Permission to feel

Permission granted.  That is how I felt today, like I was finally giving myself permission to feel and be angry.  When I lost my job nine days ago, it was painted to me as a great opportunity that I wanted, which isn’t a lie, just on my own terms, and that I should move forward encouraged to follow my bliss.  There is so much more to my position being eliminated, but right now I want to focus on the after effects of being laid off.

Until today I have been positive, and forthcoming about looking forward to my future, as scary and unknown as it is.  What I didn’t think I was dealing with was sadness and anger, then I watched a show today where the main protagonist is trying to deal with a life changing situation and all of the obstacles that come with it.  It’s a comedy dealing with a sad and dark subject, but at one point he was given permission to be angry and I lost my composure and ugly cried.  It’s the first time in nine days I have allowed an ugly cry.

Don’t get me wrong, now that I have been forced into my bliss I am looking forward to seeing where it takes me, but let’s face it, people aren’t let go and given severance and given the opportunity because their company wants them to follow their bliss.  There was much more lying in the under-current of what wasn’t being said.  Now, just to clarify, the Queen Bee, I say this with love and respect, who let me go, I truly believe she fought for these things for me so I would be taken care of because she is a truly compassionate person, so I am not angry with her.  Not in the least bit. 

What I am angry at is that I wasn’t given a choice. I wasn’t given an option to forge my own path.  Now, those that know me, know this is actually really the way it probably had to happen, because I always let fear get in my way, and probably would have stayed at my job forever and just been miserable, but it’s going to take me a few more days to get to that understanding with myself, because today I am pissed off, sad, disappointed, and heart broken.  My coworkers were told they could not say goodbye to me, but fortunately my voice carries and as I was packing up my things people began to appear at my desk. Word of mouth got around and I was given a nice send off by just a handful of coworkers.

I guess what really hurt is that Thursday October morning I walked in, I was Mama Bear and her Den of cubs.  That’s what some of them referred to me as.  I was already given so much to do at work, on top of maintaining an office, so to say I was heartbroken when I was asked to leave, because my position was “eliminated” is an understatement.  I was floored and my depression immediately began knocking at my door again so of course I put on a smile and began to fake it until I could make it.

By the next day, my first day of following my bliss, I was forcing myself to always do the things I wanted to do, if I didn’t have to go to work everyday.  I thought that would help, but suppressing my feelings grew into old habits, and my frenemies called emotional eating and emotional spending showed up at my door and unwittingly I let them in.  I thought I was handling it until today when I ate three-quarters of a medium pizza.   I had been binging all weekend and turning a blind eye, because I didn’t want to admit I was messed up again. 

I went to take a nap to get away from my brain and as I was falling asleep all I could think about was how much I missed most  of the people I worked with.  Fifteen years wasn’t just tied to this office, memories were too.  So much happened during this time, both good and bad, and the office was where I shared proud moment, or looked for comfort.  This wasn’t just a job, some of these people felt like family and in a moment my family was gone.  Some of these people went through such dark times with me, including mourning one of our own. This job was more than just the place that paid my bills, it was a sanctuary of friends that became weaved in my life.  

I posted positive things, I tried to be positive and none of that was a lie, I was being positive.  When people asked how I was, I would tell them I was “hanging in there”, yet somehow I wouldn’t allow myself to completely believe this and because of that, it festered and built until it turned into two things I had complete control over.  For lack of a better term, I relapsed and let myself slip quietly into old patterns, part of me thinking it was because I could control it at any time and the other part of me not caring.

I have a dinged up mental health, it doesn’t make me a bad person, it just makes life a little harder sometimes and this life changing event in my life was just adding to my struggle.  As I write this, in the moment, I do know that my work life was a major contributor to my struggle with my depression.  My boss didn’t understand it, our HR department didn’t understand it, and my bosses boss didn’t understand it, and although I have nowhere to go tomorrow morning, as everyone else starts a new work week, I go into my week with the knowledge that I am finally dealing with that nagging emotion that has been clinging to me like a spider web that you walk through, only now I am able to brush the web off and keep walking knowing somehow, because of ME, I am going to be okay.

Life will throw us curveballs, but just keeping swinging until you hit that ball. Practice makes perfect and this time when I say I know I am going to be okay I say it with a clear heart, mind and spirit, because I am acknowledging the emotions I didn’t manage to begin with, because I really do know everything is going to be okay.   

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