Okay, probably the first thing to note is that I feel really, uh, stupid (whiny? self-involved? weak?) for even going to these people. I have friends who are dealing with really tough stuff (health problems, mostly), and I have this stupid emotional hangup, which is nothing really. It’s like a broken fingernail compared to cancer.
But the employee assistance program is there, and not only that, they send me a little reminder every month along with my paycheck that, you know, they were there for me if I ever needed them. So even though I felt like my problems were very petty and meaningless compared to some, I thought it might help to talk to somebody, and it did. Well, somewhat.
The other shoe drops: It’s been a couple of months, and they sent a follow-up questionnaire to find out how their services worked for me.
Did they enclose it in my paycheck? No, they did not. They mailed it to my house, ion a mysteriously unmarked envelope.
Now I should note here that my company is headquartered in a different state–the state of the return address. But not the city of the return address. And there was no other identifying information, BUT . . . it was full postage, not presorted. So I was curious. So I opened it, right there in front of my husband and son, and of course my husband said, “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s. . . uh . . . from my . . . office . . . the, uh, something about the EAP”
“Let me see.”
Argh, no, you can’t. I’m snatching it out of his hand, probably blushing, and acting very suspicious, I’ll grant you. I am a horrible liar, in the sense of not good at it. (In person. On the phone I’m not bad. In print I’m phenomenal. Actually I can do okay in person, too, but not if I’m caught by surprise. I need to rehearse.)
“Oh,” he says, “it’s a form wanting to know how satisfied you are with their services–what did you go there for?”
I pull myself together and tell him it was confidential, okay? ANd he went off in a snit.
As well he might, I guess. (Things for discussion: I have no privacy whatsoever.)
When he gets into a snit he stays there, sometimes for, well, weeks. Meanwhile my temperature has gone up considerably and now my kid is also asking, “What’s this all about, Mom?”
“None of your . . . business.” (I don’t cuss around the kid; I leave a space. Were he to fill in the blank it would be something like this: !@#$%^&*)
“Aw come on. What was it?”
“NONE. OF. YOUR. BUSINESS. Okay?”
Okay. So now, courtesy of my EAP, I have put my husband in a snit and yelled at my kid, and this is supposed to be good for my mental health HOW?
So, thanks a lot to whatever little shit put THAT in the mail. Does it not occur to these people that some problems, given their nature, are things that your spouse would be the LAST person you’d want to hear about it?
(Okay, what else could they do? Well, for starters they could have NOT sent the form. Since I didn’t send it back anyway. Or, if the poor pathetic wretches just HAD to have feedback, they could have clipped it to my paycheck like they did all that other fine stuff telling me they were there for me. In fact, why didn’t they do that? Maybe they didn’t want the people in my office to realize what a stupid maladjusted fool I am? But they think it’s okay for my family to know?)