On the first day, I was ignored, and since the job was far away, in a polygon that smelled like pig manure, the whole situation made it difficult for me to go back. I would have renounced at the moment, but accessing a job was difficult in the last months, and I didn´t have much choice, so I put myself through hell, as by now I had a cat to make happy, and myself I was already too slim and needed to eat properly, and take care of this small body.

It´s been more than 3 months, and only now can I write about what happened. I was in shock for a long time, disgusted, left without energy of reaction, as the discrimination keeps repeating, and it affects a simple life to the core.

I had my meals mainly in the underground eating room, with other external workers and immigrants, as it seemed safer for us, quieter, and in a certain sense, our place. The integration was just decorative; the whole atmosphere became a little too heavy for immigrants who were badly seen from the start, because of their appearance or ethnicity, and we enjoyed eating together, mainly because each was an incredible character, but the interculturality made every minute charged with curiosity and interesting conversations. The IT and sales companies here have access to geniuses, who you can find eating on an underground floor, working like 5, multilingual, fast brains, and usually super creative. For someone trained as an Inclusive Specialist, like me, the interaction here is priceless. Barcelona area somehow is attracting the top of neurodiversity, which is fascinating to meet, but they are used at max.

In 5 months, losing 8 kg, even if you are trying to take care of yourself, is a classic; others develop the reverse eating disorder, or diseases are activated based on fatigue and mistreatment. Colleagues dying at work, diagnosed too late, or committing suicide are a reality in these companies, but the dynamics are toxic, and the workers are abused by the lack of coordination, systemic discrimination, and corrupt management. The lack of work stability is making many victims, especially among migrant workers, whose rights are being ignored; they are unpaid, used as much as possible, and maintained in tension. Nevertheless, the same treatment applies to atypical individuals of Spanish origins or relocated persons. There is this obvious attitude of closed doors, after using the new ones, a very creepy labor system.

Anyway, it´s been 3 months since I was fired, and just now I can write about it. The experience traumatized me to the point of losing my voice, as sadness can do such a thing. I have spent the last few months searching and applying in vain. Even if I´m interested in working in almost anything, and have a lot of skills, nobody sees me. The point of fearing for not having a roof or not affording a meal is here, and there is nowhere I can ask for help. The designated institutions, from the consulate to social services, organizations, and the bank that makes herself publicity of supporting women.