A Little Wobble

Aw crap. I thought I was doing ok. I really did.

I thought I had managed to detach fairly efficiently from the things which don't matter. I thought I was coping well with my work, that I'd found lots of new and interesting things to do, and that I had reconnected with my fellowship.

And indeed all these things are true.
But. But.

New Boss has convened a meeting of all staff. It's the second one of these he has overseen, and ironically I chaired the first one back in March. It didn't seem to present me with too many problems at the time, even though I had not long returned to work after my Mental Health Episode. I realise now that I coped because I had plenty to keep me occupied. However, I have to confess that I found yesterday weirdly and unexpectedly difficult.

The meeting is held off-site, in a venue unfamiliar to me. And it is while walking towards it that I start to experience the onset of the same kind of peculiar anxiety that began to descend upon me 18 months ago whenever I had to enter the main office. An irrational dread, and sense of impending disaster. I try to ignore it, but when I enter the room and see The Jackals sitting in a pack on one side, the feelings return. So even though a few people I like are strewn among the pack, I sit on the other side because that is the only place I feel safe.

These meetings are totally pointless. New Boss has at least brought in one change for the better - he has put an end to individuals talking about what they are currently working on! So no more ghastly "show and tell" monologues, with people bigging themselves up in the manner of Britain's Got Talent entrants. But of course there is still the other competition - New Boss Factor - to take into account, and there is no way that some of my colleagues will allow this golden opportunity to IMPRESS to pass them by.

I have absolutely no desire or need to impress New Boss. But as the meeting progresses, I realise that oddly I seem to have lost the power of speech. I am simply unable to open my mouth and contribute a single word to the discussion. Is it anxiety? Is it fear? Is it just extreme detachment?? I don't know - but it feels very VERY strange.

New Boss has met me both in Real Woman guise, and as Stepford Employee, and as neither of these two personalities are inarticulate, he keeps glancing over in my direction with an expression of vague annoyance, as if I am doing it on purpose. But I'm not. I just can't produce an utterance. I don't show how I feel inside, naturally. I sit there doing my famous impersonation of someone who is listening - but the truth is that my brain has turned into a washing machine. A noisy rattling one.

To try and stay calm, I think about people I know in trouble to try and give myself a sense of perspective; and when I have finished doing that, I run through all the lines I have in Acts 1 & 2 of the play I am currently rehearsing. (Thank God, I think to myself, I have a rehearsal tonight which is going to take me out of myself). When all these strategies are exhausted, I glance out of the window at buses going past and imagine myself upon them, being transported to anywhere other than my current location...

At 4pm we finally reach Any Other Business, and New Boss announces that we are all invited to stay behind for a general discussion, but that this is purely voluntary and that anyone who wants to, can leave.

No-one moves.
No-one except me that is.

I pick up my bag, head for the exit, and it takes all my willpower to stop myself breaking into a run before I reach the door.