I’d prefer that you think of me as all put together, my old shit neatly dealt with and tucked away. But there I was, getting whacked upside the head for the umpteenth time. My boss told me that I was sniping at my colleagues and making them feel disrespected. The neon sign was glaring: Micah, you don’t have to make other people feel like crap in order to feel good about yourself.
This is not a bug, it’s a feature of my life story. Critical mom, bully brother, being the square peg to the round holes at school. The end result is that I struggle with feeling less-than and sometimes I lash out in ways that aren’t pretty. I imagine it will make me feel better-than but mostly it makes me feel terrible.
I know I can’t afford to let this unconscious gremlin pop up all the time at work. I’m starting to get a reputation as “that person”. You know, the asshole everyone avoids because I’m either wonderful or a loose cannon.
I’ve read enough self-help books to know that I need to learn to love myself. But I also believe that people who read those books are losers. Totally schizophrenic, I know. But I think it’s time for me to choose. Do I want to do the hard work of dealing with my shit or do I want to lose my job? Hmmm. Doesn’t sound like much of a choice after all.