I look around the perimeters of my cubicle into the windows of coworkers offices. It's depressing. As my higher-ups meet in secret, I always wonder if they talk about me, and I think back to what I might have done lately to upset the delicate balance in the office politics equilibrium.
Who hates me and would throw me under a bus at a moments notice? Who would go to bat for me when they aren't sure if I'm as right as I say I am? Who's on my side, or working in an interest that will keep me in the black?
I bet a lot of people think that working as a journalist (even though I am really not a journalist yet, although I secretly wish that people would consider me as one) that office politics and backstabbing would be less of an issue, if not marginal. I'm afraid that it's even moreso a problem. We operate in a public sphere, so perception is everything. I've found that there are some people that idolize the way others perceive them, and would sacrifice another person to that idol if necessary. That's just the way it is.
But even more discouraging is that I am uncertain whether or not I have the talent to do this. I don't know anymore. Am I leaning on my deaf ear more because I just can't produce? Am I making excuses for myself? Can I hack it?
I must've used the word "fair" around 40 kajillion times yesterday. "I'd rather be fair than want people to like me," I said. But that's not totally true. I've been careless. I've said things to people before I've had time to take them to heart, an advantage you have on the page but not socially. I've unintentionally singed a few bridges. If only I had the opportunity to proof my conversations prior to publication... alas.
All I can say is I'm sorry, but what's going unsaid is that I lack faith in myself. I make quick decisions every day that I constantly doubt. There is a three-person-deep backstop behind me that should absorb my crashes, but it fails me. Who do I have to blame but myself?
(sorry for being so cryptic, but that's just how it is.)