Your brain attempts to shut out the rambunctious blaring of the stupid alarm clock but to no avail. The more you try to ignore it, the louder it becomes until you reach out to hit the off button only to knock the god-forsaken object to the ground. The blaring continues on the floor, just far enough that you can’t reach. Dammit. Now you have to get up; like actually force your body out from the warm covers and reach for that piece of shit that taunts you like a screeching rat.
As you fumble onto your feet, your foot catches the cords and all your inanimate objects on the bedside table crash onto the floor. Great. Now you’ve got a congregation of crap on the floor and you’re pretty sure your alarm is carrying on a celebratory squawk of joy at your growing rage. Grabbing it, you push the off button and throw it across the room as hard as you can. Awesome…look at the dent in the wall. Now you’ve really done it and the sharp pains of a new headache begin to emerge. Might as well keep up with this amazing series of events…that’s how freaking amazing your day and your life feels these days.
Oh right. Today’s the day. Mr. Moron wants the report ready for the 10 am meeting. The stupid report that Jane failed to get done. What the hell is wrong with people? Why the hell do you get stuck picking up the slack all the time? Under your breath, your words spill out, “sure, bring more shit to my desk. Let me put ‘I’m bored’ on my forehead so you can keep shoving shit down my throat. Not like I’m busy already. Filling the role of two people is so bloody easy. What’s one more?” Anger rising up your throat like bile, you furiously shove down your burnt toast, grab that last past of clean pants and the shirt you only wear when you’re desperate. Of course Chad didn’t remember to start the laundry last night. Clearly football has precedence. F’in football.
Arriving at the office is like showing up at the morgue. What a bunch of cold and unfeeling dead people. You know it’s useless to smile. Everyone here despises you. Might as well return the favour. As you reach your desk, you take a breath in and curse the five new files that were definitely not there last night. Great. Another fantastic fall-behind day. Just what you need. At this point, you shut off all emotion and slip into survival mode. You return phone calls (yes, you get to call all those morons that you just love talking to). At break time, you slip into the coffee room, and see that the others are complaining about the manager. What a great opportunity to have your say about Mr. Moron! The others laugh and share your sentiments. You smile at them but as you leave, you know exactly what’s happening. Those bitches will take turns jabbing those knives into your back. Whatever.
By 5pm, you’re exhausted, angry and bitter. Stupid job. Stupid people. Stupid life. Now you get to go home, cook a meal for Chad, wash the dishes, feed the animals, get the place cleaned up before lovely Mother in Law arrives tomorrow (because God forbid, if the bathroom has a hair in it, the world might collapse on itself), and then attempt sleep. Oh wait…sleep. What the hell is that? All the annoying details of work will swarm in your head just as you hit the pillow. Relentlessly and without mercy. By 3 am, you’ll fall into a surface sleep and guess what comes next? Yes, the alarm clock. The piece of shit alarm clock that started it all.
Rinse, then repeat. Again and again.
Feel the rage? Yeah, me too.
Sadly, this is what happens when we slip into survival mode and lose touch with ourselves. Of course we don’t intentionally become this miserable to be around. But we don’t know what we don’t know and we sure can’t fix what we don’t see.
Imagine the impact we have on other people when we become clueless to ourselves? It’s nasty stuff.
And if you’re not truly alive, you’re wasting what should be a life well lived.
The work needs to be done on the inside. Let’s start there then watch the outside transform.
I’m here so let’s talk!