Not just me?
I’m glad to hear it. Well, I’m not because that sucks for you, but I’m glad because it affirms that I’m not alone. Smalls wins.
You’ve just left the office for the day, you’re wandering over to the tube, mindlessly scrolling through work emails because for some annoying reason your body just does that without asking and then you see an email pop up. From your boss. Subject: Tomorrow. You open it. ‘Can you put some time in tomorrow, need to catch up on something’
Panic.
Stomach flips.
Palms sweating.
Heart starts beating weirdly fast.
You start replying ‘I’ll call you this evening and we can chat about it’ and then you realise that’s weird so you stop but you equally can’t cope with the idea of having to wait until tomorrow until you’re no doubt fired, or told you’ve done a terrible job, or told that everyone has finally realised that you have no idea what you’re doing. VOM-IT. Breathe. Breathe. You play it cool and write ‘Of course, first thing good?’ and put your phone down, try and ignore it, but the panic is still kind of there. Even through dinner, you’re refreshing your emails in case something else comes through. Internally playing through the potential outcomes of the meeting. What you’ll say when he/she confronts you about how awful you are. What you’ll write in your ‘leaving’ email. Then tomorrow comes. Your boss is late. WHERE IS HE/SHE?! This is so stressful, You need to know what’s going on. He/She saunters in at 10am after a breakfast meeting and you saunter over:
‘Hi, did you err want to have that meeting you mentioned?’
‘Ohhhh, sorry, totally forgot about that. All good — I just wanted to ask you about that meeting you had last week but then I saw you’d sent a meeting report and I missed it’.
LOL.
Sound familiar? The relief comes but then there is this little voice that’s like… damn you, why did you panic so much?! Why are you so uncool?!
Well… I’ll tell you this.. my guess (and it’s a guess, so take it or leave it), is that you panicked, because 1) you have a belief system that says ‘I’m not good enough/I’m a fraud’ 2) this belief system came from childhood and was likely exacerbated at school where you were probs big time told off for something which made you feel like you really were useless 3) the boss/employee dynamic is probs reminding you (sub-consciously) of the teacher/student dynamic so you’ve fallen into child ego state and are perpetually looking for approval from your boss like a kid does to a teacher. 4) Any indication of ‘non-approval’ (the email) takes you waaaay back to school and the terror of being told off and having to tell your parents you did something bad.
That’s probs why you panic. Maybe not, maybe I’m over simplifying it. Who knows. But whatever the reason, you’re definitely panicking not because of the email (it’s never about the email). You’re panicking because of the story you tell yourself about the email, which probably comes from some historical event that this email is sub-consciously reminding you of .
Dammit. Although, it’s free-ing to start to recognise that we reactNOT to what’s in front of us in the present, but, most of the time, to some historical event that’s replaying sub-consciously in our minds.
At least then we berate ourselves less for feeling so intensely.
Who knows, just a thought.
L x
You have probably tried to think your way out of it.
Whatever it is for you, the anxiety that arrives on Sunday evenings like an uninvited guest, the relationship pattern you can trace all the way back to childhood but somehow keep repeating anyway or the low hum of something missing that no promotion, no holiday, no amount of self-improvement has ever quite reached.
You are smart, you are self-aware and you have probably read the books, done the therapy, listened to the podcasts - you understand your patterns, you can explain them to someone else over a glass of wine with impressive clarity.
And yet, nothing has actually shifted.
You are doing so well.
Genuinely. By every external measure, your life is a success, the career, the flat, the social life, the holidays. The ability to hold a room, meet a deadline, handle a crisis with the particular calm that comes from having handled many crises before.
From the outside, you are completely fine.
From the inside, there is a question you keep almost asking and then putting back in the drawer.
Is this it?
Everything felt infused with irritation. I was doing all the things for everyone else that I thought I should be doing. I was doing all the acts of service. I was, technically, loving those people. And yet. It felt like every act I did, rather than being infused with love, was infused with a shards of glass shooting out of every plate I stacked.
It was a Thursday back in February 2018. The rain hadn’t stopped for months and London was right in the depths of what felt like the longest winter we’d ever had. The dark, damp days had started to getting to me so I’d taken refuge in a hot yoga class to warm up. The scent of palo santo blended with the sweat of 50 people pervaded the room. It was bonus day at work. They’d told us it had been a bad year and not to expect much. I peaked into the envelope, hopeful, as soon as they slid it across the table: £130k. But there I lay, in savasana, with hot, salty tears streaming down my face: I’d never felt emptier.