in which I take it all back

This morning the new counsellor in my office sent me a text message to say she would be late because she found a note from the police on her car stating her registration had expired.  She was going to stop on the way to work to renew it, which would likely make her an hour late.  She also looped one of our administrators into this conversation.  I did not respond - for a number of reasons:  1.)  I didn't particularly care, 2. ) I was working and didn't want to waste time talking about it, 3.) I sort of thought it was stupid but didn't really consider it my place to comment,  and 4.) she was asking if she needed to book a half day off to make her lateness "legit" and it isn't my role to decide upon such a thing as I am not her boss.  (I expected the administrator to respond, but she didn't respond either.)

None of my reasons for not responding were especially good reasons, but neither did they come from a place of malice or cruelty.  I was just not especially interested in or bothered about the situation enough to try and manage it.  I figured she'd show up when she was sorted out.  The end.

Instead, apparently, she used that time to both register her car and work herself into a lather, convincing herself that the reason I (and the administrator) didn't respond was that we had decided she was an incompetent idiot unworthy of our time.  I know this because she told me so when she burst into tears in my office.  I was startled, to say the least.

I have noticed that this new counsellor is insecure.  She is defensive, frequently, when anyone offers to help her or gives her a suggestion.  No problem, I've stopped doing either one.  I think N has stopped too - and M would never have offered anyone her help at the best of times.  I have given her space and tried to be encouraging.  Her meltdown really took me surprise because no one has ever said anything negative about this counsellor at all.  I had no idea the depth of her insecurity.

Sometimes I say self-deprecating things about how neurotic I am.  And to some degree this is true, but I compare myself with what I aspire to be.  When I compare myself with this sort of neurosis, I recognize I am really quite reasonably healthy.  I know I'm good at my job.  I know I'm good at dealing with people (even when I secretly want to kill them).  I know I work hard.  And for the most part, I assume other people at work feel the same way about me that I feel about myself.  This sort of paranoia is hard to understand.

I wasn't sure if I should counsel her or just reassure her.  I wanted to do the former, but I don't think she would have responded well to me asking her any difficult questions.  I did tell her that she sometimes gave me the impression she thinks we are in some sort of competition, and assured her that we aren't.  There is no scarcity here.  We are union workers, with no need to destroy one another.  She said she is competitive by nature as though this was something that could not change.  Again, I chose not to counsel.  I just assured her that I wasn't competing with her for anything.  That there's plenty of mental illness in the world for both of us to work on solving.  (Try not to look at her when you say it.)

It has become a frustration to me, the realization that other people cannot compartmentalize themselves the way I do.  I freely admit that I can be difficult to live with, a terrible housekeeper, an unpredictable partner, a pain in the ass, etcetera.  At home.  But at work, I put all that junk away and do my job.  Not that I think I am a perfect worker, but I don't bring my mess to work with me.  I show up on time, I get things done, I don't miss deadlines, I respond to requests for service, blah blah blah.  And I definitely don't get mad at people and burst into tears.  Not that I have never had conflict with a colleague (Crazy Sue nearly killed me) but I did all my breaking down about that at home.   I just cannot fathom coming to work in a rage and bursting into tears in someone's office.  I'm old-fashioned this way; I believe in saving the crazy for the people who love me most.  Poor them.


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