Wow I survived (so far)

Wow, it's been roughly six weeks since my company closed and I am still alive. If you told me this 3 months ago, when I was flying cross country every week to drive some sales, I would not have believed you.

Heck, if I survived 6 weeks without a job, I can survive another, but I would really like to have meaningful employment in the next 30 days. Surprisingly, I have not felt more tired than these past 2 weeks when: a) I took the GMAT; b) I attended a wedding; and c) I hosted family members from Seattle, Jersey and DC for almost 2 weeks.

Now that there are no more distractions, I will move forward and sit on my desk looking for jobs for seven hours every day. God help me.

Man down

Times are hard but life goes on. That's what I keep on telling myself as I go through each day trying to get back on my feet again. It's so weird blurting it out: "get back on my feet again." It's as though someone had tripped me to the ground. I'm wounded, I think I broke my ankle and it hurts to even just think of getting up. But I have somewhere to go, so I have to get up, tough it up, and keep on walking. Even if it hurts.

It's weird how some days feel like almost exactly how I am describing it now.

In Seclusion

This is the time that distance myself from anything that could bring negative energy.

This is also the time that I am loosening up, so I invited friends to drink with me at home last Saturday. We finished one bottle of tequila and at least 2 six-packs. I had fun with friends but I didn't have fun dealing with the hangover. The last time I felt that bad was when I was 21, a very long time ago.

Prior to Saturday, I had been having trouble falling asleep and staying asleep. I would lie in bed for at least 2 hours, going over all my worries in my head. I would eventually fall asleep only to wake up 4 hours later sweating from a bad dream, then I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. I have tried meditation, prayers, exercise and Nyquils. I thought getting drunk would help me sleep but it didn't work, because Saturday night, I woke up at least 3 times, anxious and still drunk.

I realized the reason for all my anxiety was that I was overanalyzing this getting laid-off situation. I have not had time to stop and look at the bigger picture. So I decided I'll take it slowly. I'll be kinder to myself. I can only do as much as I can in one day anyway. I'll have brunch with my friends and listen to them. I'll set aside time each day for a conversation with God. I'll attend new gym classes. I'll pursue a hobby.

As I say these things that I will do, I couldn't help but think what I would have done if this happened 6 years ago. I would probably have drowned myself in alcohol like I did back then. Things have changed, I have changed. If I  survived those dark days, I surely can survive this new challenge.

Another lesson from this experience: Dark clouds come in our lives and shower us with rain, like tears falling from our eyes. When the terror and sorrow are over, the sky will look so much clearer and we'll realize, we have never been better. I'm not there yet but I know I will be.

Singing in my head

C'mon now, everyone falls down
Everyone crawls now and then
Then they get up again
You cry if you want to
That's what we all do
But if you think you'll never move on,
You're wrong, baby, wrong.

(Wrong, Baby, Wrong by Martina McBride)

I'm in the library trying to focus on my reading material. A good friend sent me a reassuring text message, then I realized how great it feels when the people who matter genuinely believe that you, of all people, will pull through this.

You Learn By Living

Since I found out that I was going to get laid off, I decided to find a book that will hold me steady during these uncertain times. I found not just a book, but an inspiration, in Eleanor Roosevelt's "You Learn By Living". I figured I'd read this book before her autobiography because it is, as described on the cover, "the distillation of Ms. Roosevelt's life experience."

I am over the shock of being jobless again. However, I still have not overcome the fear of uncertainty. Where does this experience lead? Where will it take me?

But as Ms. Roosevelt says, the process never ends until we die and ultimately, we are responsible for our own choices. Perhaps that's one of the things I need to learn from this whole ordeal. There is no such thing as a perfect and perfectly predictable life. We each have our own struggles and demons. We are all besieged with doubts, fears and misfortunes. To expect life to be seamless and free of problems is to expect the impossible. No one can ask to be exempted from reality and failure.

I remember my early 20s when I was going through a rough patch. It's no secret among my friends and family that back then, my life had spiraled downwards. Very slowly and painfully, I decided to pick myself back up and applied for a job in a magazine publisher. As I was waiting in the lobby for my interviewer, I came across a quote by Ayn Rand: "Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark. In the hopeless swamps of the not quite, the not yet, and the not at all, do not let the hero in your soul perish and leave only frustration for the life you deserved, but never have been able to reach. The world you desire can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours."

These words had such power on me back then as Ms. Roosevelt's lessons do now. It was my fault that I have allowed my fire to go out. In my early 20s, I allowed that to happen by hurting people who cared for me. I was obsessed with fun and parties. I was obsessed with myself. This time, my mistake was, I was obsessed with my job, that when I lost it, I was decentralized.

Ms. Roosevelt is teaching me that I have to open my mind to life's lessons. Life doesn't ever stop, it just keeps on turning. A stumbling block like getting laid off, is not a stop, but a turning point.

Grief

I am going through grief. Even though I have no experience of losing someone close to me, thank God, I do feel that something has been taken away from me.

Over the past few days, I've been telling myself I have to take the emotion out of this whole experience. Yet, a job loss is a loss, nonetheless. And every loss has to be processed emotionally before we can move on. A job is a livelihood, a means of living, a way to provide for those who depend on us. It is not simply something you wake up for in the morning, do eight hours a day, and escape from at night. Thus, I have to process my emotions and face them, something that I've always been terrified of.

How one processes the grief of a job loss, I do not know. I wish someone would just tell me because I am exhausted to pieces. Like many unemployed Americans, I lie awake in the middle of the night fighting confusion and hysteria in my brain. All I know is that, I cannot survive this without my family and friends, who have shown such exceptional support in the past days.

So the FedEx trucked pulled up ....

...  and delivered my final checks and my severance agreement. Believe me, it was not without drama to get these from my soon-to-be previous employers. My brave soon-to-be boss was kind enough to personally deliver these to the local FedEx so I could receive these today. (Or checks will bounce, for sure).

Ah, the final checks. The final, final mark of goodbye from Company P.

What will I do on Monday? What does a workaholic do when he/she is unemployed? Of course, I'll be looking for jobs. In fact, I have two interviews next week .... but my God, how can I breathe easily when I don't have my computer in front of me?

What's next?

It's been less than five minutes since I posted my opening blog. Ain't I annoying?

I still don't know what my next steps will be. I am currently in Chicago while my husband is working in middle-of-nowhere Texas. We have been relocated to Texas a few years back (thus the move to my work-from-home job), and  it is possible we're staying there for a year or so more. We planned that I would stay in Chicago in the spring and then go back to Texas in the summer. However, with this new situation, such plans will probably change. Some options:

- Work as a temp while looking for a full-time work-from-home job
- Work full-time here in Chicago while looking for a full-time work-from-home job
- Move back to Texas in the summer as planned and rely on unemployment while looking for a full-time work-from-home job or a job near our place.

See, I have to be able to work from home or find a job in middle-of-nowhere Texas. I came to this country to be with my husband and that's what I intend to do, God help me.

I am still trying to figure out what is the purpose of all these events. It is still early to find out, but my only prayer is that God will keep us strong. May He remind me and my husband of our strength, and how we have survived the worst of times. May He keep us informed in our decision-making. May He give our families good health. May He keep us faithful of Him and of the future.

Girl, jobless

I remember when I first came to this country as a permanent resident, I was crying every day from missing my family and friends back home in Manila. I was educated, motivated, experienced, but jobless and therefore, miserable. That's just who I am, I cannot NOT move, cannot NOT function, cannot NOT have a use.

It was a dark period of my life. I had such an image of living in America where I would buy a house, go to the office every day, have my assistant open my mail, get paid every two weeks and get a promotion every year. But I came here when the real-estate bubble was at the cusp of bursting. Everyone was feeling the tension. Everyone could see the looming darkness and the lightning that came from afar. Most American companies, with whatever sense was left in them, ran for shelter and closed their doors for new hires. So I, along with millions of other jobseekers, was left outdoors, terrified of the coming storm.

It took me four months before I could find a part-time, retail job. Then a month after starting this job, I worked as a temp. I was let go two months later, but thankfully, I still had my part-time job. A month later, I landed as a sales assistant to a book publisher. Yes, I was the assistant in my American dream. Nothing wrong there, I loved that job, but it wasn't how my dream was supposed to be narrated. So, I vowed that I will work my way up and I did. Four months later, I was overseeing three of the company's top five accounts and I had left my part-time job. At this time, the bubble had burst, the storm has landed and was not about to leave anytime soon. I had found myself a shelter during the storm.

A year and a half later, circumstances have changed in my family. We needed to relocate for a better, more secure future. So, I looked for a job that allowed me to work from home and I found it in a matter of months. I realize I was very, very fortunate.  I was earning more, working from home, traveling around the country, getting along with my boss and receiving hefty bonuses. The job (actually, the company), had a number of loose screws, but hey, which job doesn't? I was going to stick to my guns and stay here until I find a better opportunity while working from home.

It turns out that the screws were too loose to hold the company together. Tomorrow, almost two years after joining this company, I will find myself as one of the 15 million Americans who are unemployed. Our company is closing its doors, that's all we were told about the closure.

It's a very hard predicament to be in. I am still fortunate compared to others, thank God, that I have a support system. However, one cannot take away the panic and the fear of the unknown. Oddly, I find myself in the same emotional situation I was in when I first came to this country, only this time, I have more to lose. I have a family now, a home, car to pay for. Numbers show the economy is slowly picking up. But for the unemployed, it is just picking up too slowly.

I have to take the emotional aspect out of the equation. I have cried far too many times and it's not helping anyone. Psychologically, I get rattled every now and then. But I have to clear my mind completely and look at our new situation from a more mature perspective. I have to believe that there is a light at the end of this long, dark, narrow and stinky tunnel. And, according to Eleanor Roosevelt, I have to "do the thing you think you cannot do."

Can I survive this?