Its just one of those days where my emotional triggers are thick on the ground. And in the moment, I am fine, laugh it off, cope beautifully. Thirty minutes later I find that I've been sitting at my desk, useless, spacing out for far too long.
It was bad enough having to endure the annual parade of pregnant bellies at my doctor's office. That alone could have had me moody and picking at old mental scabs. But to make things even more fun, I got an email from a member of upper management in my old department. A person I once regarded as a friend and now as someone who stood by and did nothing while I was manipulated and abused in the office for months on end.
So I space out and let my thoughts drift back on everything painful that I am still fighting to recover from. I am so much more fragile than I want to be. I want to brush off these bad encounters. I want to stand up for myself and tell my doctor that her IVF lecture is not going to change my mind, so save it! Don't undermine months of my own thoughtful consideration and make it sound like I am making the wrong choice. I want to *not* be the polite and bigger person in my communications with my old department. I want to scream at them, all of them, that they should be ashamed for tearing apart my self confidence - and they can go to hell for all I care.
But the only place those scenarios will play out is in my head and on this page.
Doubt fills me up and there's no room for anything useful. The spreadsheets will quietly wait for me and the budget doesn't mind gathering dust for a day. I'm busy trying to wade my way through this mental quagmire and hoping to come out the other side where I know my choices are right for me and no one has the right to tell me how to feel or how to value myself.
And then I will contemplate filling out the survey related to all my horrible experiences with my old department and fall right back down the hole...
No comments:
Post a Comment