He said he was really worried about me and I should be more careful next time. What the actual fuck? Couldn't we at least discuss this privately? You know how common it is for people on the overnight shift to just not show up because they're intoxicated or hungover or just don't want fucking want to? One of the most notorious offenders is a supervisor. My position isn't even that important. I'm at the bottom of the ladder. Why is it that when I'm late, it's a damn manhunt?
When someone tell me they're worried about me, especially when it's someone in a position of authority, I just feel so exposed. Violated. Gross. It's reminiscent of a parent scolding a teenager for sneaking out at night. All I wanted in that moment was for the earth to swallow me whole.
I can't help but think of the case of Hedviga Golik, who died in her apartment between 1966 and 1973...and went undiscovered for 42 years. It's easy to see why this is tragic. There was no chance to help her had she been able to live (and wanted to). She didn't get to see her friends or family. No one checked on her. Her remains were not given a timely, and dignified, sendoff. There's so much wrong with this case and I have so many questions.
But there's another side. I personally do not want to just die and rot in my shitty apartment, but lately, I've thought about disappearing. I just decide that I'm going to a big flashy city and start a new life and fall in love with the world again. No one reports me missing because enough people have seen or heard from me over a long enough period of time that I just kinda...phase out.
What do you guys think? Do you relate?
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