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When “We Support You” Became Something Else

 

I had never been good at asking for help — especially not at work. Like a lot of people, I was taught that professionalism meant hiding the struggle, smiling through the anxiety, and pushing through no matter what. But I was unraveling. Slowly, then all at once.

 

What most people didn’t see was that I wasn’t just dealing with a difficult boss or a demanding job. I was carrying years of unspoken pain, past trauma, and mounting personal pressure — all while trying to keep my job and my image intact.

 

I had reached a point where I couldn’t keep pretending I was okay. So I did something that felt terrifying and vulnerable:

I asked for support.

 

I approached my boss and let him know I was struggling. Not with spreadsheets. Not with performance. With my mental health. I told him I was actively working with a therapist. That I was doing everything I could to stay afloat. That I needed time and understanding, not hand-holding — just some space while I figured it out.

 

And at first, it went exactly how HR posters and handbooks say it’s supposed to go.

 

“We totally support you.”
“We understand — mental health is important.”
“Let us know how we can help.”

I exhaled. I trusted. I believed them.

 

But support has layers. And in time, their version of “support” began to look a lot more like surveillance.

Suddenly, HR wanted detailed documentation from my therapist. Then they wanted more. They asked for her professional bio, a request that felt invasive, inappropriate — and frankly, dehumanizing.

 

I wasn’t a policy. I wasn’t a liability. I was a person.

 

Still, I complied. I provided more than I was comfortable with. I just wanted to be believed. I just wanted to keep my job. I thought if I followed their process, they'd follow through on their promises.

 

I was wrong.

Instead of adjustments, I got evaluations.
Instead of accommodations, I got a Performance Improvement Plan.
Instead of empathy, I got silence.

 

Support, it turned out, had a shelf life.

And I had just expired.

 

👉 Next post: The paper trail begins — how their version of “support” turned into a PIP, and how I realized this was never about performance at all.