A Cunning Emotion

What could that sneaky feeling be? The feeling that drives us to act against our own needs and desires. Even when you intellectually understand that what you're doing or about to do is profoundly wrong, capable of destroying everything you've worked so hard for.

Guilt – a feeling that stares at you with puppy-dog eyes, and suddenly you find yourself chained. It's as if nothing has changed.

Not too long ago, I delved into analyzing memories and grounding associated emotions and feelings in a post titled "How to Make Peace with the Past." But it didn't take long before a past issue resurfaced, one I thought had already dissolved. An issue that was, in many ways, the reason I started this blog in the first place. My job had become hazardous to my health. And not because I was working with toxins or in an uncomfortable position. I was an assistant to a master. Working with people, monitoring the production process, and everything else that came with working in a factory.

Finally, I broke through what caused me to forget myself and self-destruct. My team members were superb manipulators, playing on guilt. Yes, the job was interesting, challenging, and not lacking in excitement. But amid all the hustle and bustle, there was no time to rest. If something didn't go as planned, the owner was on our case first. The master had learned how to brush it off, and then I got "blamed." How could you not get this right? But it was all hidden beneath a pleasant layer of "sugar icing," and I bit the hook right at its core. And then I needed to push even harder, rest was a thing of the past. Even if regular breaks were available, I was never truly capable of resting. I had to perform just as well as the master and do everything to keep the production line moving, among other things.

Because of my peculiar nature, I had become an advocate for the workers, trying to make the ideas from above more "digestible" for them. However, since I couldn't yet distinguish between my own feelings and those of others, I mistook all emotions for my own. The curse of being an empath. Feeling the emotions of others. I only learned to make that distinction when I was utterly broken and unable to work anymore. The guilt of not being worth anything anymore if I couldn't do this kind of work anymore. That thought was dangerously close to the final notion of ending it all, to the point where I was ready to put an end to my life. Ordinary drivers saved me though, those simple men who remembered me even when I was no longer managing the workshop but was already on sick leave. A big thanks to those men, who through simple conversation made me feel valued and, truth be told, also like a woman. Qualities that had long disappeared while doing that job.

But now, that story from ten years ago unexpectedly resurfaced. They tried to lure me back in. This time, for the position of the master. What made it sharp was that I even started considering going back. I was at my wit's end, and within two days, what I had become was just a shattered being. Fortunately, in my new workplace, I have good colleagues who told me outright that my departure would not be a good idea, and that they still saw me as part of their team. This gave me the strength and determination to stand up to the ongoing manipulation and stay where I love my work, where I can leave work at work at the end of the day and focus on home and other energetic matters.

I believe I've now resolved this lesson, and appealing to guilt will only result in anger and a stubborn stance. Being truly myself is more important than allowing myself to be stuffed back into the "box" where I was nothing more than a marionette, moving just as the puppet master pulled the strings.

From 14. APR. 2017

Elle Vihman