Working

It’s not like I don’t want to be a good employee. I’d love to be able to come to work, be pleasant, and do my job. But I get there, and I can’t stop thinking about every interaction that I have.
Was I nice enough? Should I be nicer? Did I accidentally insult someone without meaning to? I’m a terrible person. I need to be nicer.

That’s what goes through my head, every single time.

On top of which, my family life is so weird that I don’t know how to explain it to people without looking like a weirdo. People also don’t want to hear about your family trauma. That’s seen as something not good anymore.

You’re only supposed to discuss it with a therapist, I guess? Except I talk with people and I learn more lies that were told and I want to scream about all of them. I had someone try to tell me what my family history was, despite me knowing something else was true. But I can’t make people angry.

I have to hold my tongue, be polite, and listen to what everyone else has to say.

With love,

Diana