conflict and confrontation
Yes, I have written about this subject before.
Yes, I am writing about it again.
Friday was a long, frustrating, tiring, and anxiety inducing day. I had projects, responsibilities, and leadership roles that were taxing my ability to be in multiple places at once. People were depending on me for resources that were not available. Unfortunately, I never had an opportunity to decompress before bed. That night, I woke up at three in the morning. I was thinking about work and worrying endlessly. I got up around four and made a work to-do list. I slept till six thirty-ish when the cycle repeated.
I worked from my home computer until ten that morning. My chest felt tight for most of the day and occasionally my heart rate would spike and thoughts would become an incoherent, jumbled mess of worst-case scenarios and unrealistic outcomes.
When I did fall asleep Saturday night, my dreams were of work and I did not stay in the same sleeping position for more than a half hour at a time.
Sunday morning looked a lot like Saturday morning.
Sunday night looked a lot like Saturday night.
I did not have to work Monday; it was Labor Day.
The cycle continued.
Monday looked like Sunday, which had looked like Saturday.
Monday night was like Sunday night, which had, of course, looked like Saturday night and Friday night.
However, Monday night was a little unique. As I tried to sleep, I realized the only thing that actually bothered me was the possibility that everyone or anyone would be mad at me.
My drive to work Tuesday morning was an anxious one. I did not listen to my audio book or the radio. I sat listening to my thoughts and praying for His.
A slightly absurd thought came to me: there was nothing I could do to ruin these peoples' Christmas.
It is literally impossible that I could have that great of an effect on them.
Then I minimized the first statement: there was nothing I could do to ruin their next three days.
All of my projects would be over by then. Everything I needed them for, everything I was needed for; it was going to reach its pinnacle on Wednesday morning. I was not even able to mess up three days. Sure, people could still be grumpy and talking about it, but any problems and consequences would be long over.
I minimized the situation even more: there was nothing I could do to ruin their entire Wednesday.
My project and any negative consequences would be over before 8:45am on Wednesday. That's it. The end. If they chose to be displeased all day, that was their choice. But all would end before nine in the morning.
My anxiety hinted at relentment as I got to work. Within the hour, I can completed the work to-do list, I was fully prepped for Wednesday morning, and I was back to being cheerful and chipper. No anxiety to be found.
Oh but wait. I didn't actually learn a lesson or gleam a moral from my story...
Not but a few hours later, I was delivering supplies to the volun-told participants of the larger, school wide project.
"I didn't even know I was teaching tomorrow morning. Last I heard it was only on Friday morning," one displeased and passive-aggressive individual murmured to a coworker as I dropped of the supplies.
"Did you not get the emails?" I asked.
"I don't know; I may have - I have a lot of unread emails," the lady accused.
"Oh, I'm sorry...biology people were going to...and well I sent the emails...also your course team should have...sorry if that didn't happen." I mumbled as I searched for a way to rectify the situation, please the participant, and justify my actions. Then a thought came to me. I ended our conversation by saying I dropped her supplies in her room and then I walked out of the room.
As I walked to my room, I wondered...why is my go-to feeling that of guilt? Like I somehow messed up because I sent out an email with the schedule...and then didn't go ask each person if they read it? How was it possibly my fault that my coworker neglected to read her email and, as a result, was uniformed? It wasn't my fault. I did not need to be 'sorry.' I did not need to justify anything.
******
I know the school wide project is annoying. I know no one wants to do it - that is why the school volun-tells people. I know.
I know it sucks. But suck it up.
Stop complaining to me and read your emails. It's not my fault.
******
But how do I get there? How do I get to the place where I don't assume it's my fault? Where I don't assume I have to fix things? Where I can acknowledge that other people have responsibilities that are not mine.
How do I get to the place where I can consistently look at the person who never checks their email and say (or at least think!) that it's not my fault they don't know what's going on. I sent the email. I do not need to do more.
How do I do all that without defaulting to "I'm sorry I did something bad.
Yes, I am writing about it again.
Friday was a long, frustrating, tiring, and anxiety inducing day. I had projects, responsibilities, and leadership roles that were taxing my ability to be in multiple places at once. People were depending on me for resources that were not available. Unfortunately, I never had an opportunity to decompress before bed. That night, I woke up at three in the morning. I was thinking about work and worrying endlessly. I got up around four and made a work to-do list. I slept till six thirty-ish when the cycle repeated.
I worked from my home computer until ten that morning. My chest felt tight for most of the day and occasionally my heart rate would spike and thoughts would become an incoherent, jumbled mess of worst-case scenarios and unrealistic outcomes.
When I did fall asleep Saturday night, my dreams were of work and I did not stay in the same sleeping position for more than a half hour at a time.
Sunday morning looked a lot like Saturday morning.
Sunday night looked a lot like Saturday night.
I did not have to work Monday; it was Labor Day.
The cycle continued.
Monday looked like Sunday, which had looked like Saturday.
Monday night was like Sunday night, which had, of course, looked like Saturday night and Friday night.
However, Monday night was a little unique. As I tried to sleep, I realized the only thing that actually bothered me was the possibility that everyone or anyone would be mad at me.
My drive to work Tuesday morning was an anxious one. I did not listen to my audio book or the radio. I sat listening to my thoughts and praying for His.
A slightly absurd thought came to me: there was nothing I could do to ruin these peoples' Christmas.
It is literally impossible that I could have that great of an effect on them.
Then I minimized the first statement: there was nothing I could do to ruin their next three days.
All of my projects would be over by then. Everything I needed them for, everything I was needed for; it was going to reach its pinnacle on Wednesday morning. I was not even able to mess up three days. Sure, people could still be grumpy and talking about it, but any problems and consequences would be long over.
I minimized the situation even more: there was nothing I could do to ruin their entire Wednesday.
My project and any negative consequences would be over before 8:45am on Wednesday. That's it. The end. If they chose to be displeased all day, that was their choice. But all would end before nine in the morning.
My anxiety hinted at relentment as I got to work. Within the hour, I can completed the work to-do list, I was fully prepped for Wednesday morning, and I was back to being cheerful and chipper. No anxiety to be found.
Oh but wait. I didn't actually learn a lesson or gleam a moral from my story...
Not but a few hours later, I was delivering supplies to the volun-told participants of the larger, school wide project.
"I didn't even know I was teaching tomorrow morning. Last I heard it was only on Friday morning," one displeased and passive-aggressive individual murmured to a coworker as I dropped of the supplies.
"Did you not get the emails?" I asked.
"I don't know; I may have - I have a lot of unread emails," the lady accused.
"Oh, I'm sorry...biology people were going to...and well I sent the emails...also your course team should have...sorry if that didn't happen." I mumbled as I searched for a way to rectify the situation, please the participant, and justify my actions. Then a thought came to me. I ended our conversation by saying I dropped her supplies in her room and then I walked out of the room.
As I walked to my room, I wondered...why is my go-to feeling that of guilt? Like I somehow messed up because I sent out an email with the schedule...and then didn't go ask each person if they read it? How was it possibly my fault that my coworker neglected to read her email and, as a result, was uniformed? It wasn't my fault. I did not need to be 'sorry.' I did not need to justify anything.
******
I know the school wide project is annoying. I know no one wants to do it - that is why the school volun-tells people. I know.
I know it sucks. But suck it up.
Stop complaining to me and read your emails. It's not my fault.
******
But how do I get there? How do I get to the place where I don't assume it's my fault? Where I don't assume I have to fix things? Where I can acknowledge that other people have responsibilities that are not mine.
How do I get to the place where I can consistently look at the person who never checks their email and say (or at least think!) that it's not my fault they don't know what's going on. I sent the email. I do not need to do more.
How do I do all that without defaulting to "I'm sorry I did something bad.
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