First of all, I’m going to stop apologising for the
large gaps between posts. As mentioned
in my previous posts, I’m currently dealing with an issue with my previous
employer, and I’ve largely been trying to keep schtum in hopes of reaching an
amicable solution. However, it’s
becoming increasingly apparent that this is not going to be possible, so I now
feel getting it off my chest is going to be the best thing for me. I’m still going to try and be discrete about
it and not name names, etc, but I really can’t see how I can keep blogging at
the moment without getting this out in the open.
Where to start?
I briefly covered my employment situation in my first blog post, but to
recap, I was made redundant from the job I had been in for several years in May
2011, due to company downsizing. I’d
already avoided the chop a few months earlier by moving from my local office,
which was closing, to the company’s office up in London. I started having anxiety problems with the
London commute, so really, redundancy was the best thing that could happen to
me at that point. Luckily, one of my
former colleagues who hadn’t made it through the cull when my local office was
closed had found a lovely job with a small IFA firm, and they had a vacancy
going which sounded perfect for me, so I pretty much walked straight into a new
job. I felt I fit in immediately, and
couldn’t believe my luck. However, a
couple of months in, I started to have some health problems – constant stomach
cramps, frequent vomiting, with a nice side of dry retching to keep me busy
when I wasn’t vomiting. I’d had similar problems
before, which went away with the help of antacids and anti-emetics, although a
cause was never found, so I went to the doctor and started the same
treatment. I tried to keep going in to
work as much as I could, but as I was being sick so much, it was a hell of a
task just to make it through the 40 minute drive to the office. It got to the point that I was making less
than half of my hours. December came,
and I was thoroughly gloomy by then. My
husband decided to take a little time out of work so he could come with me to
one of my GPs appointments – I forget if I actually asked him to, or whether
his near-infallible intuition told him I needed him there. Either way, I ended up in floods of tears in
the GP’s office, my doctor had a look through my notes and noticed my previous
bouts of depression, and the dots were connected, and back onto
anti-depressants I went.
It must have been less than a week later that I was
called in for a meeting with my bosses.
Basically, they wanted to have a more formal meeting to discuss my
health and my future, and suggested I may want a friend to accompany me. I instantly knew what that was likely to
mean, so once again, my husband was there to hold my hand for that meeting. My boss was very apologetic, but he explained
that they were basically in the position of a start up company and could not
cope with continuing to pay me sick pay, and being a member down on their small
admin team. It was never explicitly said,
but I was essentially offered to option of resigning or being dismissed. I dimly remembered some old career advice someone
had given me, that in that situation, it is always best to resign. I wasn’t exactly in the best place mentally to
try and put up much of a fight. They had
given me the option of staying on if I showed a marked improvement before they
found a replacement for me, which was something, at least. My husband, as always, was incredibly
supportive, and agreed he would start working extra hours to try and keep our
cash flow going. We agreed that it
probably was for the best that I took a couple of months to recover before
looking for work again, in order to try and ensure I was in the best shape
possible. It took me about another week
before I managed to tell them that I was also being treated for depression. They were sympathetic, insistent that I still
join them for their Christmas meal, etc, but the prospect of being unemployed
within the next month had damaged my psyche more than I’d like to admit. My condition worsened, so there really was no
hope of being kept on.
Skip ahead a couple of weeks, and it got to the end
of January, with no replacement having yet been found. I got my payslip, and was a bit puzzled that
I’d been paid for a whole month, despite only having worked about a week in
January. I gave the boss in charge of
payroll a call to query it; as it would be going out to pay my bills in a few
days time, I wanted to make sure that I was not left with money to pay back
once I was without any income. I was
assured this was correct, as it was my pay for December, and I was paid in
arrears. I remembered having a
conversation about this when I first started, and that I’d had to hold back
some of my redundancy payment from my previous employment, so I was happy that
this was the case. I was going through a
really low patch at that point, pretty much resigned to the fact I wouldn’t be
going back to that job, so that’s about when I started blogging. It helped me feel some sense of achievement and
empowerment again. I kept in touch by
phone and email, but I never did get into the office again.
It got towards the end of February, by which time
they had a replacement lined up, so I gave them a call to check if there was
anything outstanding that needed to be dealt with before I officially
left. This is when they dropped the
bombshell that I did, in fact, owe them money, although they weren’t yet in a
position to tell me how much. I
essentially blacked out at this point through sheer panic – evidently, I
managed to complete the phone call, with them agreeing to calculate the
overpayment and email the figure to me. I
let my husband know. He was absolutely
furious, as this was exactly the situation I was trying to avoid by calling
them in January, and we were in no position to pay the money back. He took up the slack at this point, as I just
fell to pieces, and he checked into employment law and came to the conclusion
that, as I had made contact to query the payment and was assured it was
correct, we had then spent the money in good faith, and had no liability to
repay the money. I went to visit the
local Citizen’s Advice Bureau to back that up, and was referred to my local
free Employment Rights advice service, run by a local law school. This is the phone appointment I was referring
to last time I posted. I kept my former
employer up to date with what was going on, letting them know I was seeking
legal advice, and I let them know when my appointment was. I requested a copy of my contract to double-check
a couple of points, which they obligingly provided. They had, however, started to claim that my
recollection of the phone call at the end of January was incorrect, and that
they had told me it was an overpayment and that I had agreed to work it off
through February. Now, this particularly
upset me, as I’d already been off for three consecutive weeks at that point,
and as I’ve said, I was resigned to the fact I was unlikely to be up to working
again anytime soon. I tried to keep my
communication brief and civil from this point, as I didn’t want to say anything
rash before I’d confirmed my legal position.
I just want to take a second to reiterate how
difficult I’m finding this to write.
Trying to recall all of this and recount it coherently is wearing me
down something chronic, and I’m painfully aware I’m not writing it as well as I
would like, but I’m doing my best. I
just hope I will have some sort of feeling of catharsis once I’ve got it all
out. So.
It got to my phone appointment with the employment rights people last
Wednesday evening. They backed up my
husband’s initial research, and gave me a rough wording for my response,
stating that, as I had queried the payment, been assured it was OK, then used
the money to pay bills in good faith, I had a defence of estoppel. I had received my P45 in the meantime, which
gave a date of termination of my employment as 6th January, which
the adviser pointed out gave me an extra point of contention – I had handed in
my notice on 12th December, but my contract stated I was entitled to
8 weeks’ notice, so this had clearly been incorrectly handled. I sent my response off to my former employer,
feeling quite secure in my position, confident this would be an end to the matter. I started to feel like I might be able to
leave this whole crappy chapter of my life behind me and start to move on. That is, until I received their response
yesterday morning – that non-repayment was unacceptable, that they awaited my
agreement to a repayment schedule, and if it wasn’t forthcoming in the next two
weeks they would have to start legal proceedings. I’d managed to go the last few weeks without
being sick once, but that had be crouched over the toilet bowl crying
hysterically again. My husband once
again stepped up to the plate to compose a slightly more comprehensive and assertive
reply, including screenshots of my reports of the conversations I ‘d had that I
had texted to him, shocked at the sudden aggressive tone my previously amiable former
employer had taken.
And that’s where I stand at the moment. I’ve done my best not to fall to pieces
again, and have thankfully been more angry than miserable over it – hopefully the
anger will help me to focus on getting this resolved in my favour, as it should
be. I can’t help but feel that they are
trying to take advantage of my weakened, vulnerable mental state at the moment
to bully me into paying them back, even though the simple fact of the matter is
that I can’t, and they can’t admit they simply made a mistake in that first
phone call back in January. The stupid
thing is, in pursuing this, it is likely to cost them more in legal expenses
than what they could possibly hope to reclaim from me. I’m deliberately not checking my emails again
until my husband is home, as I just don’t feel capable of dealing with it in my
own at the moment. Now, I know it’s
generally my policy to not end my blog posts on a downer, but it’s difficult to
see the light at the end of the tunnel right now. I’m just looking forward to a nice meal with
my parents tonight, much as I’m not looking forward to filling them in on the
latest developments with my situation. I’d
like to thank all my readers, Twitter followers, and friends and family in
general for your support of late, it has made this whole nasty cesspool of a
situation a little easier to bear. I’ve
just got to try to stay strong and get through this!
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