"I have to become good at work properly."
"I have to catch up with everyone."
"I hate being a burden."
When I was repeatedly suffering from depression and adjustment disorders, my head was always filled with these thoughts.
When I first joined a new workplace, I could tell myself not to push too hard. However, perhaps due to the inferiority complex and sense of falling behind in life ingrained by past experiences with depression, I inevitably sought approval from those around me.
I had a persistent feeling that there was no place for me if I couldn't do things well. Therefore, I unconsciously believed that "being good at work" was the reason I was allowed to be here (at the workplace). I wanted to be strong.
Gradually, I began to realize that I had misunderstood what "strength"—or rather, "strength in the context of working"—really meant.
At one point, I decided to closely observe people who seemed to be succeeding at work.
Those who were doing well typically possessed a kind of strength: the ability to disclose their own weaknesses, saying things like, "I'm struggling a bit right now," or "Honestly, I don't feel confident about this."
In extreme terms, it didn't matter if you weren't good at "work."
What people like me, who are constantly battling depression and adjustment disorders, need first is not "getting through tasks," but "the ability to clearly articulate our current state to those around us."
Because I kept mixing feelings of inferiority, lagging behind, and responsibility in my heart, constantly thinking "I have to handle this much on my own," the option of asking for help never arose.
I hid my weakness and often deceived reality.
Saying "I'm fine" while pushing beyond my limits. Pretending to have leeway when I had none. Pretending to understand when I didn't. But that wasn't strength; it might have just been "making my weakness harder to see."
I thought weakness was something I shouldn't have. But in truth, it might have been the inability to "share" my weakness that was driving me deeper into distress.
So, what exactly is "weakness"?
It is not immaturity. I currently believe it is "a human aspect that is simply imperfect."
However, disclosing this surely involves some fear, doesn't it?
The fear of "being judged." The prediction that showing weakness will lower my value in others' eyes silences me.
This fear isn't necessarily unfounded. Some people have indeed suffered losses by showing weakness. Those who were whispered about as "mentally weak." So it's natural to be afraid and cautious.
But if you could manage to disclose your weakness skillfully while working—wouldn't you find it much easier to move forward than you do now?
Once you can honestly share your state, others know "how to interact with you." They won't overstep or remain indifferent, making cooperation easier with appropriate distance.
Work (teams) function better when everyone's states are visible.
That said, those who disclose effectively aren't just spilling emotions. There is a method to how they share it. Who to tell, word choice, timing—these balances naturally align.
Conversely, those who struggle to disclose may not be "weak," but simply "don't know how to share."
Once the habit of self-disclosure is established, becoming "good at work" follows naturally as a learned behavior.
[→ [Continuation on note] To avoid depression and adjustment disorders—3 specific tips for smooth self-disclosure](https://note.com/tsumugi_utatabi/n/n77786cf90e38
