A Day at Work
I feel like I manage to appear fairly normal. No one knows what is going on inside. I have to tell an employee to remove their hat. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, hold my head high. If I act like I don't feel nervous, I won't be, right?
I sit at my desk, burying myself in work. Someone has a question. I'm suddenly worried I won't know the answer. I fidget in my chair, lean back to try to appear comfortable, and twist and pull at my hair. I am so focused on appearing to know what I'm doing that I miss half of what the employee is telling me. I take another deep breath, and ask them to repeat the question. When I realize I know the answer, I sit up straight and provide it. If I'm not sure of the answer, I stumble over my words and try to brazen it out. By the time the employee walks away, I feel like I will burst out of my skin. I pace the floor, appearing to check productivity, but really just trying to calm my mind and slow my pounding heart.
My mind tells me I am good at my job. My manager tells me I am good at my job. And, for the most part, I enjoy my job. But there is always that voice inside my head telling me I am faking it. Telling me I'm not good enough. Telling me that I can't possibly convince these people that I am normal.
That's when the anxiety truly sets in. I bury myself in my employee evaluations, pulling numbers and finding productive ways to occupy myself. I begin to feel better.
Now that one employee who makes me the most nervous appears at my desk. The one that makes me wish I wasn't a supervisor. The one who is the typical nice guy. The one that makes my heart pound. I can't let on. The anxiety sets in again. I have to be normal. Normal people don't feel this way! I brazen it out, and don't think anyone has noticed anything. But what if they do?
What if, at the end of the day, everyone just thinks I'm crazy?