colleagues

My coworkers are not my friends.

I know they aren’t but it hurts.

My workmates are my only mates and I used to think my teammates were actually my friends. 

That we were bunch of friends because we spend most of the day together, eat together, work together. 

Maybe they are friends, just not to me.

Laughing together, talking together, drinking after work together.

It makes me sad. Why I even care?

I’ll be fine.

Parents
  • I've been in a similar position, where I thought I was really good friends with my colleagues and then I found out I wasn't invited to things with the group outside work. I try to brush it off but even if you don't want to go to something, it's still nice to at least be invited. 

  • At least you don't have to invent excuses to not go. Or go and then have to spend most of the time hiding in the toilet. Or is that just me?

  • Ah, the memories of hiding in the toilet.  I did this at some workplaces a LOT and it felt like the only way of getting by.  Well that and occasional sick leave.  

    Years later I felt really upset to learn that our son had been doing the same at college but hadn't told us.  It was one of the things that might have led to an earlier diagnosis, well, if services were at all clued up anyway.  

    Mind you, I hadn't mentioned to my son that I used to hide in the toilets too.  Or feign illness.  Even years later I was automatically hiding such things from my family, not just colleagues.  At work I knew that my extreme anxiety wouldn't be understood, I wouldn't get any empathy and i knew I was in the company of people who only considered physical illnesses to be real.  But the habit of hiding my issues carried over into the rest of my life.  

Reply
  • Ah, the memories of hiding in the toilet.  I did this at some workplaces a LOT and it felt like the only way of getting by.  Well that and occasional sick leave.  

    Years later I felt really upset to learn that our son had been doing the same at college but hadn't told us.  It was one of the things that might have led to an earlier diagnosis, well, if services were at all clued up anyway.  

    Mind you, I hadn't mentioned to my son that I used to hide in the toilets too.  Or feign illness.  Even years later I was automatically hiding such things from my family, not just colleagues.  At work I knew that my extreme anxiety wouldn't be understood, I wouldn't get any empathy and i knew I was in the company of people who only considered physical illnesses to be real.  But the habit of hiding my issues carried over into the rest of my life.  

Children