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Musings of a Misstep, a Mindfuck and a Moral (Part I)
Day One: Friday
I felt defeated.
I skipped the gym, lunch with friends, and went into hiding in my office. I spent an inordinate amount of time on Twitter (which, from a self-professed social media whore, is saying a lot). I was looking people in the eye less and less, there was no spring in my step, and my voice was flat. Online I could keep a good attitude, no one could see me crying. No one could see the pain in my eyes, the discomfort in my wan smile, or the growing sense of vulnerability and deflated value.
People noticed that I was behaving differently. It was obvious that something was different about me, something was making me uncomfortable, and taking away from my happiness. The gas station patrons eyed me with a wary caution, the FedEx agent asked me what was wrong, and my coworkers had to deal with tear-shined eyes and monosyllabic replies. I used email more than ever, because I didn’t want to be bothered to interact with anyone more than I had to.
Before that, however…
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