There’s something that I can reveal about being a semi writer, a true struggle to some extent. Oh mind you it’s not a terribly big secret but I’m going to treat it as one just because. So here goes: writers often lose their mojo and it’s a tragedy.
Yes, so as you see I’m writing. Something.
Since my last blog, I can honestly admit that the words did
dry up. I found myself on so many
occasions staring at a blank screen which afforded so many possibilities and
yet…nothing. I struggled with questioning
myself as to how dedicated I was to my craft (at least I like to think of it as
such). How could I call myself a blogger
when I failed to post anything for months and months at a time? Where had the passion gone? Even when inspirational struck, I couldn’t
manage to get thoughts down. There was
no use. I had failed. I told myself this but then again after
reading the rest of this entry, you’ll know that this is something common I’ve
been feeling of late and precisely why.
So what’s kept me so preoccupied? What’s happened that has made those elusive
words escape me as I search high and low?
Besides the regular every day annoyances of life which everyone suffers,
what could possibly keep me away from the one thing that I’ve always felt most
at peace while doing? Well here’s a not
so hidden secret (another one, so bonus!):
I was laid off (again) back in September. Some of you out there will be nodding,
knowing already what has happened. Others
will be taken aback, surprised. These
will be those who are my Facebook friends.
And the last bit of you who only know me as the writer of this blog, you
may be shrugging and saying to yourself, ‘okay, and…?”.
But let me talk to those of you who haven’t ever gone through
a layoff, to those who have no clue what this particularly lovely experience is
like. Let me talk to you folks. Let me expose the quiet reality of it, in all
its psychological backlash-y ways.
Back in September, on a day that had gone down in infamy
anyhow, I was called into the HR admins office at about 3pmish (why does
everything nasty happy at 3? 3pm or 3am
doesn’t seem to matter) and told in a very comforting, calm and sympathetic
voice that I was no longer needed. My
position had been terminated (even though there were others in the same
position and they were clearly not being targeted). I was also told that I would get a nice
severance, and assistance to find a new job and…it was at about that point
where the buzz started in my inner ear. Her
voice sounded like the adults voices in The Peanuts…wohn wohn wohn… The buzzing was soft at first, slowly getting
louder and louder as she spoke. My mouth
had fallen open initially at one point, staying that way, possibly giving the
impression of a grade A idiot. Initially
whereas I stared at her with eyes large with shock, later those same eyes must
have strayed, unable to look at her any longer, focusing instead on the bottom
of the desk. There was a piece of dark
lint against the lightness of the carpet very close to the trashcan. I don’t know why I stared at that or even
remember it so very clearly. It’s funny
the small details we take as mental snapshots yet are completely befuddled by
what was being said or the more important words thrown at you.
I heard everything though, somehow maybe they sunk in
because they were ‘important’ yet still I had so much trouble really
focusing. Questions zipped about in my
cranium, what to do next, who to tell, how would I handle this, how would I say
goodbye...and she must have been clued into this because she kept asking me if
I was okay. She handed me a tissue
box. I didn’t know I had started to
cry. Or at least that tears were
slipping down my cheek. My Director, who
was also sitting there silently avoiding all eye contact, suddenly leapt up,
mumbled a ‘good luck’ and left. Nothing
more. This was the man who I had been so
close to, who had mentored me and I had consulted and even advised when he
asked. He said nothing. Ties broken.
After the door closed behind him, the HR person asked
softly, “you really had no idea this was coming?”
Lifting my head up to look at her was so hard….so very
hard. How I did it, I have yet to recall
but I managed to connect with her and say in the softest voice ever, “not at
all”, choking back a broken sob. I was
humiliated. Not tears. Not in front of this person. Not in the face of no reason for this abrupt
parting of ways. Not without any
answers, which I knew I wouldn’t get.
That fact was in her banal words of ‘economic decisions’ and a ‘bad year’. The tears may have been the reason for the
flash of something in her eyes, maybe heartburn/indigestion, who knows, before
it disappeared swiftly. I was glad. I didn’t need compassion from the very person
who had suddenly made me homeless. I
wanted to scream, shout, throw things, even threaten, but my professionalism held
me back. The tears had really been bad
enough. So instead I took a very shaky
breath, squared (no, really I did, snapshot) my shoulders and told my frantic
mind to shut up. After all, now I had
plenty of time to freak out at my own leisure.
Soon I was handed a packet, told to look through it, sign
the right forms and to return it as soon as possible. Then I knew what was next: The walk to collect my belongings with my own
personal escort.
It was a surreal experience to be treated like a criminal,
one that had been tried and convicted without any form of defense. The halls of the office were eerily quiet,
everyone having been sequestered into one office while the deed was done. I had no chance to say goodbye, to hug those
who had been my partners in crime, to even act like I was brave or that
everything was okay. I was robbed.
The rest of that day was a blank. But I remember the tears. If truth be told, the last few months have
been blank as well, yet I assure you the tears have also dried up, much like
the words. It’s sad that I don’t know
what I do daily anymore. I send out
resumes, a lot of them, I am always interviewing here and there, I get my hopes
high and then they crash like water breaking on the surf. I have spent hours and hours taking courses
to brush up, supplement, educate, hoping that someone would take me in and give
me a new home. I ponder and muse, I
accuse myself, I talk to God, although that was something I did much more in the
beginning, not-so-much now. So many have
reached out from the company to talk, reassure, calm, assure some more. I’ve heard all sorts of things that range
from “what the hell happened” to “you were the best project manager here” but
not surprisingly I remained a quiet mess.
The doubt piled/piles. If I were
so damn good, then why was I laid off? The
questions…oh my but the questions were/is nonstop.
I didn’t give any of this away, I am proud to say, other
than to a select few. And what I mean by
that is talk about this new found status of my life. Even to them though I revealed my initial
shock, confusion, anger…then that too stopped.
I couldn’t stand to hear my own voice.
Have you ever had that happen?
When your own voice grates and irritates you to the point that you want
to hear it stop? Yea, well it’s not
pleasant. I found my mute. When friends would ask, my standard response
was “let’s talk about something better…”.
I meant it to some degree and to another I wanted to scream out that I
wasn’t okay and that this sucked. That I
was no longer a viable member of society.
I was, in reality, completely useless.
And that’s still how I feel.
Sometimes the deep sense of not belonging haunts me. I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I mean a
lot. If I said it healed me then I would
be lying blatantly. Time alone is a
mixed blessing. No matter the need to be
with people is overshadowed by the fact that I want the quiet so that I can
continue to belittle myself. I mean why
not admit this? After all that’s
precisely what’s happening.
A lot of you reading this last sentence are probably
flinching, feeling bad for me, thinking that someone should tell me not to do
this to myself, dare I say pity? Truth
be told, it’s okay. I am self-aware
enough that I can intellectualize that what was done to me, was a business
decision. I have little pride in my
abilities for the most part but when it comes to work ethics and a job well
done, well I am good at what I do.
Period. No one is going to take
that away from me, that’s for damn sure.
I also can comprehend that what I’m going through is not unique and that
eventually things will turn around. I
know that forever I will not feel this way and that I will find a job, indeed
soon enough I shall be bitching nonstop about the crazy work hours I must
suffer through. For now though, I need
to do this. I need to hit bottom with
nowhere else to go because at that point, I’ll have no other choice but to
start to rise again somehow. Okay, that
was mighty lyrical of me, right?
All I can tell you guys at this point is, don’t feel bad for
me. I’ve shared all because there maybe
someone who is going through a similar situation and feels this terrible sort
of solitude and worthlessness. To them,
I suppose this entry is to help understand that we all eventually face struggles
that bring us to our knees. I am not ‘glass
half full’ enough to say that life is still beautiful and you should count your
blessings and blah blah blah…I mean those are things that you should be doing
even when everything is going your way. I’m
not here to be your therapist, after all unless you want to wire me some
duckets and then heck, I’ll tell you whatever you would like to be told! What I will advise, however, is that you
realize that nothing is status quo.
Things eventually will change and you will look back upon the time of
your greatest struggles in astonishment and wonder how you got through it.
As for me? I’m
freakin’ lookin’ forward to that moment.
Yea, that’s what’s happening in my world. The silence is broken, the secret is out, my
behavior, who has detected a slight change, answered. Sorry for the suspense. I’ve long since realized that I’m the sort of
person who needs to deal with what’s going on with my life, really digest it,
before talking at any length regarding it or handling my feelings. This blog doesn’t mean though that I’m past
this particular low. Nope, I’m still
walking around with a dark cloud over my head specifically. If I laugh, then I thank God for that moment
because it is indeed rare.
Hopefully this is a breakthrough for me, posting this
blog. I can’t make promises but working
at the laptop and getting out these thoughts have been cathartic. I am recalling why I did this before and why
I may just do it again.
For now, good people, I wish you adieu.
