I felt so disconnected from everyone at Big Shine.

To me, they all looked so happy, beautiful, and perfect. I was depressed, so I perceived myself as ugly, sad, and pathetic.

They were united in being condescending toward the salesmen. That attitude bothered me. Once again, I couldn’t stand in solidarity with them and share in their jokes.

Plus, I was shut into my little room, isolated from everyone. When I met them in the halls, I would lift the corners of my mouth in a guilty half-smile, thinking they must surely be able to see through me at how little I matched their energy.

But I tried to be joyful, tried to get along with them, tried to be a good employee. One day, I decided to be bold and add a song to the office playlist for once: A violin piece by Ray Chen.

A deaconess complained through the office group chat: “Who put classical music on the playlist? My ears hurt!” And she kept going on and on, complaining about the music.

My one attempt to connect with others in the workplace and be “part of the family” was met with ridicule.

It was a small thing, but because it was such a desperate and last-ditch attempt on my part, it wounded my heart deeply. I felt like it was a sign that I didn’t belong.

I quietly left my desk and went to my car to cry. I could feel myself reaching a breaking point. I felt that I was going to—that I had to—do something drastic.