I'm glad you don't really know me yet. I'm currently a shell of my former self.
I was fired on Tuesday morning (it is now late on Thursday night), and I am miserable. I can't stand to be out of work, and I REALLY can't stand that it wasn't my choice. Now, try not to get the wrong impression... your mother is generally not the type to be fired from a job. In 11 years of working, this is the first time I've ever had to endure the embarrassment of being fired. I don't know that it's truly my fault... the company I was with had a super strict policy about mistakes... make one and you're gone. I made one. Plus, I had lost my place in the "cool kids" crowd at the office. I think that's really why I had to go. There were other employees who had made far larger mistakes more often but were still integral members of the company. I guess it's just dependent on who likes you. I can definitely be unlikeable. If you're reading this as a teenager, I'm sure you'll agree.
The problem is that I can't seem to get out of my funk. There's a huge weight on my chest that is keeping me down. Someone once told me that everybody has that one thing that can push them to the edge of their sanity. I guess being fired is mine. I haven't been eating much, which isn't good for you, my sleep habits have been super erratic and when I am conscious, I'm a total wreck. That's not to say that I spend most of my time crying, but I am having a constant internal war with myself. I just can't seem to separate myself from what happened. When I fall asleep, I dream that I'm back at work and nothing ever happened or that it was all a big joke. When I'm awake, I sometimes can't remember what happened in the real version. I've been stewing on every detail both consciously and unconsciously, and it's literally making me a crazy person.
The hardest part is that I was the main breadwinner in the family. Without my income, we won't be able to keep our apartment. I HAVE to find a new job quickly or we could be in serious trouble.
Matt doesn't seem worried, bless his heart. I'm sure that he is, but he's so good to keep it from me. He knows that I punish myself enough without any help. He's been an absolute rock for me. He's done the dishes, cleaned up and even got me to shower and put on something other than my sweatpants for an evening. The boy is a saint. Gosh, I love that kid.
I just hope something good will happen soon... before he has to check me into an insane asylum.
All my love,
Jill
