the real me

Please excuse the cryptic nature of my last post. It was a late-night thought, one that was rattling around in my head as I tried to find sleep after a tough Friday, and I figured if I put it out there, on "paper," it would stop assaulting my brain so I could get some sleep. It worked, thankfully.

I also think, on occasion, you get better answers if you lead with the question rather than the explanation, and that also worked this time, thankfully. Thank you for your comments, they were all very provoking.

On to the explanation. My boss forced me to have a conversation with Emily on Friday. He sat down as the mediator and made us talk to each other honestly about the tension that's been between us for the last couple months. She explained that this is her first real job, and as she watched me take on new duties in my stride, she began to get nervous about her place here, plus with all the growth we've had she's been stressed out anyway. This caused her to freak out and tell me a couple different times that she "didn't care anymore" and that she wanted to quit.

I, in turn, stopped caring about her. In my mind, if she was done with us, if she was on the way out the door, then what was the point of having conversations with her and debating points with her? Why should she get a say in anything if she didn't care anymore?

She told me that she's fine now, that she's over that feeling, that she's found her place and she's happy. It's true that she and my boss aren't fighting anymore, which I'm sure was causing some of those issues.

But I, being me, feel myself not being "over" it. I still feel uneasy with her, unable to trust that she's not going to get stressed out and threaten to quit all over again. I feel like maybe she showed me her true colors. We all get overwhelmed and worried and panicked sometimes, but I see now how she  reacts to that-- like a child throwing a tantrum rather than a rational adult. Of course she and I are exact opposites (quite literally), so I probably shouldn't expect any different, but I would at least hope that she would recognize that both as her friend and the manager of HR for our company, she shouldn't drag me under with her when she starts to flail. It wouldn't help either of us.

I suppose I, as her friend, should have recognized what her struggle was really about, but I've never been very good at reaching out to those in need in any emotional way. I am guarded. I give rational advice, not a shoulder for irrational fears. I always have been and probably always will be this way. I learned very early on that I am too soft-hearted to let most people in. I nearly lost myself at 12 when my brother threatened to rip me to pieces, and so the wall went up. I really think if I took it down for the wrong person I could lose myself again.

I steel myself up continually, swallow down that part of me that really just wants to weep for the state of the world, and face the day bravely, with a cold stare and a raised eyebrow, because it's all I know how to do. I think if I were to let go, there would be nothing left to gather back in. The world sees me as cold and stoic, but those that I've let in know the truth about me, that I'm a blubbering idiot with a heart of mush. Just ask my husband. I feel schizophrenic, that there are people in the world who, when I do something at work like laugh and lightly skip down the hall, look at me and say, "Wow, I've never seen that side of you before." While others, when they visit me at work or listen to me speak to an outsider, say, "Where did that come from?" in reference to my cool or logical tone.

I am both of these people, I need both of these people in order to survive, and one is not whole without the other. The problem occurs when they try to meet, like when a coworker is also a friend, or when a family member becomes an outsider by breaking my trust, and my heart. Then I get confused and am never sure how to react or who to be. Which one is the real me? Which one do I prefer? Neither, and both.