I’ve been at my new job for almost a month now, and it’s wonderful.
I’m blissfully tired at the end of every day, so I sleep like a baby. There is an incredible amount to learn, and I feel like I’m using my brain more than I have in years. I feel like I’m getting a handle on the basics, and I know that there are still tons of things to learn. It’s exhilarating and exhausting, exciting and terrifying, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.
The only problem I’m having? Being confident enough to get the hell out of my own way.
Anxiety makes my nasty voice rear it’s ugly little head (it sounds a little like Sheldon Cooper in a snit). Did I do that right? Should I press send? Am I filling out the right form? Do I look like I know what I’m doing?
The answer to all of the above is – I hope – a resounding yes. And still I question myself. It’s a constant back and forth in my brain – some days are better than others, but it’s always there. The nasty little voice repeating, “Don’t screw it up!” over and over and over. And the strong and steady part that says, “Come on – you’ve got this!”
From past experience, I know it’s all about repetition. The more times I do something, the more confident I am that I’m doing it right, and the more the nasty voice fades into the background. I just have to be brave enough to let things happen in their own time, and to keep plugging away.
So that’s what I’m doing – learning as much as I can, doing as much as I can, and trying to ignore that slight hesitation at the end of every task. That irritating little pause that comes whenever I have to tell the nasty little voice to shut the hell up. I’m hoping that soon it will happen less often, and then eventually disappear altogether.
Until then I’m working with the “fake it till you make it” philosophy – appear confident in what you do, and eventually you really will feel that confident.
And as long as I can stay out of my own way, I know I will.
About Jessica Wilson
My name is Jessica Wilson, I’m 35 years old and single. The single is (mostly) by choice, the 35 is not. I am mom to 5 furbabies, have become an avid runner, and own and operate a small business.
I’ve been dealing with mental illness for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety in my early 20’s, and continue to struggle with it or manage quite well, depending on the day. It very obviously runs in my family – my grandmother was bipolar, and mental illness can be traced back at least 3 generations on my maternal side, in various forms.