Is it possible to be honest with yourself when you come to your “favorite” job

It would be better to go back to work on Monday... The thought of a workaholic and the terrible dream of a professional procrastinator. One. They wrote a text about the fact that many burn out, but professional burnout has nothing to do with it. It's just, it's like a habit: waking up, drinking and running to work. It's not because you like it. And not because "labor supposedly frees" and work, as a holiday. In general, if you experience similar feelings, it is not in vain that you wrote. Now we're reading.

“Look at how fast the clouds are floating in the sky!” a colleague of Lena’s suddenly said at lunch, gazing carefully into the large, clean window that comes from our office.

I put the spoon down and also “looked out” into the street. There drizzled rain, bright orange flames burned maples and the wind blew, which tore leaves from the trees and drove clouds into unknown distances.

It's been a hectic morning, and it's been really helpful to take a moment off work, and to catch myself thinking that I really like working with people who know how to notice things like this in the middle of the day.

I'm actually lucky to have colleagues. Empathetic, caring, reliable. I always joke that they are my second family.

It is.

We spend a lot of time at work, and it's probably great to talk to colleagues about more than just reports and deadlines.

But as it turns out, not everyone is so lucky.

Just the other day, a friend of mine told a heartbreaking story about her team.

She uttered such a rude word against him that my philological conscience would not allow it to be reproduced here.

So I'm going to use one that I don't have to decipher.

When I asked her why she still works there, her answer was obvious: “I’m very well paid.”.

(Well, I don’t know what else can hold you in a place you hate with all your heart?)

And all would be fine if in her eyes at the same time did not freeze the terror. Not even fear. I've seen something like that in thriller heroines.

It happened, but I've been developing a strange ability more and more clearly lately. I started reading the emotional state of the person standing next to me.

It doesn't have to be close. Sometimes I can "catch" someone else's mood in line for apples.

So, talking to a friend of mine, I caught something in her state, which made me, oh, how uncomfortable.

Have you ever done that? When does the blood get cold? When does something get stuck inside? When you want to run and you can't.

Don’t confuse them with panic attacks. I know their mechanism very well. It's different.

Honestly, don't think I'm ku-ku, although you have every reason to think so, but it seems to me that my body experienced not my emotions at all, but the emotions of my interlocutor.

And now, she was kind of unbearable.

And I thought, how many people pretend every day that they're okay with everything, just to not even admit to themselves how hard it is for them?

It would be obvious that the girl is not saying something. But it's not in my rules and interests to get into someone else's soul.

And as soon as I decided not to ask her too many questions, how it came out of her.

It was as if I had accidentally plucked a cork from a tightly closed champagne bottle that had been shaken before.

In general, they “poured” me from head to toe. I didn't ask, but when I started, I couldn't stop.

She ended her confused story with a dream, which is repeated in her head over and over again every day.

It's like she comes to work and there's no one there. At all. Empty desks, empty chairs, but computer monitors are on fire. She goes to the offices, calls everyone, and in response only the hum of the system unit. And she realizes that everyone's gone, and she should have gone, too, but she can't do that because she forgot where to go.

In her emotional state, the very fact of repeating a dream already indicates inner tension. And you do not need to go to Freud to understand that her consciousness for some reason tries to avoid seeing the obvious, but the unconscious is not ready to remain silent.

When will you notice me, dear?

After continuing the conversation, I finally made sure that at this moment no one will convince her to change anything in her life. And any friendly advice she will take to bayonets. I wasn't going to.

I try not to take these stories to heart. Just a casual conversation. Nothing personal.

(but i'm not very good at it.).

And, damn it, how strange life is!

In one office you can be yourself and you will be accepted with all your cockroaches (I love you, my dear colleagues!), and in another - like walking on a minefield.

But! The choice is always ours.

Now I am finishing a series of books by Edith Eva Eger, about which I will definitely write a separate text.

Her words about how unbearably painful it is sometimes to break out of your own inner prisons to finally find yourself, as if written about me and a little about all of us.

Being honest with yourself always hurts. But living your life is twice as painful.

The choice is ours. This is it.