IHOP

Good Sunday my friends.

I had the pleasure of dining at IHOP with one of my wonderful cousins this morning. I tend to focus almost exclusively on the person I am eating with, but this morning we witnessed some trouble in the workplace at this bustling establishment. One waitress was being physically restrained by the manager while she and another worker had it out. They made no attempts to conceal the exchange from the customers. Although they weren't being excessively noisy, one could feel the tension radiating from them throughout the area where we were seated.

I couldn't take my eyes off the fight. It was mesmerizing because I remember once in my life being in a similar (but not as physical) situation. Spats in the workplace have a special folder in the file cabinet of my anxiety. The nerves that ensue before, during, and after a tiff are enough to make me want to hurl. I don't like stirring up trouble, but once in a while I lose my cool and spout off at someone who has been getting on my nerves. I think this is a normal and pretty common occurrence in all occupations. Nevertheless, I always regret my part in these issues.

Whatever I do or say plays on repeat in my head for weeks on end. I over-analyze and think obsessively about what I should have done or said. The anxiety that is associated with the workplace problems is an especially scary kind because you have to return to your work and interact with those that you are on the outs with. I remember the days after the blow-up as kind of unreal. The anxiety picks up my normal fears and magnifies them to epic proportions that totally freak me out.

This is where an outside voice of reason always comes in handy. I am not an unreasonable person, nor do I act out of malice and ill will. When I get angry or upset it is usually for a good reason. Anger doesn't lend itself to great decisions, but we all have to deal with it anyways. I often turn to my mom to assure me that I'm being too hard on myself and that in two months from now the whole problem will seem quite insignificant. Sometimes those soothing words fall on deaf ears though. Sometimes the nagging anxiety sticks around for way too long.

This is a problem that I admit I cannot handle on my own. God has blessed me with a handful of gifted therapists over the years who help me to see what's going on in my brain from an objective perspective. I owe much of my healing over the years to my therapists. They have played a significant role in my life that no other person could fill. Although the stigma of "seeing a shrink" is still rampant in our society, I will gladly talk with anyone who is interested about my experiences with a trained therapist. Along with my faith and my family, my therapists have helped to turn my life around after many different trials and tribulations.

I believe in the power of my thoughts. I believe in the power of your thoughts. We can change the thoughts we don't like and encourage the ones we need more of.

Long live cognitive behavioral therapy!

Love,
Charlotte