I hate my job environment, which is not the same as saying I hate my job, as I love my job. Unfortunately the tow are intertwined in an indiscernible tango that I am not leading.
I’m breaking my silence on not talking about work at therapy at my next therapy session, I am at a point where I need someone to let me know if this is going to be a trigger break point for me. The conflict aspect is more than I want, bargained for, and as I mentioned in a previous post, it’s locking me into a little cage with barely enough room to turn in a circle or even breathe. I hate it. Hate is a strong word, acknowledged, but I hate it and I am claustrophobic. I’m at that edge where I want to turn everything off and say fuck you and curl into my shell at home, into my bed, with my distractions and let it and me go to our own hells.
I’m not going to do it though.. I say, very strongly now, I don’t want to go to that place even if it is beckoning with very green grass that I know I am allergic too. The question is, how to deal with the stress, claustrophobia and the ever growing gnawing tension and anxiety. I can’t keep popping Ativan, as much as I want to, it’s going to go down a bad path of withdrawal. I don’t want to be in a job where I am forced to take Ativan to deal with people I work with, that’s stupid, I don’t need you to tell me that!
But the complication of politics. You see, I am the kind of person that can walk away from conflict, I have no qualms saying, fine take it all, if you think you can do better, I am not going to fight. It’s what happened at my last 2 jobs, I am not that person that needs the ego of winning. If you want it, take it, I’d rather maintain my tenuous happy than risk it for a job. If you want to scape goat me and blame me, OK, do so, just let me leave. Forward, it’s all about forward.
I’m writing this as I need to steal myself for the coming 4 days of work, kind of my written ammunition.See you on the other end. Let the insanity begin.