job? what job?

I almost lost my job this week. After two months of doing a fantastic job, if i might say so myself, with the tiniest residents of new mexico, I was almost terminated (I hate that word… it makes me think that former-governor ahhhhnold will come flying around the corner and break me) due to insufferable amounts of bureaucracy and redtape. Ugh. I can talk about it now, because it didn’t happen, but I came pretty close. So close that I started considering my budget on unemployment and cobra. What a terrifying feeling, to realize that I moved two thousand miles across the country to start a new life, and a new job, and have it come thiiiiiis close to being ripped away.

It all comes down to bureaucractic nonsense, friends. One job title in new york is sufficient to do a certain job but not another job, and another title in new mexico is sufficient to do a different job but not the first. Confused yet? I certainly was and still am. My head was spinning so hard and fast it nearly popped off. But all I know is that after being hired and employed for sixty days as a school counselor in the state of new mexico, on Friday I was unceremoniously told that I was not qualified for said job and that if “we” (more like andie and andie alone without any help from anyone) did not find a resolution to this problem, I would be unemployed, post haste. There I sat, bewildered and teary-eyed as this bomb was dropped on me. Happy Friday. Have a nice weekend. Following this delightful conversation Andiepants went on a crazy rollercoaster of emotion for the next five days, chock full of meetings with HR, researching other options, crying, meeting with my principals, crying, trying not to think about it, more meetings with HR, more crying, meetings with other employees and counselors, and of course, more crying, etc.

I’d prefer not to write about the details of the almost job loss, so as not to bore you with the mundane, confusing and endless torrent of unneeded bureaucracy that is the public education department. Suffice to say that my struggle is over, a resolution has been found, and andiepants will remain employed with her tiny humans at least until the end of the year. What I’d like to write about is the feelings and realizations that occurred to me during this emotional tornado.

Jobs. How much we let them define us….Supply us with our identities…..Become our whole lives…. Take over our entire personalities until we are extensions of our profession. Most people can’t even answer the question “who are you” without mentioning or relying on their employment… “I’m a lawyer, a doctor, a social worker, a lion tamer..” insert profession here. Somehow it went from “what have you chosen as the way in which you will make money, what skill have you chosen to hone to supply your income, what do you enjoy enough to go and do for eight hours a day” to “who are you”, implying that if you lost that employment as a doctor, lawyer, astronaut, telemarketer, etc, you would somehow cease to exist. That with the elimination of your nine to five, your identity, sense of self, would crumble. And at first, that is exactly what I felt, when I received this news that my employment was in serious jeopardy. I thought to myself “what will I do? Where will I go? Who will I be?” as if the removal of my school counseling job would pull the proverbial pin on my psychic grenade somewhere in my soul and andie would implode. Ka-boom.

I slipped into a deep state of panic and self-pity. Friday was a very bleak day for me, full of a river full of tears, and many invitations for suffering. “why me” was echoing through my head like teenagers yelling expletives at the grand canyon.

And it seemed as though I went through the stages of grief. Any of you who are in the psych/social work/teaching fields, might know of Kubler-Ross’ five stages of grief. Denial was first, as it typically is, the brain fighting tooth and nail against accepting whatever unpleasant news that has just invaded its squishy territory. “Am I sure that this isn’t a bad dream? This can’t be happening. This definitely isn’t happening.” After I had my despairing, tear filled afternoon, the anger set in. How could they do this to me? After sixty days? Now they want to tell me I’m not qualified? I moved across the country and left my old job! I stomped around the apartment, fuming with resentment and bitterness. I furiously cleaned my apartment, raging against the laundry and attacking the floor with the broom.

Next came bargaining… “maybe they’ll let me keep my job until fall break… until Christmas break…. Maybe I can work part time.”… bargaining is such a humbling process. I realize now that I was in such a state of panic, fear, shame, etc, that I would have in that moment accepted far less than what I deserve or am capable of. Then we went back to depression and there were more tears. So many tears that Mike informed me that I had used my tear quota until approximately 2015 (the jokes on him, friends, because I have lots more where they came from, this well runs deep). It felt like I was drowning in shame and fear; shame because somewhere, some little part of me felt like this was my fault, that I had made an error that had caused this situation, and fear of the unknown, of what I was going to do to resolve this situation, or if it couldn’t be resolved, what I would do for employment, money, enjoyment, identity, etc…

And then finally, acceptance. Oh, acceptance. Such a beautiful thing when we can really grasp how its done but so hard to come to. And the only way I was able to come to this peaceful place was to determine and recognize what I could and could not change or control. I resolved to do everything I could about this mess, to tenaciously fight for my job as much as I could, and let go of the rest. Several things happened to get me to this place of acceptance. First, I made a step by step battle plan (and here andies ocd rears its head again, my outline was grammatically perfect, with bullets, different fonts and formats for the different sections of my arguments, and a lovely conclusion that I probably could have used in court) that I could do to fight this decision. I made a list of people to talk to and things to say. Organizing my thoughts and actions in this way made me feel like I had more control over the situation and that this was not happening TO me, but that I was a part of it.

Second, I got out and did things. Fun things. Mike and I have a running joke that whenever I get sad or upset and feel the urge to throw myself dramatically on our bed, curl into the fetal position and cry, he presents an activity for us to do “that would be more fun than crying in bed.” I typically relent, accompany Mike on whatever activity we’ve chosen and remark later that “it was fun and all, but not as fun as crying in bed.” My super fun Halloween at White Sands came into being in large part because of this mess concerning my job. My beloved almost-husband knew that if given the opportunity, I would just sit around the apartment and obsess. So he forced me (and yes I did fight him on this) to go out and have fun and forget about it for a little while. And white Sands was a perfect activity to do in the face of this mess, because it really put things in perspective. Here I was, frolicking around one of nature’s most beautiful and largest displays of natural grandeur and I’m worrying about a job? I had to reevaluate.

Lastly, and most importantly, I divorced my identity from my employment. No matter who I am employed with, no matter what I’m doing, no matter if I’m a phd teaching college psychology, or a super cute garbage lady slinging bags, I am andiepants, in all my silly, slightly neurotic, compassionate, funny, ambitious, motivated, loving, sometimes jealous, anxious, and overly cautious glory. And nothing can take that away from me. Ever. And don’t get me wrong, I am proud of all that I’ve accomplished and still aspire to go farther with my education, profession, career, etc. However, there is quite a difference between committing yourself to progressing in a certain field and letting that job dominate and define you. And I was eventually able to come out the other side of the “drama-tunnel” into the lovely land of acceptance. The most difficult part of this process was coming to a place of recognizing that even though I was going to fight as hard as I could, and even though I knew that I was right, things still might not go my way. Once I considered the very real possibility that I could lose my job, let it sink into my brain, and settle in, instead of trying to push it away and panic, it started to scare me less and less.

And the only way I was able to do this was by leaning on and accepting the support of those who love me. So a big thank you to my almost-husband. I can’t even put into words how thankful I am to have Mike, but I will keep trying nonetheless. Also, to my loving and endlessly supportive almost parents-in-law, who I know will always have my back, no matter what. I love you guys.

I also drew on the strength of my incredible father who has had to deal with some of the most challenging situations I have ever witnessed. In the interest of respecting his privacy, I won’t go into the nature of his battles, but suffice to say he has handled it with a grace, resolve, integrity and strength of character that most people only aspire to have. And I recalled the many lessons that he has taught me while facing those challenges. That jobs are just jobs. They are not who you are, they do not determine your value or worth as a person, and that by nature they are transitory things, meant to function in a continuum or progression. He also taught me to recognize and see the opportunities that could be hidden in situations that look so bleak. For example, if I were to get fired, I wouldn’t have drive an hour each way to work, I could spend more time focusing on my writing or wedding planning, I could become a world-class Mario Kart competitor, etc etc..

Most importantly, he taught me to always do the right thing, even if it seems really difficult. I know, readers, it sounds so cliché and fifth grade, but its true. On Friday, after being put through hell with this disaster, I wanted nothing more than to throw up my hands, call my principals and resign, effective yesterday. But I knew that what they were trying to do to me was wrong, and that the right thing to do would be to fight, even if it meant drawing out this painful and exhausting process. So I fought. And ultimately I won.

So here I am, still gainfully employed, but left with a bitter taste in my mouth concerning this whole debacle. However, I am still recognizing the positives of this episode, and feel more confident in myself and my abilities as a person, not just as a counselor.

Being thankful for my job today, but always being thankful for being andiepants,

Andie.