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I spent two years in a grad program working 90 hour weeks while my professors deliberately avoided any praise as a policy focused on me, gave me extra expectations and work, ignored every warning I gave them directly about my mental and physical fatigue, gave me shit and judgment for taking a quarter off when my Mom revealed she had breast cancer during when I was having a breakdown. I finally developed a condition that left me in pain every time I used my arms. I kept trying to work until they kicked me out for not being able to keep up and making up problems. When I lodged a complaint I was set up to walk into a police style interrogation where the only goal was to punch holes in my story and put me in a room that when I left I would have to use my arms. That way if I opened the door I had the be lying about everything. I didn't, which of course just proved how clever I was. Two years later and I'm still in pain every day. Out of the 30 other people in the program (we started with 46 people) one, ONE was willing to even say what happened to me was unfair. I helped every single one of those f*cks, they NEVER returned the favor, and they didn't even give a shit what happened to me. Since then expressing any of my feelings or pain has been made clear to be something people don't want to hear or care about. So yes, I f*cking hate everyone.
 
That's f*cking awful how they treated you. They took advantage of you, avoided treating you with basic human decency and respect, and then victim blamed you when you were going through (I'm guessing) one of the hardest times of your life. That f*cking sucks, I'm so sorry that happened. What dicks.
 
Yep. All three trans students where emotionally f*cked by the end of the program coincidentally. Two graduated, one still has the emontial compacity to be a classroom teacher. In their cases the staff suppressed reporting the sexual harassment they were enduring during their student teaching. At least I wasn't nearly raped.
 
Oh my God. I'm glad you're out of there. Being called a liar in such a serious context must have felt so horrible, and frustrating. Reminds me of these reoccurring nightmares I have of everybody suddenly turning on me for no good reason, its the worst feeling.
 
My reoccurring nightmare was of school. I felt like the only way I could ease the pain of what I had been put through by my teachers was to try and be there for kids in the place of a shitty teacher. Now I have an emotional breakdown if I try to tutor one middle schooler twice a week in math.
 
I vomit almost every day. Usually from coughing, but sometimes from panic attacks or pain. Haven't done one for each yet though. Oh yeah, and my meds. f*ck they make me feel awful. Vomit town USA.
 
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