The Saga Continues

Loosing ones job is one of life's most stressful events. My experience certainly was no exception. As I reread the last few posts here, I realize that they were written by a different me.  Thinking of this one in particular, I was at a point where I had to force myself to look toward the positive, to minimize the hardships of the present and forget much of the immediate past.  I was maybe, just barely, starting to see a glimpse of the possibilities of a new future and clinging to that feeble thought I managed to write a mostly positive post. The fact is, there was another monumental obstacle looming in my headlights.  By the time I wrote that post, it had already appeared on the horizon yet that fact was completely ignored by the me that was writing back then . . .

Making good use of the resources offered by my former employer, I started to submit a lot of quality applications to numerous organizations around the city.  I applied to any companies with IT openings, from corporate behemoths to mom and pops, mega hospitals and universities to clinics and elementary and middle schools. I even signed on with three or four staffing firms who each had a different focus in their client base. Every one of them received a specially tailored resume.  Finding a job is a full time job, and I made the most of it.

But life sucked. It started to get more and more difficult to get out of bed in the morning. When I did get up, it became a supreme challenge to keep on task, to keep checking for new job postings and submitting resumes. Hell, it was a huge victory to stay awake at all much of the time. To this day, I wonder how folks can be successful while working at home; for me home during "work" hours became a lonely, too quiet, temptation filled, overly comfortable cell. It took herculean effort just to make it through some days because my way of dealing with the stress was to sleep.  Depression is the name of the beast in this circumstance and to escape it I would succumb to the relative peacefulness of sleep.

Somehow I managed to forge ahead. I started to draw upon a source of inner strength that I didn't know I had.  It was not a surge of realization or a blast of renewed confidence or even a sense of impending doom that motivated me. But rather a slow, tentative building of resolve. A gradual growth of acceptance.  A well disguised building of character and wisdom - despite my tendency to wallow in self pity and victim-hood. The more I forged ahead, the more I realized that I was doing just about all someone in my position could do.

After several months I finally started to feel that maybe I was getting a little traction. It wasn't much, but was enough to help my motivation and to stave off despair. A couple staffing companies had interviewed me and felt that I had many skills they could market to employers. Paperwork was filled out and preparations were made for the jobs that would hopefully materialize. Temp jobs yes, but that means additional experience and often an offer of a full time position. But times being what they were, nothing much further happened....

At first I was sure I was hearing things. It sounded like a phone . . . my phone even. . . MY PHONE! It was RINGING!!! Leaping toward the suddenly useful device I managed to trip and nearly fall. By now the caller ID showed the name of one of the companies I had applied to and my breath caught . .  I forced a deep and I hoped calming breath and answered the phone as evenly as possible.  Would I be available for a pre-interview screening?  Yes . . .When? Now? Of course! Out of nowhere I was completely on my game; I was strangely at ease, I oozed confidence from every pore, my answers were all concise without being terse; To the point, while still touting my skills and accomplishments. Something had clicked and it was as if I had been asked to retell my favorite story... That 45 minute call bouyed my spirits all the way through the next too weeks when I got another call. This time it was for a real interview with the hiring manager. The next few days flew by, filled with many applications and additional conversations with the staffing companies.

The day of the interview arrived and I was ready and loaded for bear. I had on a brand new suit, every hair was perfect and my answers were well rehearsed. . . and the interview was a thing of miraculous awesomeness.  Like the phone interview before, I was owning this meeting with my potential boss and relishing the confidence and poise I was exhibiting despite the previous months of despair and self doubt I had endured. I can only assume that there was some divine intervention at play, because even multiple post interview critiques could not bring out anything I might have said or done wrong.  Things had finally turned around for me!

Seriously, things had really taken a turn for the better because now the staffing company believed they had an opening for me too!

Holly crap!

Months of nearly fruitless job hunting had suddenly offered up two promising job prospects, and now I was faced with an unthinkable dilemma: I actually had to choose between two jobs!

I was soon scheduled for another interview, this time with the Project Manager and Architect, and also was called in for final paperwork at the staffing company. But before I made it to either of those appointments I was to be hit with the biggest bombshell yet...

March Is Here

Well . . .   It's March again and all I can say is I have mixed emotions.

I turn 47 this month.

These past couple years, I've not really enjoyed my birthdays, but that isn't to say I've dreaded them either.  Instead they just sort of came and went without much thought one way or the other.  I guess that is to be expected given the circumstances. . .

But this year there is a different mix of feelings to deal with.  On the one hand I am getting ever closer to 50.  If you have never thought about what that means, think of it this way:  If you live to be 100, 50 means your life is half over. But many people don't live to be 100.  In my family, many of my parents siblings have managed to live into their 90s. Mostly those final years have been good years - so that's good...  But many others have struggled with illness and have left this world much earlier.  My own father died before he turned 70 . . .

On the other hand, I have a lot to be thankful for, and very much to be proud of as I reach my 47th birthday. I have a couple great kids who continue to do well and have a pretty good idea of what they want to do with their lives.  I have endured the monumental challenges that have tested my metle these last couple years and have found that I am stronger, more capable and more resiliant than I ever imagined. . .

And so I find that I am not really all that worried that I'm turning 47 in this month.  Yes, it makes me think from time to time about how much (or how little?) of life there might be left for me, but that only serves to remind me to live the best life I can now.  There is no time for worry or regrets. Worry only makes the hours drag by and amplifies the misery of every fretfull second.  Dwelling on regrets is a huge time waster and may dammage the spirit and confine me to less than my potential if I start to define myself by the mistakes of the past.

Better to remember the lessons I learned from my mistakes and, using that hard won wisdom, go with renewed confidence into the day

The Lemonade Turned out Sour

Wow!  What a whirlwind!  It seems inconceivable that nearly a year has passed since I last posted here.  Trust me when I say a lot has happened between then and now.  In fact that is an understatement of the highest order . . . There is so much to tell it is difficult to know where to start. So let me begin with this statement:

"It was a period of tremendous growth and learning for me."

Uh Oh!  If you have been around the block a few times, you probably recognize that sentence is often uttered by someone who has undergone a monumental hardship, great personal tragedy, or is referring to their childhood. Well I can tell you that all are true and I hope to share some of that stuff with you here.

But let me start here. A few minutes ago, as I was rereading my last few posts, it struck me that my blogging reflects something about me that has actually made the last several months more difficult to endure. I noticed what is probably painfully obvious to you - that as I was enduring a time of great adversity I didn't post anything here.  That is to say I didn't share with you what was going on with me; not in this forum - and what I realize now -  not with those people closest to me in real life either. I seemed to loose the desire, no - the ability - to share my thoughts and feelings when those thoughts were filled anxiety and anguish, when those feelings were of pain, or loss, or fear; times when I felt vulnerable or needy.  And that my friends is exactly what the problem was . . . is . . . well we'll see.

So . . . what's been going on with me then?  Well, I'll tell you . . .


Later!

Sorry.  It's getting late and I want to get a bike ride in without having to worry about it getting dark.  Oh, yeah - bicycling . .  one of the new, old things in my life.  I've loved to ride since I got my first hand-me-down Schwinn bike back in the 70s. It was left behind by some tenants when they moved out of my Aunt's rental house.  My dad had it fixed up and I learned to ride it out back of the gas station where he worked.  (I ran into a parked pickup showing off that I had finally learned how to balance the thing, but had not yet learned the importance of watching where one is going!) Cycling quickly became more than a fleeting passion and after a few years of saving up lawn mowing money I bought a really nice, lightweight bike and started riding many miles on the local bike trails and in organized rides.  Anyway, getting married and having kids meant moving and that turned out to be very bad for my bike riding passion.  It died.

Anyway, present circumstances have allowed me to revive that passion in a big way.

And that, my friends, is a teaser as to what future blog posts may bring!

Time To Make Lemonade!

Having never lost a job before I really had no idea what to expect after getting my "60 Days".  That's corporate speak for your job has been eliminated and we're giving you two months where we'll pay you to find a new one.  Anyway, I gladly spent most of the first two weeks of that time helping transition my various duties to those folks and groups who would assume them after I left.  I really wanted the folks I worked for to be taken care of - after all that is what I worked so hard to do every day for so many years! It was a convenient thing too, because It meant I could pretend things were relatively normal for a while longer.

But they were not.

Once I was no longer expected to appear in the office, I really started to feel like a fish out of water. It started to feel like a permanent hole had appeared in my gut. . . I stopped eating much, I lost weight. I withdrew from my family's activities, I slept a lot . .  A LOT!

My dear wife was quite understandably concerned about me. But I kept reassuring her that I was fine, and just needed to adjust to my situation, just needed some time to my self. . .

The highlights of my next few weeks were attending meetings with the career counselors and HR folks at my soon-to-be-ex employer.  I can say this much about the company - they do have an awesome set of resources in their HR staff.  They are wonderful folks; They genuinely cared about helping me prepare for the daunting task of job hunting and I am grateful for their help.

But after a while there were no more workshops to take, no more sage advice from folks who had "been there".  Even the mock interviews, reportedly handled like a pro, were behind me.  Time was running out . . .

I was left with just about nothing but the hole in my gut to keep me company.  It was unrelenting, unsympathetic, all consuming, and at times nearly unbearable. . . . I finally admitted to my wife how much pain I was in.  It surprised me how much it hurt, to be suddenly without that which had become so much a part of the fiber of who I was. I broke down and sobbed in her arms. It was such a release - Yet I immediately regretted appearing so weak to her. I'm supposed to be the man in the house!  I'm supposed to be strong! After that I retreated even further into my own personal purgatory - which of course was self defeating. I'm sure even as you read this you can visualize a swirling vortex, the spiraling down or spinning out of control that one so often hears about . . . 

So then many of you will recognize what I have just described as depression.  There is no other word for it.  And no adequate way to describe it, so I won't try - Those readers who have experienced it know, the rest of you should feel very lucky!!!.  Anyway, fortunately I recognized something was seriously wrong and reached out for help . . . And found it in the form of a therapist who made all the difference. (Again, my soon to be ex employer provided the salvation I needed in the form of free counseling services!)

I won't bore you with all the gory details, but I will say that the pivotal moment for me was when I learned that what I was experiencing was grief.  A part of me had died and I needed to let it go.  Funny, even though I have lost both my parents, I had never grieved so much before.  Sounds strange I know, but I lost my parents slowly to disease.  My father suffered a long decline due to Parkinson's disease. I got to say to him what I needed to before he passed, so it was more of a relief when his suffering was over. The same was mostly true of my mother.  She had cancer, so I knew what needed to be done; we had prepared for the inevitable. So even though she did pass unexpectedly quickly, It was not devastating. In fact it was a blessing that she didn't endure much pain or suffering.

Losing my job was like some powerful malevolent force had suddenly reached into my soul and ripped out a critical piece of my very being.  Indeed, it had . . .

These things I came to understand through sessions with the therapist.  It sounds cliche, but putting a name to it made all the difference.  I have long believed that one can not change what one does not acknowledge.  In this case acknowledgment took the form of understanding that I was experiencing grief of the highest order - and fortunately I knew how to deal with that!

I am so much stronger now.  I will never again define myself so much by what I do for a living.  This experience has brought into sharp focus just how important my family is to me.  How important my friends are to me.  And for the first time, how important I am to them . . . A worth that is not defined by a paycheck or the skills that earn it, but by the Husband, father, and friend I always was to those who love and care about me.

Lemonade anyone?

Eight Years Ago Today . . .

 . . .  need I say more?

Probably not, though I'm still surprised at the strength of the emotions that are evoked within me each year on this day. Eight years have not healed the wounds.  I have not forgotten . . .  nor do I think I ever will.

Life Doles Out The Sour Citrus

Well, here it is, the last day of August and I'm sitting in front of a monitor, fingers on keys typing away. Something I've done every day for years - a few months more than 20 years, in fact. Another typical Monday for a Married Father of two. Except the venue is different these days. Decidedly . . . homier . . . you could say.

Because, well, it is home after all.

And so in that respect everything is different about this Monday. In fact, just about everything has been different every day for the past 5 months.

It was on April 3 that things changed. Had I been more curious, I might have noticed that the meeting notice my manager had scheduled a few days prior was not quite in line with the usual meetings she scheduled with us. Longer, this one. Kinda had a vague-ish subject. And not back to back with similar meetings for the others on the team like usual. It was also scheduled in the cafeteria. It's not an unusual thing for meetings to be held there, except my manager was usually very good about finding appropriate meeting rooms . . .

I only recall a slight unease as I headed down the elevator and toward the seating area of the cafeteria. I'm sure I dismissed it as the typical twinge one feels when going to see one's supervisor one-on-one about something. See, I had just been given a raise not even a month prior. Even though the economy was tanking and Management had warned us that very few if any of us would get any raise at all - my manager was extremely pleased with me and my work performance and pulled all the strings she could to get me the maximum raise possible. She had even given me an important and challenging assignment for this year, proving her confidence in me and my ability to get the job done.

But then I caught sight of her and immediately sensed something. My smile sagged and my shoulders drooped a little. A few more steps closer and the alarm in my head started banging away at full alert. I could now see that her eyes were red as if she had been crying. This being completely out of character for my "no nonsense" boss, I was now quite shaken - Something serious was about to be related to me - My mind reeled with the possibilities . . . Was her team being disbanded? Had some or all of us been reassigned to other teams or duties? Had someone died? My thought in that instant though was that, whatever it was, I could handle it - there would be a change, but that's often a good thing . . . I had just gotten a raise . . .

Then she said something - we were going to another place so we stood up and she led the way. I remember a numbness; There was a soft buzzing sound and a vibration in my limbs. Through tunnel vision I saw people passing by in a slow motion blur. I have no idea if I was smiling or grimacing. Then, as if through thick, cold molasses the two letters naming our destination finally managed to push themselves into my consciousness: HR. We were going to HR! The alarm in my head flew from it's mount and exploded - and in a defensive spasm my thoughts were taken over with trying to think of anything I might have done to have gotten myself fired.

But before any concrete thoughts could come together in my head we arrived at a small meeting room in the HR office. The door was closed and I was being introduced to a younger man who, I noticed when I shook his hand, seemed to be much more nervous than I. He was shaking. Strangely, I was not. In fact I had suddenly grown very calm. Even as I was being told that I was being laid off, that my job had been eliminated due to market downturn and budgetary constraints, I was returning to a much more normal state of being. My normal senses returned, and I actually felt sorry for the two people now sitting facing me, their faces full of concern, sadness and regret. Sorry that they had to be the bearers of such unhappy tidings.

My first words at this news? "OH GREAT!"

Now, as I sit here in hindsight, I wish I had said something with much more force; Though I'm not sure that even the obvious "F-word" choice would have done justice to the event. . . For there was so much more I didn't know about what being laid off means.

News Flash! This Blog Is Not Dead . . .

Well, it has been a long time since I've managed to post something. And a lot has happened over the eight months since my last post - The most dramatic thing being that I was laid off in April.

I'll surely be able to get a few posts out of that, but a lot of other things have happened that are blog worthy too: Our beloved dog died. We managed to get a small vacation in. Both of our children have started a new phase in their education. A favorite Aunt passed away. I even managed to sign up for Facebook!

Look for my musings on these and other topics in the near future.