Wednesday, March 22, 2017

On anger and perfection

I am the strangest perfectionist I know.

The picture that usually comes to my mind when I think of a "perfectionist" is someone who is always very organized, almost always quite intelligent, and of course they are successful. I didn't  necessarily believe that someone could have a desire to be perfect and through that desire become angry and controlling - and sometimes even fail at doing things right.

I realized that I have a great desire to make sure that things are always running smoothly. This isn't always because I hate confrontation or have trouble finding solutions for problems, but the best way I can think to describe it is a craving for efficiency. I don't like it when things could be going smoothly but someone, somewhere along the way, made an error or didn't make an effort. I can accept that I can't control everything, but nothing puts a damper on my day more than someone not pulling their weight.

So sometimes when I find the broken link along the chain of "things that should be going great for me/my job/etc. today," I'm really angry. Someone didn't think to communicate effectively or even at all. Someone didn't order something we ran out of at work. Someone had an excuse not to do something very important that is now going to fuck it up for everyone else. Instead of trying to empathize with the reasons why something didn't go as planned, or ignoring it, or anything else that's probably more helpful - I pull the extra weight and resent everyone for it. I can stew and hold a grudge for an entire work day if I really don't think someone listened or took the necessary steps to prevent a problem. And I think deep inside, I'm feeling righteous because I knew better than someone else did and I know that I'll swoop in to fix the problem someone else created.

To make things better, something about waking up on any Wednesday morning puts me in a terrible mood. The first thing that puts a bump in my road on a Wednesday will make you wish you had never met me at all. The exact same scenario could come up on a Tuesday or a Monday and I will be fine, but say a prayer if it's Wednesday. I've been hyper aware of my mid-week grumpiness and have been trying to take extra care to remember to breathe, tell myself it won't matter later, all of the mindful solutions I've learned to make sure my heart doesn't expire on me. So after a few weeks of being a little bit less "Satan" to my co-worker, I said goodbye today and asked if I had been as mean lately and if I could do anything else to improve.

I was hoping for something positive. I was pleading for a pat on the back and encouragement that I'm heading in the right direction. Instead I was met with a pause before, "it's not that you're being mean today. That's just you being Sarah."

Maybe this has multiple interpretations, or the word choice wasn't exactly the sentiment they wished to express, but for now; this is crushing me.

It's not that I'm mean for a good reason, or on a certain day of the week, or when the stars align just so.

It's just who I am to some people.

I've watched over time as some people have regarded me with respect and complimented my abilities and work ethic, to eventually stop saying positive things and instead make jokes about my controlling and angry attitude. I don't want to be the butt of "it must be that time of the month" jokes every day, but that's who I have been more often than not. I threw a temper tantrum last week over something that went a little screwy with my computer. This is not normal behaviour, not for me, not for anyone.

I value working hard and well - but not over respect and sanity. I am desperately trying to learn how to balance caring about what I produce without alienating others or worrying about whether they have the same output.

This bit of writing isn't going to have a happy ending where I reveal how I've solved my problem. I'm certainly a work in progress.

Friday, February 10, 2017

this is an open letter to any man that i have shared spaced with in a professional setting or may meet and work with in the future:



i am polite because my mother raised me so. the golden rule - Do to others what you want them to do to you - was repeated often in our house.

my kindness is not to be mistaken for flirtatiousness. i am kind because it is important to show warmth in this cold world.
i am not kind to stroke your ego.
i am not kind to be coy.
my kindness does not have an ulterior motive.

please don't talk about my shoulders. my hair. my face. my back. my legs. the shape of my clothes.

i work so that i can live. so i can pay my bills. so i can network. so i can further my career. so i can garner more skills. so i can improve upon the skills i already have.

i do not work so i can be the subject of your endless compliments. i do not beg for your compliments so i can live. so i can pay my bills. so i can network. so i can further my career. so i can garner more skills. so i can improve upon the skills i already have.

i can't believe i have to ask this of you.

but...
please don't touch my shoulders.
my hair.
my hands.
the small of my back.

even if it is a light brush as you laugh and tell me a joke. even if it is as you have to pass by me in a hallway, room, or aisle. even if you are looking over my shoulder at a computer to look at work. even if you think it is innocent or friendly and you believe you do it to everyone.

just... please. please don't stand so close.

please don't don't say you'll miss me so much over the weekend.

please don't tell me i'm beautiful.
please don't call me a lovely young lady.
please don't tell me i couldn't do anything wrong.
please don't call me perfect.
please don't tell me about your sex life.



...
the worst part is, i will always be wrong.

i was too nice.
i wore the wrong clothes.
i gave the wrong impression.
i am overreacting.
i am a feminist;
an angry, radical feminist.
one of those girls.

i'm crying rape;
crying wolf.
you're laughing at sexual harassment in the workplace videos.
i'm arrogant for thinking you would want me.

i just want to be kind.
i just want to be warm enough to make work less sterile and strict.

i may be beautiful.
i may be lovely.
i may be young.
but;
it will never impact my ability to work hard.
and i will not work harder or differently because you tell me so.
don't tell me so.

Monday, September 05, 2016

Nobody Loves Us

people think all we do 
is lie around and think of how 
rich we'd be if we didn't think 
life could improve 
and we just can't wait to make more mistakes 
and we just can't wait till the whole thing blows up in our face... - Morrissey

 I've made some odd choices in my life. I haven't exactly enjoyed growing up. I feel as though it's a simple dream for a young teen to be anxious to have their own car, move out from the watchful look of their parents, and stay up late without consequences. There's always more to it than playing and doing what you want, however. Our education system forces us to decide who and what we want to be by age fourteen. The courses we choose will directly impact and effectively limit our options when applying for post-secondary. And I don't know about you, but when I was fourteen I wasn't thinking much about where I would live, what I would spend 80% of my day doing, how I would contribute to society, and if it would be able to pay my bills.

I hate debt, living pay cheque to pay cheque, feeling stuck in a place and time where I can feel my "free time" and "younger days" slipping out of my grasp. I want to create and absorb so much beauty that I know the world has to offer, but I've dipped my toes into adult quicksand and I'm taking the old "don't move, you'll sink quicker" advice to heart. I'm letting it happen, slowly, every day, hour by hour. I'm at a stand-still with my hobbies. I've debating going back to school. I'm trying to plan a vacation, albeit a small one, at least it's better than being nowhere but home and work. I feel passionless and weak. I feel defeated.

I'm working as a pharmacy technician these days, and it's a pleasant job. I like the hours and the people. I can see myself staying for a while until my other half finishes school and his business takes off. I'd much rather be doing something in a creative field, but I don't feel as though painting or photography will be stable enough. The dream is to have an okay job and fill the rest of my time with creative endeavors, like my traditional and digital painting, a fashion photography blog, and act in and help make my significant others' films. One day at a time, I force myself to try something new, practice my skills, and effectively work towards these goals. I'm just so acutely sad and it makes "go draw for a bit" a really tough thing to sell myself.

I know enough about setting goals that I'm going to overwhelm myself, but there's just so many things I need to make my days worth getting up for. I need to be softer, kinder. I need to take in the good and let go of the bad. I need to let myself dream and feel. I need to listen. I need to create. I need to take care of myself physically. I need to let myself be loved, especially when I don't believe I deserve it.

Today and tomorrow and forever after, I will throw myself at life and life will have to react to me.

Thursday, August 04, 2016

At the current time

I miss writing. There was a time when I truly felt the cathartic release that came along with being able to accurately put one's deepest emotions into a language others could identify with.

I miss using any language at all, verbal or otherwise. I am quiet lately. Oddly so.

I reflected on some of my past musings and I am sorely disappointed to report that not much has changed. I am still small and stale, angry and apologetic, capable of loving too intensely yet altogether too distantly.

The past year has seen yet another career change, death, and still there has been some redeeming beauty. I still cry. I still wish I could be extraordinary. I still wake up every day and groan inwardly, praying for my life to end despite being utterly destroyed that someone else I know had the audacity to chose to take theirs.

Every wish and hope and dream and goal I have will go another day unseen and unachieved, and still I sigh and say "maybe tomorrow." One day I will awake and there will not be much time left. I am not usually one for feeling regretful but I truly fear the regret unbeknownst to me yet will catch up.