#6 Beneath the Surface

 

When I first moved to Toronto, I had no job. It was a massive risk coming to a new and expensive city without proper resources, and yet that is what I did. I’ve always been a risk-taker, and for the most part, I’ve been lucky enough that things have tended to work out okay. Shortly after I arrived to the city, I had an in-person interview that went quite well. The energy between me and the person who was to become my boss was very good, and despite the fact that I failed the local news test I was asked to take, I passed the grammar test just fine. Most importantly, I was told later, my responses to situational questions were good; apparently, I had sound journalistic instincts.

I enjoyed my new job. I was thrust into the North American, Canadian, Ontarian, Torontonian news cycle, and I caught up with the goings on pretty quickly. The learning curve was steep, but I always loved a challenge. Additionally, I worked with many different, and young, personalities. In fact, I was one of the oldest hires on our team. Most of my colleagues were in their mid-twenties; only a few of us were in our mid- to late-thirties. The mix of age and experience was healthy for that work environment, and I loved meeting all kinds of people. Though the work was very fast-paced, and we coordinated with other teams that were off-site, we still found ways to make our time during those stressful shifts as enjoyable as possible.

One of the colleagues who was closer to my age group was Nathan. He and I didn’t have a lot of contact with each other, as he tended to work on the sports desk, but he seemed nice. I had gotten a fairly good sense of my other colleagues, but he was one of a few I hadn’t had much time to interact with. Still, I had never seen him be anything but kind toward others, and when I did hear him speak up, it was usually during some kind of discussion about sports. He seemed really in the know on that subject.

One evening, during our regular rush to get things out before deadline, each of us was focused on our computers or bent over printed pages when a loud bang resonated throughout the newsroom.

Everyone looked up at once, startled by the noise. Nathan had slammed his hands down on his desk and proceeded to push back from his computer, grabbing his iced coffee in the process. He then walked quickly to the stairwell door, opened it, and disappeared behind it. The office was silent in his wake. My colleagues and I looked at each other in confusion. I had never seen Nathan behave in this way; he had always seemed so quiet and even-keeled.

Then, from behind the stairwell door, came an even louder and more alarming bang.

I immediately pushed back from my desk and got up to go after Nathan. I wanted to see if he was okay. Everyone else stayed in their seats.

When I opened the door, I was relieved to see that Nathan seemed to be in one piece. I glanced down the stairwell and did a double take when I saw the remnants of his fancy iced coffee splashed down the stairs and on the walls. The lid must have come off the drink mid-way through the air because there was now a sticky mess on at least half of the steps. I couldn’t quite figure out how the noise had managed to be so loud given such a small projectile, but that was beside the point.

I turned to Nathan, and the first thing I asked was, “Are you okay?”

He nodded, then apologized and said he was frustrated and angry.

“I can understand that,” I said in response, “but I don’t think this is really the right way to express that. It’s not really an appropriate thing to do here. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the bosses, you know?”

He apologized again for his outburst, but I was more concerned about whether he was still feeling frazzled. His anger or frustration seemed to have drained from him, and I was reassured that he seemed calmer. I told him I was going back to the newsroom, and that he could return when he felt better.

I walked back into the newsroom. Everyone looked up and over at me. I gave a little nod and said, “He’s okay.”

When Nathan stepped into the room a minute or two later, he sat back down at his desk and continued to work. We never spoke of the incident again.

 

Nearly ten years have gone by since that incident, and I’ve often wondered if I handled things properly. Did Nathan think I overstepped in going to speak with him, or did he appreciate my coming to see him? Was I too harsh in telling him his behaviour was inappropriate? How did he remember that night, and what was his takeaway from our interaction?

A couple of months ago, I decided to ask him rather than wonder for the rest of my life. We set up a video call and spent a bit of time catching up on each other’s lives. It was nice to chat like that after a few years of little contact.

Eventually, I asked him how he viewed that long-ago incident. I wanted to know how he felt about my intervention and whether he thought it had been appropriate. I was worried that I had inadvertently imposed my thoughts and perspectives on him, leaving a negative impression. After all, I didn’t know what he’d been going through at the time.

He said, “I was grateful that someone came to talk with me. It felt like true support.”

I was relieved. I had been afraid that I had come off as condescending when that had really not been my intention.

Here’s what I keep learning about providing support or extending compassion: There is no single correct way to approach things every time. Each scenario is unique, and what is good in one situation may not be good in another. Each person brings their own story to the equation, and therefore you can never know for sure whether your actions or words are received in the way in which you intend. You can only hope that you are approaching things with as much respect and decency as possible.

As we spoke that day, I asked him whether he could provide some context for that night in the newsroom. He was wonderfully open, vulnerable and transparent with me, and he gave me permission to share his story with you.

Ten years ago, unbeknownst to me, Nathan was dealing with a series of stressors. He told me how he’s struggled with general anxiety, social anxiety and depression since he was little. Back when he was a kid, they didn’t have names for many mental health conditions, particularly the different anxiety disorders. And when we were growing up in the 80s, the word “depression” was pretty taboo. No one would ever admit to living with it. Hell, it’s still quite the stigmatized word today, though younger generations have started to normalize speaking about it.

I asked Nathan to explain the difference between general and social anxiety. He said general anxiety revolves around the constant worry about everything. Doomscrolling is a common example. What it boils down to is this: Believing that everything can go wrong or that many things are already wrong can paralyze someone, making it difficult to live a happy and balanced life.

Social anxiety, on the other hand, is more context specific. Nathan said that being afraid of rejection in social contexts is a common symptom. For example, he avoided asking girls to prom when he was younger because of a strong fear of rejection. That fear can manifest in multiple ways throughout your life, making your world smaller because you avoid doing things that can result in rejection.

So, to recap, Nathan was dealing with general anxiety, social anxiety and depression. Though he was on medication, he said the medical community has yet to develop good drugs to treat anxiety. As a result, he’s had to find other coping mechanisms to supplement the medication.

When Nathan started working at our office, he had just moved from Ottawa. He’d had a happy life there, so being forced to start over in a new city brought with it its own challenges. Those challenges included learning a new job, working with new co-workers, finding a new home, and having to make new friends. While that is challenging for anyone, when you add the mental health conditions to the equation, you’re dealing with a boatload of stressors.

 

On the night of the outburst, Nathan had given in his work to the remote team, and they had bungled something on their end. Rather than take responsibility for that, they directed their lack of knowledge in his direction. Nathan became increasingly frustrated with their asks and the fact that they didn’t seem to know what they were doing. What was more frustrating was that they were the ones making the bigger bucks.

One of the things I appreciated most about Nathan’s retelling of that day was that he admitted ego was a factor in his reaction to the team. Not many people would volunteer that information. It stuck in his craw that he was more knowledgeable about the work, yet he was getting paid less. He felt unappreciated and frustrated with things as they stood, and he needed to let out that frustration. He also knew, however, that he couldn’t let off steam at his desk, with everyone around. So, he tried his best to hold out until he was alone, launching that coffee down the stairwell as a way to release the pressure within him.

Nathan knows now, just as he knew then, that his behaviour was toxic. But he hasn’t just wallowed in that mindset and let those issues consume him. He’s been active in his mental health journey ever since, seeking appropriate mental health support within a year of moving to Toronto. Additionally, in 2024, he participated in the Ontario Structured Psychotherapy Program. This publicly funded program lasts sixteen weeks and is geared toward helping people in Ontario who are struggling with anxiety and depression.

During the course of our chat, Nathan and I spoke about our experiences working in different offices. Unfortunately, there are still many work places that are unhealthy, where the culture doesn’t promote the kind of atmosphere that would encourage people to do their very best. This is part of the reason I decided to venture out on my own, despite the challenges freelancing presents.

While Nathan admitted that his outburst that day at our newsroom was not the first time he’d done something like that, we both acknowledged the following :

“bad” behaviour ≠ “bad” person.

That event that night was the unfortunate reaction to stressors that had piled one on top of the other. It didn’t lessen his contribution to the newsroom. He was still just as talented and valuable to the team. He just needed support with his mental health that he hadn’t had a chance to access yet.

He told me that over the years he’s had a lot of compassionate responses from bosses and co-workers. For that, he is grateful. To me, it shows that there are still many good people out there who are willing to look beneath the surface, who are able to see the nuances of who we are. When we acknowledge the nuances in people, and their behaviours, we are showing compassion.

Thích Nhất Hạnh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk and activist, once said:

If you have the chance to be exposed to a loving, understanding environment where the seed of compassion, of lovingkindness, can be watered every day, then you become a more loving person.

His words resonate with me. It is not impossible to cultivate compassion in a negative environment, but it is much more difficult. When you have an environment that is supportive, loving and understanding, however, becoming more loving is almost an inevitability. And I believe that when you’re more loving, you can be more compassionate as well. As I have previously mentioned, compassion is like a muscle. You can build it and make it stronger if you put in the work.

I think it’s fairly well accepted that a positive environment will reap positive results. Happy people will usually produce work with more enthusiasm, dedication and passion. In a toxic environment, stress, strain and negativity will make it difficult to thrive. Add to that hostility or a lack of understanding, and it is nearly impossible to get positive results.

When I reflect on that night in the newsroom so many years ago, I realize that Nathan was teaching me, though I don’t think either of us saw it that way at the time. He inadvertently presented me with a scenario that called for compassion, and I decided to try my hand. Though I think I would be more delicate in the way I spoke to someone in that kind of situation today, I’m still glad that I chose to flex that compassion muscle then, build it up and make it stronger for the years to come.

I’m also glad I could provide some support to him in his time of need. I would have wanted the same had I been in his position.

As the famous adage goes:

No man is an island.

Thank God for that.

Until next time.

 

P.S. I want to thank Nathan for letting me tell this small part of his story. I appreciate your willingness to help other people learn more about what could be going on beneath the surface in the workplace. People like you help us learn how to listen better and provide better support.

If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health, there are resources out there that can help. You don’t have to do it all by yourself. Most of all, there are many people who want to show you they care. Let them. Accept help where you can.

Here is more information about the Ontario Structured Psychotherapy Program.

Anxiety Canada is a charity that offers free support as well.

988 is a crisis hotline that provides a safe space to talk at any time of the day or night.

The Government of Canada provides links to mental health support available across the country.