I almost said state of Apathy, but it sounded to strong a word for me, no matter they mean the same thing I suppose.
My head isn’t screwed on straight. I can feel it sort of wobbling on my shoulders. It’s loose, uneven and crooked and I can’t find the tethers. I think they rusted and broke off.
This place I’m in has broad effects. I can’t write. (Though I forcing myself to get some of these thoughts out of my mostly empty head and onto paper). I can’t concentrate. I exhibit some of my worst personal behaviors. I swing through a fog of mania and almost-but-not quite-depression (and believe me, I know this is NOT depression).
I’m just in-between.
It feels too long now, 2 months out of work, and a minimum of 2 months more ahead. My sense of purpose has diminished. I don’t know who I am or where I am going and it’s so terribly hard to see ahead. My vision is blurry at best and I can’t find my glasses.
Strangely, I am not afraid. I know things will set themselves straight. I am a believer in the universe righting itself. I’ve been through so much in the past 8 months of my life I must believe there is something better waiting for me around the corner.
How long can I last believing this if it doesn’t actually happen? A few more months?
I feel proud and disingenuine to say I feel I need a “break.” People always have it worse than me. But there is this small voice inside of me saying: you really do deserve a break for once, you’ve had it pretty rough, even if you have come out relatively unscathed.
A friend and I went to an outplacement service on Monday and then out for drinks (of course we did). We had met a third coworker we didn’t know at the outplacement orientation and this poor woman was significantly depressed. Have you ever met someone so depressed that you wanted to run away from them as fast as possible because if they touched you, then you might catch it? It was that bad. I felt awful for this woman. Awful that I could do nothing to help her other than to be polite and listen, offer some advice, and be gracious. Awful that I wanted to get away from her. Awful that we didn’t include her in the drinks afterwards (obviously not awful enough, because we didn’t). I felt dirty after speaking to her.
Walking away from her, my friend and I were discussing how we never got to that place. We never hit rock bottom. In a leadership course I once took, we would call that place the “Pit of Despair.” It’s the lowest level on the “Mood Elevator” and certainly not where anyone wants to be. I have learned, through the course of my life and particularly from leadership training in my career, that when I get to the pit of despair, the best thing I could do was set up a beach chair, umbrella and have some cocktails, because I might as well embrace the place I am in. Not to say enjoy it, but why fight a (hopefully) temporary state of mind?
But that’s me, ever optimistic for the most part. Glass mostly full type of person. This poor woman was not that type of person normally, I suspect.
Should I have hit rock bottom after losing my job? Should I be more worried and feeling differently than I do? Should I be doing more to ensure I get into a job as soon as possible? Or is it all ok to just take a break from life, be ridiculous for a while, knowing that whatever step I take next is likely to be a tough one for any number of reasons.
I’m in a fugue state for sure. I hope I don’t stay here for long because it feels like I can get lost in the dark. It’s a little bit too comfortable for me. The days and weeks are slipping by. Will I look back on this time and be sorry I wasted it?
I have no idea. I wish I cared more about it.
Possibly contrary to the mood articulated above, I have little to no downtime. I am more busy than ever. I fill my social calendar to overflowing and have chosen to embrace this stay-at-home-mother routine for all it’s worth, while I have it. Thankfully, I have already had a sincere impact on my middle guy, my toughest kiddo, because I “make foods he likes.” Go figure. Hey, it’s a small win, but I will take it all the same. (and by the way, I just asked him what he would like to have for dinner and he smiled and told me we could order in so I didn’t have to cook!)
So much has been going on that I want to write about and can’t seem to put the words in any coherent form. Dating happens: Bennett and I have something going, I have been on a date or two, both Denver and Boston have stayed in touch with the promise of seeing me again (and some good phone sex). Career stuff is slowly rolling: I’m working with the career outplacement center, interviewing and sharpening the skills I need, including the resume, to get into my next role. Friends are aplenty and I’m spending time with lots of people I love and adore. I even made a new friend, thanks to ASV. My gym routine is solid and intact and my trainer kicks my ass. I am going into detox for 3 weeks before the kids and I take our California tour.
This is why it’s so hard for me to understand myself, and why I still feel so ambivalent. I’m not sure I have ever felt so quite without purpose…my life has mostly followed the path I set, for better or worse, I achieved many goals and dreams over the past 46 years. Trying to figure out what to do next to secure our future perhaps is almost too daunting to actually grab on to, maybe I am avoiding it after all. I’m not sure.
Conversely, I have these strange moments of strength and peace. Belief that I have a solid foundation. Even a belief that soon the right man will come into my life because I’m almost ready.
I am sure that I will be ok.
Oh, And that I need to go catch that Pokemon before he gets away.