Anxiety: Shattered Glass Door
I don't like long days. I mean, I'm sure no one really loves them, but I apparently can't even properly function by the end of them. By the time I come home tonight I'll have been out for twelve hours straight and in the eleventh hour I shattered a glass door at work and cried about it.
I know this might sound ridiculous but unfortunately crying when I get frustrated/annoyed/insecure is quite common place for me. Especially if I'm feeling worn down and am surrounded by people (which makes my anxiety even worse, where's the logic brain?).
I got up early this morning and caught a ride with my Dad to my university where I would meet up with my writing partner. My scooter has given up on life again, hence the ride, but I'm too annoyed to write about that. I was at university at 8.30 AM, sat with my partner in one of the seating areas along the big halls, until 3 PM. We worked almost constantly and am hopefully getting somewhere even though the road to the final project seems far away at the moment. I also got panicky about the deadline to apply for a graduate which I didn't know was by the end of the month.
Then I had to go to work and because it's International Woman Day (which is incredible though I felt more defeated than empowered today). From the moment I stepped in the door, I was surrounded by colleagues setting up shop and for the first two and some hours of my shift I was sitting in a void of noise and strangers. There was a bar, thus drinking, and random people seemed to think it was okay to walk across the floor of my reception space as a short-cut.
By the time they finally got into the big meeting room, I felt so mentally drained that I just wanted to lie down and sleep secretly under my table. Many people also means a lot of requests and work for me and today was the day of the week where we stay open two hours later than usual.
When it was down to the final minutes, I went up to shut the two glass plates that cover the stairs so people can't walk to beyond level 1. I've done this more times than I can count (as I do it every time I'm at work) but today something went wrong.
I must not have been paying attention and sliding the door quicker than usual, as well as not positioning it properly. It caught on the edge of the stairs and shattered. I was absolutely mortified and the four colleagues who helped arrange and manage the event jumped up. They had peacefully been enjoying a drink. One immediately ran up the stairs to me, asking if I was okay which I confirmed. I wasn't hurt in any way.
But I felt myself breaking like the shattered glass in front of me. He was kind to comment there was two layers of glass and only one was shattered so it was still held up. He also said that it probably was a good thing because it still had our old logo printed on it and now they'd have to change it. I tried to laugh along but while I appreciated the gesture I just couldn't be lighthearted about it.
Everyone of my colleagues (though I don't work particularly close with any of them and only had met one before) all told me it was okay. I don't know why but that just made me feel worse. Obviously, it was an accident and a bummer but it wasn't the end of the world. Though my body reacted as if it where.
As I walked down the stairs, I could feel the tears bubble to the surface no matter how hard I tried to strangle them. I didn't work. Obviously my colleagues saw and asked if I was okay once again. I told them yes again and tried to keep my face turned from them, because by now I was softly sobbing and definitely didn't sound okay.
I tired to move away from them and sought refuge by my desk but one of the women followed me and began gently stroking my back telling me it was okay. I half choked an explanation that I had had a long day (very true) but I was also so mad at myself. Sure, it sucked that I had shattered that door but crying about it was a bit much.
I also hate crying in front of people, strangers in particular. I feel so out of control when I can't control the water running from my eyes or my shallow breathing resulting in sobs. I feel like the judge me, though this is obviously so stupid of me. Logically, I know they're not and they all reacted so nicely but I still feel so bad about putting myself in that situation.
The foursome of my colleagues gathered around the reception area with me and began talking about how ridiculous it was to have glass doors there and people probably had walked into them before. The guy who had run up to me also assured me it had happened before and that it wasn't a big deal. The other guy began explaining how it was glass because of the architect's say-so and back when it first was built no one was allowed to even hang stuff in the outside windows or the architect would call in and have them remove it.
Slowly but surely, the sobbing and hyperventilation quieted down and I felt so happy that I work with such lovely people, all jumping to assure me everything was okay and trying to cheer me up. They even offered to make me a drink (the boys had been bartenders all night), or bring me a soda. They even encouraged me to go in a grab some food from the buffet before it was overrun by everyone.
Even more oddly, I had just been thinking to myself about half an hour earlier, that I was feeling primed for an anxiety attack. By this I meant that I had been away from any kind of safe space for too long as well as constantly being sat in noisy surroundings and amongst crowds as well as almost constantly interacting with people. I was just joking with myself but I could feel how I was on edge and I knew the smallest thing would make me go off but I didn't think I actually end up sobbing at work (it's a first, so I guess that's good). Shattering a 1 by 2 metre glass plate is not a small thing, so (actually a massive trigger turns out).
In hindsight, I guess I should be happy that this didn't happen when 200 people we're just on the floor below me. However, I also realise I should probably have informed the maintenance guy. He was in the building doing sound for the event and I felt like one of the foursome will tell him. Honestly, he scares me a bit, so dealing with him wasn't something I felt like doing.
I walked my lock-up route and checked all the doors. Then I gathered my things and headed home. I'm pretty sure I know why I got so anxious, though it's only coming to me now; I hate doing things wrong (and breaking work equipment is definitely on that list) and everyone will see that damn shattered door. I've made things inconvenient for other people and I hate that. I also subconsciously worry I might get in trouble (though it was an accident.)
After finishing the sentence above, I talked to my parents and cried again (I knew I would if I told them - having to talk about emotional issues always does). They were pretty understanding and supportive but they think I need someone to talk to about this, so tomorrow Dad is booking a time for me with a therapist. They took it very well, except the last remark from my mother to just "toughen up and not selfdiagnose phobias that I don't have". That hurt me deeper than I think she realised because she makes me question if I am indeed just being a baby and blowing things out of proportions (which I already worry about).
I've taken two headache tablets (I never take more than one, this is a first) because I just want the hurt to stop. My eyes feel swelled up and warm. I might just cuddle up with some YouTube videos and Dan's YouNow show for now.
I'll be back at it again tomorrow with the busy schedule. *sigh*
I know this might sound ridiculous but unfortunately crying when I get frustrated/annoyed/insecure is quite common place for me. Especially if I'm feeling worn down and am surrounded by people (which makes my anxiety even worse, where's the logic brain?).
I got up early this morning and caught a ride with my Dad to my university where I would meet up with my writing partner. My scooter has given up on life again, hence the ride, but I'm too annoyed to write about that. I was at university at 8.30 AM, sat with my partner in one of the seating areas along the big halls, until 3 PM. We worked almost constantly and am hopefully getting somewhere even though the road to the final project seems far away at the moment. I also got panicky about the deadline to apply for a graduate which I didn't know was by the end of the month.
Then I had to go to work and because it's International Woman Day (which is incredible though I felt more defeated than empowered today). From the moment I stepped in the door, I was surrounded by colleagues setting up shop and for the first two and some hours of my shift I was sitting in a void of noise and strangers. There was a bar, thus drinking, and random people seemed to think it was okay to walk across the floor of my reception space as a short-cut.
By the time they finally got into the big meeting room, I felt so mentally drained that I just wanted to lie down and sleep secretly under my table. Many people also means a lot of requests and work for me and today was the day of the week where we stay open two hours later than usual.
When it was down to the final minutes, I went up to shut the two glass plates that cover the stairs so people can't walk to beyond level 1. I've done this more times than I can count (as I do it every time I'm at work) but today something went wrong.
I must not have been paying attention and sliding the door quicker than usual, as well as not positioning it properly. It caught on the edge of the stairs and shattered. I was absolutely mortified and the four colleagues who helped arrange and manage the event jumped up. They had peacefully been enjoying a drink. One immediately ran up the stairs to me, asking if I was okay which I confirmed. I wasn't hurt in any way.
But I felt myself breaking like the shattered glass in front of me. He was kind to comment there was two layers of glass and only one was shattered so it was still held up. He also said that it probably was a good thing because it still had our old logo printed on it and now they'd have to change it. I tried to laugh along but while I appreciated the gesture I just couldn't be lighthearted about it.
Everyone of my colleagues (though I don't work particularly close with any of them and only had met one before) all told me it was okay. I don't know why but that just made me feel worse. Obviously, it was an accident and a bummer but it wasn't the end of the world. Though my body reacted as if it where.
As I walked down the stairs, I could feel the tears bubble to the surface no matter how hard I tried to strangle them. I didn't work. Obviously my colleagues saw and asked if I was okay once again. I told them yes again and tried to keep my face turned from them, because by now I was softly sobbing and definitely didn't sound okay.
I tired to move away from them and sought refuge by my desk but one of the women followed me and began gently stroking my back telling me it was okay. I half choked an explanation that I had had a long day (very true) but I was also so mad at myself. Sure, it sucked that I had shattered that door but crying about it was a bit much.
I also hate crying in front of people, strangers in particular. I feel so out of control when I can't control the water running from my eyes or my shallow breathing resulting in sobs. I feel like the judge me, though this is obviously so stupid of me. Logically, I know they're not and they all reacted so nicely but I still feel so bad about putting myself in that situation.
The foursome of my colleagues gathered around the reception area with me and began talking about how ridiculous it was to have glass doors there and people probably had walked into them before. The guy who had run up to me also assured me it had happened before and that it wasn't a big deal. The other guy began explaining how it was glass because of the architect's say-so and back when it first was built no one was allowed to even hang stuff in the outside windows or the architect would call in and have them remove it.
Slowly but surely, the sobbing and hyperventilation quieted down and I felt so happy that I work with such lovely people, all jumping to assure me everything was okay and trying to cheer me up. They even offered to make me a drink (the boys had been bartenders all night), or bring me a soda. They even encouraged me to go in a grab some food from the buffet before it was overrun by everyone.
Even more oddly, I had just been thinking to myself about half an hour earlier, that I was feeling primed for an anxiety attack. By this I meant that I had been away from any kind of safe space for too long as well as constantly being sat in noisy surroundings and amongst crowds as well as almost constantly interacting with people. I was just joking with myself but I could feel how I was on edge and I knew the smallest thing would make me go off but I didn't think I actually end up sobbing at work (it's a first, so I guess that's good). Shattering a 1 by 2 metre glass plate is not a small thing, so (actually a massive trigger turns out).
In hindsight, I guess I should be happy that this didn't happen when 200 people we're just on the floor below me. However, I also realise I should probably have informed the maintenance guy. He was in the building doing sound for the event and I felt like one of the foursome will tell him. Honestly, he scares me a bit, so dealing with him wasn't something I felt like doing.
I walked my lock-up route and checked all the doors. Then I gathered my things and headed home. I'm pretty sure I know why I got so anxious, though it's only coming to me now; I hate doing things wrong (and breaking work equipment is definitely on that list) and everyone will see that damn shattered door. I've made things inconvenient for other people and I hate that. I also subconsciously worry I might get in trouble (though it was an accident.)
I'm just so damn down about making that bloody stupid mistake and I hate feeling like that.
After finishing the sentence above, I talked to my parents and cried again (I knew I would if I told them - having to talk about emotional issues always does). They were pretty understanding and supportive but they think I need someone to talk to about this, so tomorrow Dad is booking a time for me with a therapist. They took it very well, except the last remark from my mother to just "toughen up and not selfdiagnose phobias that I don't have". That hurt me deeper than I think she realised because she makes me question if I am indeed just being a baby and blowing things out of proportions (which I already worry about).
I've taken two headache tablets (I never take more than one, this is a first) because I just want the hurt to stop. My eyes feel swelled up and warm. I might just cuddle up with some YouTube videos and Dan's YouNow show for now.
I'll be back at it again tomorrow with the busy schedule. *sigh*
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