I couldn't even think anymore. I put my carton of milk in the cupboard instead of the fridge. And rolls went in the microwave instead of the oven. My mind was overflowing and at the same time, there was nothing. I often spent whole days in my dressing gown. For my husband Wim, this period wasn't always easy either. But he always supported me well during that time. That was natural for him. His attitude is that you just support each other. Even if I asked him to take a day off work, he would do it. The days when he went to work could sometimes be long. Because I didn't want to lose my rhythm, I would get up at the same time as him. But then I would do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. Except stare into space. If the temperature was nice, I could do a bit of gardening. Every day, at the end of the afternoon, I would look at the clock, and when it was five o'clock, I would think: “Thank goodness, he'll be home soon!”
Did I get a bunch of flowers from my employer? Haha, don't make me laugh. They called me three times a day in the early days to say they urgently wanted a meeting. And that while I was barely able to stand on my feet or think clearly. It was ridiculous.
Even my GP thought it was an unhealthy situation. “They really need to stop this. They need to leave you alone. Otherwise, I will call the company,” he said. Then there was the company doctor: who advised my employer to have an independent occupational health expert review the situation. They ignored that advice. A few months after my sick leave, I was ready to have a conversation. A meeting took place between me and someone from HR. A lady who barely took me seriously. And made me feel like it was my own fault that I ended up with a burnout. After that conversation, there was a period where I had to figure it out myself. There was no clear reintegration plan.
But I am a fighter. Someone with a hands-on mentality. If I can work, I will. And so I planned everything myself to start reintegrating - six months after my sick leave. My own initiative, then. My area manager was supposed to find a nice place for me, a small location. I did indeed end up in a nice place. With lovely colleagues, with whom I later socialised outside of work as well. Well, with almost all colleagues then. There was one colleague I would rather never see again. A guy who often spoke disrespectfully about others. About someone who was ill, about people with a different skin colour, you name it. And he did that even when guests were present! Well, I have a problem with that. So I called him out on it. Something my colleagues - who had as much trouble with him as I did - didn't dare to do. I also reported it to management. But they did nothing about it. Well, then it stops there. Meanwhile, I built up my hours myself and shortly after the summer holiday, I reported myself fully recovered.
Next Monday, Marja will tell in her last blog how her employer tried to get rid of her.