The Boy Who Cried Force-Placed Insurance: Dem Whistleblower Blues

I’m going to take the time here to explain to you what you go through emotionally when you’re a whistleblower…because some of the things I’ve said and done must seem a little bit strange from the outside…


You see…when you first blow a whistle, you don’t even know you’ve done it. Everyone hears work gossip all the time. I can sum the collective conversation behind every closed door in every office building in every country translating into every last fucking language in the history of existence…I do my job better than ____.


When you’ve blown a whistle, you’ve effectively said that to your boss and other key cogs in the machine so that you eventually find yourself repeating the story to HR, and eventually to whoever’s escorting you off the premises…I hate to sound sexist at this point, but I’ve hired and fired a lot of people, as well as having seen it and heard firsthand accounts verified with repetition throughout several inter company grapevines. Females tend to cry at this point. I did not. I did however cry hundreds of times throughout the last year, so it’s not to judge that I bring it up, merely to point out the observation.


Once you’re out on your own, there’s a high level of energy as you experience a wide array of emotions throughout the next month. During that time, you tell the story to everyone you can. Every time you tell the story, you start to realize how little some people are actually listening to you anymore in your own life. Then you take another step, and the backlash involves law enforcement treating you like a criminal. You have to decide then and there what to tell them…and if there’s anything I can recommend whenever you’re talking to anybody in life (with very few close to the heart exceptions), don’t say any more than necessary.


The above video is the best 48 minutes you’ll ever spend in your life. A law school professor and police officer give a speech on why you should never talk to the police. I love it. Unfortunately for me I didn’t see it until after I spoke with the police. Fortunately for me, I was able to talk my way out of being arrested. The reason I disagree slightly with the “Don’t talk to the police” motto is because when you’re a whistleblower, fear is a common tactic used against you. It’s not easy to just not say anything to the police, especially when you have been falsely accused of a terrorist act in the United States these days.


Much like its lower class cousin the Stool Pigeon (See also Snitch), the Whistleblower receives a very quick lesson when dropped off the tree, fly or die. If the bird chooses to fly in this manner, it will be free of inhibitions. This sudden freedom will make the bird fly until he’s forced to the ground. At some point or another along every Whistleblower’s journey, it will be forced to choose while standing on the ground whether to fight or take flight.


Although I chose to fight at every opportunity I found (leading me to eventually have to start filtering out who’s worthy of my time and energy and who’s not), I do not condone any whistleblower who has ever given up at any point in their journey. It’s an experience few can speak from behind the shadows of. Any whistleblower can tell you that you don’t just get to run to someone who’s going to fix anything. That got you fired in the first place. You tell people, but they have no idea. You suddenly realize nobody gives a shit. Through the pain and the fear, you have to be intelligent enough to research  hundreds of worldwide internet searches every day of the right terms at the right times in order to find the people who understand what you’re talking about.


At the same time you’re doing all of this, you have to fix your financial situation. You’ll spend many days on hold with various companies negotiating refinances, consolidations, lower payments, reduced costs, fill out paperwork for the D.E.S for unemployment, food stamps, etc, update your resume, conduct job searches, keep in touch with your friends and family so they’re not worried you’re in some kind of trouble, which you probably are because you constantly feel like you’re being watched, you’re constantly finding ways to feel comfortable and safe, but you don’t feel safe anywhere.


You’re afraid of your cell phone and internet, because you never know who’s tracking you. You look underneath and around your car. You’re startled by loud noises (police sirens, yelling, and crashing noises are the worst). You’re constantly haunted by fear and doubt. What if you’re wrong? What if they start looking into your past? Can you explain your past? Can you convince the entire world that you’re a good person? Will anybody ever understand or care? Is the entire world just one giant ball of bullshit?


I bet there’s not a whistleblower out there who’s eyes don’t begin to water just reading this…


And when it comes down to it…the war I’m waging on the banks has nothing to do with me and them anymore. I found my inner peace. I’m waging all out class warfare on financial institutions in defense of every human being in this world that has ever felt even one second of the pain I endured last year.


But don’t crown me a saint just yet, because to jump ahead a bit, I really couldn’t give much of a fuck about the people I’m fighting for either…


Brian Penny is a former Business Analyst and Operations Manager at Bank of America turned whistleblower, troll, and freelance writer.

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