What I am about to share is very personal and terribly embarrassing, for many reasons. However, in the light of the apparent suicide of a very talented, very successful musician and the strange glamor, unintentional or not, that "13 reasons why" is giving to suicide, I'm going to risk sharing too much.
I take a tremendous amount of pride in my ability to do my job, which involves public speaking. I am very comfortable speaking to audiences of more than 200 people or groups of 2 or 3 executives. I don't have to be told to lean in, speak up or stand my ground. I know not all opinions matter and that you cannot please all the people all the time. My confidence is one of my strongest assets.
Yesterday, I was wrapping up a very useful training that will definitely help me be even better at my job. The training was with more than a dozen other teammates from around the world, some of whom I'm very close with and work with often, some of whom I just met and/or do not get a chance to work with in a capacity where they can see how good I am at my job, but all of whom I like and respect and whose opinions matter to me.
The training was excellent. The opportunity to collaborate was fantastic. Yesterday, the second day of the 2 day training was something of a "proof of concept" day. We did group presentations in the morning that were critiqued and then we were given an opportunity to do them again in the afternoon to apply the suggestions and illustrate our ability to really utilize the concepts. The morning presentation went well, though I was uncharacteristically nervous--presenting to my peers always freaks me out a little bit.
So I was determined to be flawless in the second presentation. It was only about 90 seconds and two slides worth of content. It wasn't hard. I had wordsmithed my portion to use the best, most impactful word choices. I rehearsed it, over and over, trying to get the phrases exactly right and perfectly timed.
And then when It was my turn to deliver the closing to our group effort. I totally fouled up. I mean, horribly. I not only forgot my perfectly worded script--that I wrote, I forgot the gist of what I meant to say. With my very talented peers watching, I did the equivalent of a bellyflop at a dive meet. I didn't just look like an amateur, I looked like a hopeless one, one that didn't deserve to be standing on the same platform as the rest. I wanted to disappear. Being de-pantsed in the middle of a school cafeteria in high school would have felt less humiliating and in this case, I was the only person I could blame.
My coworkers are wonderful and were sympathetic and kind and totally understanding. But I wanted to disappear. I could not have been more disappointed in myself.
I put on my professional mask and continued to participate In the training without bursting into tears or even sitting on the verge of them. I watched the rest of the group perform exceedingly well--better than their already good, morning performances. They all went from good to great. I was the only one who had floundered.
I knew this would be the only time more than half of these folks would ever see me present. I knew that my epic failure would be their only impression of my capabilities. And while I am not concerned about the opinions of everyone, as I mentioned, I like and respect all of these people and their opinions do matter to me. It weighed on me so heavily, it physically hurt.
After training, most of the group met for drinks at the hotel bar, before going to dinner. Even prior to my dreadful performance, I had planned to sit dinner out--I'd brought a nutrisystem dinner with me. I joined everyone for a drink and fun, silly and a tiny bit of work related conversation. Everyone was lovely to me. No one even mentioned my epic failure. But I could feel it all over me, uglier and messier than had I spilled an entire glass of tomato juice on a white t-shirt.
Even though my diet program was a valid, and my genuine, excuse to bow out of dinner, I couldn't help but wonder if they all thought that my shame was the reason.
They are all nice people and not gossipy so I didn't really expect that I was even a topic of conversation but I did imagine that if I crossed their minds, it would replay how terribly I'd performed.
Logically, I knew that messing up in a training environment, with no potential loss of a deal or a client, is definitely the place to mess up. But our success in our business is significantly contingent upon our reputation and I knew mine would not be good in the minds of some of these people, no matter how nice they are. I even felt that I had sorely let down the folks who know me well and know what I am capable of.
I wanted to die. Literally. It went through my head that it might be better if I died. If dying meant not having to live with knowing how many people whose opinions I valued saw me fail so badly, dying seemed like a pleasant alternative. Really. Death looked good. Please understand, at no time did I consider killing myself. But dying in my sleep sounded appealing.
Now, I'm not a morose person. I have never had suicidal tendencies. I do have a tendency to over analyze and replay my worst performances over and over in my head, especially when I only have myself to blame. And I played this day over and over and every time it looked and felt worse.
If I'd had an undo button life could have gone on happily but instead I'd left a lasting and humiliating impression on people who would not likely have a chance to ever see me present again.
So Death looked good.
But as keenly aware as I am that I couldn't undo my bad closing, I am also keenly aware there is no undo button for death. And leaving my, usually, good life, loving family, and friends would not be a reasonable trade for permanently escaping my painful embarrassment. Also, there's a very real chance by Monday, most of the people will have totally forgotten about it. It's silly of me to think I merit that kind of time in people's heads.
So ate my nutrisystem pizza (cold, because that was extra miserable) and allowed myself to feel rather pitiful and pathetic, and cry; then I showered and went to bed.
I won't say that I woke up having totally shaken my sense of shame and embarrassment but I faced a few of my fabulous teammates again to carpool to our worksite. I found an empty workstation and set to work on applying some of the excellent techniques I'd learned to the client presentation I had this afternoon. I'd even been able laugh when I confessed to my boss, how I'd bombed yesterday afternoon.
When my client demo came round, I had a cool new deck and new demo game plan, based on some of the good stuff I picked up in the training. I delivered an effective, engaging and well received presentation.
By the time I'd left for the airport, I was feeling really good. I called my husband close to the same time I'd called him the previous day but he talked to an entirely different version of me this afternoon than he had yesterday. Yesterday, I'd been on verge of tears, covered in embarrassment and ridiculously contemplating that death would have been welcome, and not a full 24 hours later, I was refreshed, excited and feeling really accomplished. Had I died in my sleep, which, last night, had seemed like would have been a merciful reprieve, I would have missed my chance to shine again.
I'm not prone to swings like this. I tend to be a bit nutty and short tempered when stressed, which is often, but I generally love my life and would rate myself as a reasonably happy person. Frequently stressed, but happy. I don't go straight to wanting to die when things don't go well for me.
That is why I thought I should share this. Because that thought can cross the minds of reasonably happy and emotionally stable and strong people. That thought can cross the minds of less emotionally or mentally healthy people.
But no matter what type of person is feeling so low, one needs to know that dark feeling is temporary. While it may last more than a day, it is temporary. It will pass. It will. Death, however, is not temporary. Death is permanent. It is not a fair trade for getting rid of shame, humiliation, hurt or failure. Very little is permanent so don't look for an option that is.
Those unpleasant, embarrassing and sad times will pass. The opportunity for something different, better, even great to replace those negative feelings only comes from continuing to move forward. There isn't always a quick fix or immediate change but positive things are out there waiting for you to arrive. So are more crappy ones. And more awesomely fabulous ones. So keep on keeping on.
The training was excellent. The opportunity to collaborate was fantastic. Yesterday, the second day of the 2 day training was something of a "proof of concept" day. We did group presentations in the morning that were critiqued and then we were given an opportunity to do them again in the afternoon to apply the suggestions and illustrate our ability to really utilize the concepts. The morning presentation went well, though I was uncharacteristically nervous--presenting to my peers always freaks me out a little bit.
So I was determined to be flawless in the second presentation. It was only about 90 seconds and two slides worth of content. It wasn't hard. I had wordsmithed my portion to use the best, most impactful word choices. I rehearsed it, over and over, trying to get the phrases exactly right and perfectly timed.
And then when It was my turn to deliver the closing to our group effort. I totally fouled up. I mean, horribly. I not only forgot my perfectly worded script--that I wrote, I forgot the gist of what I meant to say. With my very talented peers watching, I did the equivalent of a bellyflop at a dive meet. I didn't just look like an amateur, I looked like a hopeless one, one that didn't deserve to be standing on the same platform as the rest. I wanted to disappear. Being de-pantsed in the middle of a school cafeteria in high school would have felt less humiliating and in this case, I was the only person I could blame.
My coworkers are wonderful and were sympathetic and kind and totally understanding. But I wanted to disappear. I could not have been more disappointed in myself.
I put on my professional mask and continued to participate In the training without bursting into tears or even sitting on the verge of them. I watched the rest of the group perform exceedingly well--better than their already good, morning performances. They all went from good to great. I was the only one who had floundered.
I knew this would be the only time more than half of these folks would ever see me present. I knew that my epic failure would be their only impression of my capabilities. And while I am not concerned about the opinions of everyone, as I mentioned, I like and respect all of these people and their opinions do matter to me. It weighed on me so heavily, it physically hurt.
After training, most of the group met for drinks at the hotel bar, before going to dinner. Even prior to my dreadful performance, I had planned to sit dinner out--I'd brought a nutrisystem dinner with me. I joined everyone for a drink and fun, silly and a tiny bit of work related conversation. Everyone was lovely to me. No one even mentioned my epic failure. But I could feel it all over me, uglier and messier than had I spilled an entire glass of tomato juice on a white t-shirt.
Even though my diet program was a valid, and my genuine, excuse to bow out of dinner, I couldn't help but wonder if they all thought that my shame was the reason.
They are all nice people and not gossipy so I didn't really expect that I was even a topic of conversation but I did imagine that if I crossed their minds, it would replay how terribly I'd performed.
Logically, I knew that messing up in a training environment, with no potential loss of a deal or a client, is definitely the place to mess up. But our success in our business is significantly contingent upon our reputation and I knew mine would not be good in the minds of some of these people, no matter how nice they are. I even felt that I had sorely let down the folks who know me well and know what I am capable of.
I wanted to die. Literally. It went through my head that it might be better if I died. If dying meant not having to live with knowing how many people whose opinions I valued saw me fail so badly, dying seemed like a pleasant alternative. Really. Death looked good. Please understand, at no time did I consider killing myself. But dying in my sleep sounded appealing.
Now, I'm not a morose person. I have never had suicidal tendencies. I do have a tendency to over analyze and replay my worst performances over and over in my head, especially when I only have myself to blame. And I played this day over and over and every time it looked and felt worse.
If I'd had an undo button life could have gone on happily but instead I'd left a lasting and humiliating impression on people who would not likely have a chance to ever see me present again.
So Death looked good.
But as keenly aware as I am that I couldn't undo my bad closing, I am also keenly aware there is no undo button for death. And leaving my, usually, good life, loving family, and friends would not be a reasonable trade for permanently escaping my painful embarrassment. Also, there's a very real chance by Monday, most of the people will have totally forgotten about it. It's silly of me to think I merit that kind of time in people's heads.
So ate my nutrisystem pizza (cold, because that was extra miserable) and allowed myself to feel rather pitiful and pathetic, and cry; then I showered and went to bed.
I won't say that I woke up having totally shaken my sense of shame and embarrassment but I faced a few of my fabulous teammates again to carpool to our worksite. I found an empty workstation and set to work on applying some of the excellent techniques I'd learned to the client presentation I had this afternoon. I'd even been able laugh when I confessed to my boss, how I'd bombed yesterday afternoon.
When my client demo came round, I had a cool new deck and new demo game plan, based on some of the good stuff I picked up in the training. I delivered an effective, engaging and well received presentation.
By the time I'd left for the airport, I was feeling really good. I called my husband close to the same time I'd called him the previous day but he talked to an entirely different version of me this afternoon than he had yesterday. Yesterday, I'd been on verge of tears, covered in embarrassment and ridiculously contemplating that death would have been welcome, and not a full 24 hours later, I was refreshed, excited and feeling really accomplished. Had I died in my sleep, which, last night, had seemed like would have been a merciful reprieve, I would have missed my chance to shine again.
I'm not prone to swings like this. I tend to be a bit nutty and short tempered when stressed, which is often, but I generally love my life and would rate myself as a reasonably happy person. Frequently stressed, but happy. I don't go straight to wanting to die when things don't go well for me.
That is why I thought I should share this. Because that thought can cross the minds of reasonably happy and emotionally stable and strong people. That thought can cross the minds of less emotionally or mentally healthy people.
But no matter what type of person is feeling so low, one needs to know that dark feeling is temporary. While it may last more than a day, it is temporary. It will pass. It will. Death, however, is not temporary. Death is permanent. It is not a fair trade for getting rid of shame, humiliation, hurt or failure. Very little is permanent so don't look for an option that is.
Those unpleasant, embarrassing and sad times will pass. The opportunity for something different, better, even great to replace those negative feelings only comes from continuing to move forward. There isn't always a quick fix or immediate change but positive things are out there waiting for you to arrive. So are more crappy ones. And more awesomely fabulous ones. So keep on keeping on.
