Up until 4:30pm on Tuesday 29 January 2002, my time at Connect had felt secure and happy. Challenging at times, certainly. But secure and happy nevertheless.
By 5pm that had changed completely.
When I got home that evening, Ross took one look at me and poured me a very large, restorative glass of red wine. I was in a dreadful state and spent most of the evening alternating between tears and blank despair.
I had had a very unpleasant dust up with one of my colleagues. Bitter, acrimonious, rancourous. Those are the sort of words which would best describe the 20 minute slanging match we unleashed on each other.
Throughout a long night, two phrases kept returning to me from times past. The first was Margaret's voice telling me that I have to find ways of protecting myself. The second was the voice of my UCL mentor, Sue, telling me that it's impossible to work in a team of two when only one partner is playing the game.
The following day I had a meeting with one of my Union Reps. He gave me a lot of external perspective on the row and reassured me that what had happened was not completely outlandish. And then he said the thing that made me realise why I was feeling so concerned. He said "But I quite understand why you are feeling worried. After all, you've been threatened by possible disciplinary action".
And suddenly lots of things fell into place. Three times my colleague said to me "Do you want to write down what you've just called me?" And that was a threat. It was a threat which shook me up. And a threat which took me right back to being 6 or 7 and brought up all of unpleasantness I felt with Mrs Elliott, my teacher at the time. However, I had broken the pattern.
Unlike when I was little, I had not kept quiet about my experience. I had not internalised all the stress and assumed that, if the other person was angry, it must be my fault for being a bad boy. I had gone to an adult figure and asked if what had happened was right and I had been told that the threat was both unrealistic and improper. And it wasn't telling tales, it was about gaining protection against someone who wouldn't cooperate within a team of two.
I checked back with Ross that evening. When I'd spoken to him on the Tuesday night, all I'd talked about was that I'd done a bad thing and that I was afraid that something dreadful was going to happen to me and how I needed reassurance that I was really an OK person, wasn't I? Well, the worm has turned.
I've continued in the same vein. I've spoken with my line manager about the situation and have asked that, for the time being, the two of us do not work together. (That puts my manager in a difficult situation because no-one else wants to work with this colleague either) I have also spoken with the Personnel Department to find out where I stand. They gave me a useful word. They suggested that I felt that working with this particular colleague was untenable at the present time. I wholly agree.
All of this is very nasty. I would much rather be at my desk doing the work that I do best. But I will not be bullied any more.
Oh and, yes, I did lose my temper and my language was immoderate without being profane. I candidly acknowledge that. And if my colleague will admit that there was fault on both sides, I am still more than willing to meet her halfway. But I doubt that she will ever take that first, necessary step.