There is No Band-Aid For Happiness
Today’s point of gratitude is simple: I’m grateful for my current job. Of course, in order to understand why this job is a breath of fresh air, I have to go back and recount the road to getting there.
My first “real” (read: office) job was an interesting experience. I was good enough to be offered a promotion after 6 months (not taken, as the new position wasn’t a job I was interested in). One year after that, I was let go, seemingly out of nowhere. Being young, this really messed with my head.
My next job, on the surface, was a dream. And I excelled at it. One year, I received a raise when basically no one else got one, because I busted my ass and had earned it.
During one review, my boss told me I was indispensable. Hearing that really meant something. I was brought up to have a strong work ethic, and it seemed to be coming across.
After a few years, however, things plateaued and I got restless. I needed a change. One was handed to me in the form of a company restructuring.
This ended up being a band-aid for my unhappiness, which quickly fell off.
After the restructuring, nothing was the same. Similar work for a new brand meant that fractured parts of the job grew bigger, until they were unmanageable and unsalvageable.
Again, I was let go. Now I was 2 for 2. Work hard, get let go. No rhyme or reason. Just the way it is. Losing my job for the second time pushed my depression over the edge. It had been steadily building up over the years, but this was the turning point for when things got really bad. I felt really bad, all of the time.
No longer did I have a job to keep my mind off of the things I’d obsess about. Now, I could add “lack of a job” to that list. Losing a job is tough, but my weight-of-the-world attitude meant that I took it as a personal failure.
The simple act of losing my job was collected as evidence of me being a failure. Added to my ever-growing list, negativity was just pouring out, as I acted as my own worst enemy.
It was hard to explain back then – and writing it now feels odd because I finally understand it’s not true. But at the time, it was the truth. It was my truth.
How would we survive? How could I contribute without income coming in? How could I support my three dogs? Sometimes I’d even take it a step further: Can I do anything right? Can’t even keep a job. How long before I lose even more? These thoughts would spiral until everything just felt completely out of control.
I decided to take some time to figure out what I wanted to come next. Between my severance and my savings, I could afford to take a few months, and make a real plan. One that I had control over.
I had needed a break, and I was handed one. Now, I just needed to use the opportunity, instead of squander it.