Corporate depression
Performance. Efficiency. Effectiveness. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing.
The thrill seeking game is always exhausting and it takes away more than it gives. If you make your boss happy you can live through another day. And the persisting danger of being layed off gives another layer to masochistic high stakes game called the career.
It is like you almost die every day but through some providence you make it alive, but wounded every time.
It is nothing new. The gladiators went through it. Looking for the thumbs up or down turning point of their short careers.
The bled, they screamed, they choked on own blood for the thirsty crowds invited by the emperor to justify insanity. In many numbers so no doubt remained. For hundreds of years in oceans of blood of common men.
It all starts from the interview, as you have been chosen among many to show your emotional underwear before a committee assembled by vampires. To suck away what’s left of your humanity so they make sure you obey. And the obedience makes you weaker and them stronger. It is their food in a chain that ends at the devil’s throne somewhere in the darkness of existence.
Dos: commitment, sacrifice, tasks, goals, metrics, numbers, obedience, strenght, power, science
Don’ts: pregnancy, family, children, spirituality, jokes, parents, humanness, weakness, humbleness, religion, love
And so…
You get out of bed clinging to a fact that there’ll be food on your table tomorrow, that the kids can go to school and your husband won’t give you hard time.
You get out of the bed because it’s burning as it belongs to the bank.
You get out of the bed or else.
Some day out of nothing you break entirely because your self esteem is in the hands of your boss and he decided to squeeze is it some more. But this time there was nothing left to squeeze. Nothing to crush. All that was left is a bonsai tree of your soul without any leaves left. Scorched and lifeless.
So you don’t perform anymore, you don’t succeed anymore. You’re not a corporate material anymore. You are broken and cannot be fixed. You are depressed.
The grinning face of your boss is distorted and suffering as its owner rents his soul every day to the devil for some zeros on the account. Faces around you have the same tone but it is you who is labeled sick. And the feeling of not belonging overwhelms you as you fall into abyss of uncertainty. And you find yourself being escorted out along with used printer cartridges and garbage that is being taken away on Tuesdays and Fridays.
False compassion and fake empathy echoes as you leave. They “wish” you well hoping it’s not contagious. The depression.
But it is.
Hey soldier. It’s not over. You’ve fought well in the foxholes. You’ve chosen love over effectiveness, you’ve chosen friendship over performance. You’ve chosen humor over efficiency. You never gave up on your emotions.
Love. Go after it. With all your heart. That is your occupation. That is who you are. That is your business. The Boss of love is good. He pays well. He understands you are sometimes late, but when you arrive He is truly happy. You can be sloppy, He forgives. You can get angry at him and talk back, He loves you more. And He takes care of you even when you turn your back on Him and work for the competition.
Being in love is the ultimate antidepressant. Happiness has nothing to do with success but everything to do with love.
Corporations are cemeteries of souls, there is a tombstone with your name on it. It has your birthday on it, too, but not necessarily the expiration date.
Let’s leave it blank.
