The moment of truth
The training session was one of those events that brought out the worst in me. Yes, I knew about relaxation techniques and positive self-talk, but in reality the experience was so intense that it chewed up those techniques and spit them out. Fact is, I had a hundred different ways to put myself down and these thoughts were so automatic that I never questioned whether they were right or wrong.
As I stared around the room, I saw my nametag at a desk towards the back of the class. I suppose the back was better than the front – but just marginally. I didn’t recognize the nametags on either side of me. Shaking like a leaf, I dropped my notepad on the desk and headed out into the main foyer. It was like I was back in high school – nothing had changed in 15 years – still the same loser I had always been.
I stepped back into the noisy crowd and took a quick look around. Two of my co-workers were standing off to one side, so I decided to walk over and say hi. The conversation seemed very labored and boring, but that was largely due to the fact that I was obsessing about the class which was about to begin – I wasn’t really into the conversation.
10 minutes before the start of class and I was a wreck. I felt as though every eye was upon me – judging, mocking, and critical. My stomach was in knots, and my heart was thumping through my shirt. Was it possible to have a heart attack in such stressful situations? That was certainly an ominous thought. In any case, that amount of stress and anxiety couldn’t have been good.
I was also acutely aware of the fact that I must have had a very frightened and serious look on my face. Certainly, people may have thought that a bit odd (after all, everyone else seemed to be treating the whole event as a party of sorts). Unfortunately, there was no way that I could have mustered anything more than a look of sheer terror at that point.
Deciding to forego breakfast (the sales people seemed to be congregating around that area anyway), I excused myself and headed to the washroom. It was now 5 minutes till start time as I looked at myself in the mirror. I hated the person staring back at me. It was as if I hadn’t slept in a week. Splashing some cold water on my face, I forced open the door before my obsessive thoughts got any worse and bee-lined to my desk through the crowd. I felt ashamed and angry for feeling this way.
As people started filing into the room, I noticed that there was still a lot of loud conversation and laughing coming from the sales group. I wondered what they thought of me sitting there, alone and frightened. Was it even noticeable? I could feel their burning stares as I reached for my coffee mug – my hand trembling as I struggled to take a sip, hoping no one noticed my nervousness.
Everyone brought back some food to the classroom, except for me. There was still time to get up and grab a muffin before things got underway, but that was quite impossible and it would end in disaster anyway. If I tried to get up now, I would be attracting even more attention to myself. People would be staring at me as I got up and walked out of the room. Besides, I tend to move rather awkwardly when people are watching me – almost a jerky, mechanical movement – rather hard to explain really.
So, I decided to sit there and not draw attention to myself. At this point, I needed a distraction, so I started fumbling around with the note pad I brought – pretending to be looking for something. At least this made me look busy and not so petrified.
The instructor stood up and said, “Can I have everyone’s attention please?” I was weak with fear.
One Response to “The moment of truth”
“Besides, I tend to move rather awkwardly when people are watching me – almost a jerky, mechanical movement – rather hard to explain really.”
Almost as if your arms and legs are stiff, with you acutely aware of their movement and placement? Yeah, I often feel that way, too.
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