Mantra for the day, "I am not a bad person. I am not a bad person. I am not a bad person."
I have that sinking feeling in my stomach. You know the one. The one that makes you want to jump out of your skin and scream. Occasionally, this feeling paralyzes me to my office chair (it's interesting to note that this feeling usually coincides with work). I can't move for fear of making the feeling worse.
I am not a bad person. I am not a bad person.
I went in to talk to my boss about several comments that were made to me yesterday. Basically, I get reminded at least once or twice a week that I am not director or a supervisor and my worth to the organization is directly contingent upon that. When I started this job, they had reorganized the position so I now directly report to a director, instead of the executive. I am always going into talk to my boss about things. I'm too sensitive. I expect too much. God, I'm only 25, but I feel like I deserve so much more because I have a college degree and a brain. I'm ridiculous.
I am not a bad person. I am not a bad person. I will not get fired for asking not to be treated like an administrative assistant. Yes, there are a lot of grant writers who could do my job (not to mention trained monkeys). I am not a bad person. I am a valuable employee. They might fire me, but that doesn't make me a bad person.
I asked for financial help yesterday. Help was promised with the understanding that I should never ask for help again. It was also told to me that I should feel bad for asking for help. I had overextended myself, which makes me, understandably feel bad. Or at least it should.
I go back and forth between thinking, "I am a miserable excuse for an adult," and, "I'm a burden on my friends and family," to thinking, "Everyone needs help sometimes. It's going to be ok." with the constant thought in the back of my mind that screams, "Life shouldn't be this hard!"
The worst thought crossed my mind as I was trying to go to sleep last night: one day, Zac will feel like this and there is nothing I can do to stop that. One day, he will question every decision he has ever made and doubt his self-worth. No amount of parenting can change that. The little baby that loves nothing more than kisses from his mama and golf balls will turn into an adult.
I am not a bad person. I am not a bad person. I am not a bad person.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
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6 comments:
Word. You are definitely NOT a bad person. In fact, you're a great person.
I often feel that as hard as these self-critical and reflective questioning moments of our life are, they are also what moves us forward instead of keeping us in one place...
Love ya!
You are not a bad person. You are a wonderful person, and your value has never and will never have anything to do with the amount of money in your pocket or the job title someone gave you. Your value is independent of anything external, judgmental, or subjective. It's inside you, and even a Video Conferencing Technician Senior Specialist with seven bucks in her wallet can see that.
See... now didn't that last part sound silly? It's not at all how you think of me, is it?
of course you are not a bad person!
and taking the time to think about whether you are a bad person is a pretty good indicator that you're not. because i suspect a really 'bad person' wouldn't give a damn!
:P
You're probably right g-starr. Thanks for the perspective.
Thank you also to MNS and Wildflower for their kind words. I will call both of you as soon as I can.
Framji- I have to believe that eventually you and I will be able to talk. Keep the faith (Is that the Boston Red Sox slogan? I'm forgetting more and more Red Sox lore the longer I live out of the the northeast.) But, you get my drift.
You are so not a bad person!
I just discovered your blog today and have spent the last hour or so reading your archives. If I didn't have this pesky job I would probably read the rest of them today!
I also have a Zachary. Mine was born June 26th, so they are only a few days apart.
Dee,
Your son is unbelievably cute and I'm so jealous that my kid won't even get up on his knees yet, let alone think about standing (with a sippy cup no less! My Zac looks at those things and laughs, right before he throws it to the ground and starts screaming) I'm glad we've found each other (how corny does that sound?
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