The Misadventures of an Indigo in the Workplace

Part Four
The Final Chapter

I hadn't had a job in what felt like eons.

I was trying desperately to figure out what my dream was.

I didn't know, but I knew what it wasn't - working for someone else. However, I felt tremendous stress and pressure to just do something. 

What you resist persists.

After running from the legal field for so long, I ended up right back where I didn't want to be - a law office. 

I hate everything about the legal field. 


Ironically, the night before my last day of freedom, er, my first day of work, I had the epiphany to create this website.

There were so many websites out there that described Indigos and how to identify one, but nothing out there on how to live as one.

Great, you're an Indigo, but now what? 

I was literally brushing my teeth when I got the message that I need to write the next step for Indigos.

I hadn't even lost my freedom yet, and I was already fighting like hell to get it back. #SignsYouAreAnIndigo

The domain name came to me weeks later while I was in the shower.


I usually write in my journal religiously, which is really helpful when trying to recall the horrid details of something like your first days at a new job.

However, for my first three days at work for this job, my journal entries are just dated and say fuck you. Well, actually day two says, "Fuck you all in Jesus' name. Amen."

I recall going home in tears twice the first week, and I was only working part-time.

I knew that I should just quit, but I was sick and tired of never having money and quitting every goddamn thing I do. 

Why can't I just go to work like every other normal person?!


This was yet another boss that got off on belittling people and berating them for making any mistakes.

My boss had a very dark demeanor. 

Just asking a question for clarification so I didn't make any mistakes would cause her to shoot daggers at me and the whole room would feel like it was getting sucked into a black hole. 

My boss's evil glares and verbal assaults penetrated my soul.

I lived in fear and in shock and just wanted to throw up all of the time. I felt like I was locked in a cage without food or water.

My skin broke out all over my body. I was covered in bright pink welts from head to toe that itched and burned like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't scratch long enough or deep enough to obtain any relief. 

I was in constant agony.

Any time my boss walked into the room my skin would flare up. It never stopped. The burning was unbearable I was in so much pain I just wanted a morphine drip.

My nervous system was shot. I was trembling daily. I couldn't sleep. I dreaded every interaction with my boss.

My skin was decomposing. The skin under my eyes was flaking off and burned like hell. I looked like the walking dead.

The skin on my nipples had shed off. They were an oozing mess.

The ooze would dry and get stuck to my bra. Every time I took my bra off I had to yank it off risking that the last of what was left of my nipples would get ripped off with it.

Anyone I confided in told me to: just ignore my boss; not take the comments personally; take an antihistamine; take MDMA; and relax.

Brilliant. Why didn't I think of that.

Go fuck yourselves!

Have you ever had to check and see whether or not your nipples have fell off after getting off work?

YOU try to fucking relax!

You can't go to a job everyday that you hate and not get sick.

Finally, I had a few days off and my skin started healing. This was the first relief that I'd felt in months.

But it was short lived.

Not 10 minutes into my first day back at work, my boss was in my face in a craze yelling about needing to find some documents (a daily occurrence). 

My skin immediately flared up again right then and there causing an internal hell fire that couldn't be extinguished.

This day was the rudest and most irate behavior I had experienced to date. 

Turns out these alleged documents didn't even exist yet as my boss had failed to finish them in the first place.

That was the LAST fucking straw.

A few minutes later after her welcome back tirade, my boss tip toed into my office came up behind me and slid the documents onto my desk without saying a word.

I didn't budge. I didn't make eye contact. I was done.

My boss went back in the office and shut the door. She got on the phone and stayed on it for an hour.

I was steaming. My skin was boiling. I was chomping at the bit to go back there and quit.

I was waiting for the phone conversation to end, but it never did, and I know that was on purpose. There probably wasn't even anyone on the other end of the call.

I couldn't wait any longer so I sent my boss an email saying:

"I can no longer work here. I don't like the way you talk to me. These past three days I have been off my skin has showed real improvement. I wasn't here 10 minutes before I got barked at and now it feels like I have fire coursing through my body, once again. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be here."

I clicked send and walked out the door. 

And that ladies and gentlemen was the very last day I ever worked for anyone else.


Related Articles:

Catch up or revisit chapters 1, 2, & 3 on my journeys through the workplace.


Check out my photo gallery here.