I am still reeling a bit from the news. I keep thinking, “How long did they know?”
“Did they know when I was giving my presentation?”
“Did they know when he sent me that email?”
“Did they know in the days that followed?”
And then it twists and my pondering gets ugly. Angry.
“Did they listen down the hall?”
“Did they know before me?”
“Do they feel bad?”
I mean it’s ridiculous. The decision was made based on certain immutable facts. I have no business feeling resentment toward people that were not involved, or who at least had no say in the matter. But then the wicked side of me chirps, “Are you sure? Are you sure they didn’t throw your name out to save their own hides?”
I want to shake it. I don’t want to be angry, don’t want to be afraid. And yet here I sit, angry and afraid. The emotional pendulum rages and I find myself weary from the force of it all. The truth is I would do it all for free. I want to help and be of service. I want to belong to this place that I have known for five years, but I don’t. I am no longer a part of the team and my way of mourning that seems to be through spite.
I cannot see my way past what feels like betrayal. I am numb. I am waiting and hoping that this fury and despair will fade.
I refuse to end this without light, for despite the clamorous emotions over what has happened, I am surrounded by good. Sean takes my anger, weathers my inexplicable melt-downs about this thing or that as I struggle to come to grips with having something be beyond my control.
The girls are here, demanding and delighting. My temper can run short, but I have found new depths for just tethering myself to their joyous will— bubbles, gardening, walking, reading, spinning til we fall.
I am healthy.
I have friends.
I am gingerly finding my way.
..and be good to yourself. Acceptance takes time.
I'm sorry –
Pulling for you.
you are loved, so very loved
I guess all this is one reason why I'm glad this was a seniority issue for me and nothing else; they had to cut x number of people, and my name was x-4 from the bottom. So there ya go.
In your case, yeah, I imagine the resentment is weighting heavy. Five years of dedication is a long time, and to be told that, well, we like having you around, but simply can't anymore, even as others stay . . . ugh!
Be thankful every minute of the day that Sean is still working. For us, there has always been just me. And now, there's not even that. I picked a fine time to quit smoking, no?
Love you, Amanda. And I'm pulling for you and yours to make it through this . . .
My husband lost his job four years ago and, while we knew it was going to happen, we were still devastated and scared. It took us a while to get used to the situation but, in the end, it was the best thing that could have happened to us. It forced our family into a situation we NEVER would have chosen for ourselves that has proven to be really wonderful. Hang in there! One door may have shut, but you'll find the open window soon.
Oh mamma I would be doing the same thing. I am the queen of playing out things in my head. Things that most likely didn't happen and will never happen but I still get all worked up about.
I think you are just going to have to get a little Zen and live in the moment. It is the only way to knock yourself out of it. Plus, you have a pretty happy "right now" at home so focus on what you know to be true. (I know, easier said than done)
I think what you're feeling is completely normal and natural… I'm sure I'd be feeling all those things, too.
You're going to be Ok, Mama! Better than Ok!
You know the old saying, one door closes and another opens. Or in your case I'm sure three will open before you have time to ponder.
If all else fails, spin.
It's okay to be angry. It's normal. It's a grieving process, no matter how much you try to temper it. And I'll tell you what you've told me countless times before: be gentle on yourself. You're amazingly brave and strong, but even strong people have to feel the ground to pick themselves back up again. x
I think you're entitled to the anger, frustration and whatever else you feel, it would be abnormal if you didn't have those feelings after five years.
Did you ever have those days when you wanted to quit, right then and there? Or secretly hoped that maybe you'd get laid off so you can spend more time with your kids? (I know I have!). Maybe you can pretend like this is exactly what you wanted and then you'll make something entirely amazing out of this whole situation!
There aren't any words, actually. Not the ones that truly sooth and assuage.
You are doing well to seek the positive, and to find beauty and light.
It is a messy journey – and my belief in anything is tethered to the notion that good HAS to come of bad. Best when you can find the good in the moment, and not wait for retrospection.
I will, also, be back.
Thanks everyone. The anger and hurt come in waves. It's like a life dump. Off to Rotary now to drum up business and work the smile. WIsh me luck.
Just stumbled on this post today – it hit me in a soft spot because it feels so like the “Some days I feel covered in ick” post I wrote this week.
It’s hard to feel misunderstood.
It’s hard to feel like you don’t fit.
And it’s especially hard not to wonder what everyone around you is thinking.
I hope this story had a happy ending, even if it wasn’t the one you would have expected.