Last week, my workweek was a little rough. Too many meetings, which I hate anyway, and one that included a person that seems hell-bent-for-leather on demeaning my work and reputation. I think she is carrying a grudge because I made a prudent business decision without getting her permission, of which she really has no authority over, but it pissed her off. My manager and director were on board with the decision, so it wasn’t as though I ran wild on my own. Needless to say, she was once again a nasty b*itch in last week’s meeting. It is getting OLD.
Today is President’s Day and a work holiday. I decided to use the day to ruminate and try to come up with some ideas on how to deal with the situation. Being around this person is extremely toxic and I am not the only one that feels this way. Because I am very empathic, her nastiness coats me like tar and it takes awhile to recover. I am left feeling worthless and depressed.
This morning I told my Sweetie that I was going to ruminate today and he said “oh, like a cow regurgitating and chewing their cud”. I laughed and looked up “ruminate” and one of the definitions was “chewing your cud”. The funnier part to this was the further comment of “cows release more methane while ruminating”. I guess it seems apropos that I named this blog “Loving Your Sh*t”.
As I ruminate on the situation, a recurring theme comes up with worthiness and responsibility. I often feel as though I continually need to prove my worth, which causes me to take on too much responsibility and them I am tired and resentful of those around me. Being an empath causes me to feel chaotic energy, which results in a deep need to have an organized, near-perfect environment. To get that, the need to control takes over and then I must do it myself to meet my standards.
I’ve done enough study and research to know that I am not alone in these feelings. Many people, especially women, are caught in this recycling trap. Chewing our cud, so to speak. This emotional bind is very often caused by emotionally unavailable parents. For women, it is primarily the mother and causes a deep loss of self. There are typically two types of coping mechanisms that result: Mary Marvelous and Sally Screw-Up. Both play out the core wound of Not Good Enough and the efforts to portray this result. I happen to be a Mary Marvelous and overdo everything I tackle in order to be recognized and valued by someone. It is a pattern that is extremely difficult to break, although I have progressed greatly within the last decade. I may never be able to completely break the pattern, but I’m damned sure going to try.
Much of what happened last week centers around our budgeting process. It is something I have prepared since I first started working there, and I took responsibility for it all. To the point that I only had the managers add the discretionary spending. They didn’t even have to be part of the justification process, which is endless questioning about why we need to spend money for something. Our department’s budget has many complicated funding sources and programs, so there is a lot to the process. These complications don’t fit in with the basic process as dictated by this woman, and she is making this year’s process difficult. She wants it her way. It hit me that why should I continue to take the brow-beating and not let the managers be responsible? I will be gone before next year’s budget so I think it is time that they learn how to do this.
I realize that I created this whole deal with my un-ending need to prove myself. Well, I’ve done that and now all my effort is being stripped away by this person. I must step back and begin to withdraw from so much responsibility. I must teach them how to do the work and provide the justification. They need to meet with the person and deal with her dictates. I know all of this, yet it is difficult. My core wound doesn’t want to disappoint nor deal with the b*itching that is sure to come. My core wound says you aren’t good enough to ask others to do the job they should be doing. If I don’t, the cost is my well-being and possibly health.
So I’ve been praying to the Universe for help. I’m asking for courage, for strength, and for the words to ask for these changes. This truly is about “Loving Your Sh*t” and I must walk my talk. Or else I end up face first in a cow pie and I’ve stepped in enough real ones to know.
Loving Your Sh*T 