on panic attacks in the workplace
| January 20, 2009 | Posted by caroline under personal, storytelling |
For some reason, these tender nerves somehow stand on end even when there’s nothing to lose, nor fear.
I found myself cowering over my lunch bag, transported back to my highschool years, hoping that two and a half minute microwave nuke would never come to an end so that I may never face the pending question. Where would I sit? What would be a smooth segue into comfortable silence? Yes, it happens, even to me, social butterfly extraordinaire. More than anything else, I clam up and break a sweat at the thought of approaching a specific group of people and sitting down to a meal with them. Don’t get me wrong, though. Meeting friends and strangers for meals, coffees, drinks, hair removal–all of these barely trigger a yawn in me, let alone a trembling at the thought. Similarly, there is only one person from my past who has romantically drawn this reaction from me.
Really, I am bent and broken by creative, important COLLEAGUES, the sort of people I might want to be, mimic, compete with or learn from. It’s not that I don’t have anything to offer, but that I want so badly to be liked by these sometimes peers. I don’t want to say the wrong thing, and I don’t want to say too many of the right things. I don’t want to stand out, but I want to exist. I want to contribute, and create an image in mind that won’t be brushed aside. I want them to say hello to me, and goodbye, with maybe a trailing conversation that isn’t small talk.
I used to freeze up at auditions, stumble through lines I knew inside out, and take on a scared deer appearance while slating. I learned to breathe in, deeply and meaningfully. I counted to ten. Truthfully, this helped only a LITTLE. The only thing one can do in these cases is suck it up, call yourself junior, and dive. Nowadays, I have to remind myself that I have nothing to lose. In anything. It’s a very conscious statement to myself that I battle everyday.
The microwave started ringing and I was dragged from my nightmares of pulling up a chair and the conversation stopping, with all these important faces and minds looking up at me questioningly. I almost want to ask, ‘Is this seat saved?’ meekly, but simply grab the chair, smile my most winning smile, and sit down. Step one, complete. Next? How do I make them stop staring at the curried concoction that is making the whole room smell like India? I know, I should offer them a taste, but that is paramount to giving away my lunch money. Ain’t nobody gonna touch my lunch…
[...] co-workers’ opinions matter to me in a media setting (as I mentioned in a previous article On Panics in the Workplace)..Though this meeting featured no entertaining panic attacks. [...]