Wednesday, 15 April 2015

Put down the gun

I suffer from PTSD. Yes, another ailment to add to my many. No, I have never thankfully been in the line of true fire, and the following does not intend to be disrespectful to anyone that has ...but being back in work environment occasionally gives me flashbacks to a work environment of a few years ago.  And the story goes like this...

I sit at my desk and feel my heart beat faster each time she walks past my office.

I wonder why, at age with years of experience under my belt I experience such a knee jerk, projectile vomit, knot in my tummy reaction when my eyes follow her as she strides by. I loathe every moment I have to interact with her.

The trenches were dug and war announced before I even had time to warm my desk chair.

This woman had her war cry entrenched in her psyche years before she joined this work battlefield. She has 'Warning, Armed Mean Person' tattooed on her forehead.

I observe her guarding the CEO's office, waiting, watching for her opportunity to pounce.

Despite my many years of experience I am ready to walk out and run back into the loving attentive arms of my cherubs who with every breath make the world a better place.

Day in day out a steady stream of soldiers enter the office, ready to do their best, ready to commit their know how, their experience, keen to present their passion, excitement and dedication - that combined moves mountains. Collectively the professional spirit here is incredibly motivating and positive but that one poacher shoots down any sense of achievement, success or empowerment.

I watch fascinated wondering how and why I allow myself to react so badly to one person, and as try as I may to focus on the many other positive, dedicated professionals I work with, that I allow this one rotten egg to kill my professional mojo.

A bully in her own right, I have had to swallow my insecurities and stand up to her a few times.  I wonder if my reaction is because this woman has little sense of teamwork, team spirit. Is it because I find her intimidating or am I simply off my game?

Having spent the last few years dedicated to encouraging cherubs to laugh, love and explore,  I wonder if I have become so Mummyfried that I have become soft? By cherubs I also include my lovely little team I have the absolute honor to lead, yes I do mean my work children as well as my own birth children.

Each morning I slap on my war paint and get ready to face battle.  I wonder if everyone else feels the same way. I suck it up and face the day determined.  I join the troops with grey, somber faces.  It would be nice if we could all put down our weapons and just played nice. Now that would be a nice ending where we all lived happily ever corporate life after.

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