Looks like I have time to find myself

Five weeks ago I reached out to the CHRO to share the feedback I had received about moving to a new role internally. I had to explain why I was getting this feedback, or felt like I needed to, in order for the message to make sense. I hit send on the message Monday evening, right before logging off. Tuesday morning I logged on to a response from the CHRO, which struck me as odd. Although I knew and had worked with them before, I was sure my email was of little importance compared to the “stabilization” that was going on.

I opened the email and found myself very confused. I read it again and again and again. I wasn’t sure if I should feel upset, hurt, angry, supported, happy, or what. Frustration and confusion took center stage, for the most part. Where my email was about the company and an area within the company they oversee, their email was about me, but not in a positive, neutral, or negative way. I was excited that my story, relating my attempt to make my role be what I wanted over the last two years to a maternity shirt I accidentally bought in college (I wore a size 0), but I was confused as to why she would say she was glad we “both came to the same conclusion” and that we both realized the role wasn’t want I wanted. In the moment it felt like in between the lines she was saying I couldn’t do my job, it wasn’t a fit, and she has known this all along. I pushed it off to the side and moved forward with the stack of remaining emails.

I clicked join meeting, entering my weekly “priorities” meeting with my boss. I can still remember the screen pulling up, two circles sitting in the black abyss of a meeting room. One was my boss, their photo framed by the burst of colors the company used for Pride, the other was an HR team member I knew, one who didn’t intermingle with our HR group unless someone was losing their job. As the mic and connection began to sync, I took a deep breath knowing I was a short speech away from being told I wouldn’t have a job. 

After a few minutes I knew my last day was about two and a half weeks out, I knew my severance amount, and other elements of my severance package. Questions weren’t relevant given I understood each part of the process. I understood why the decision was made, I knew something was coming, but had hoped it would be later and have a different outcome. The severance amount goes into a calculator, I have seen and used it in the past. Years of service and level determine how much of everything you get, the only thing to confirm I already knew the answer to, does my prior (five years of) service count in this calculation? No.

I should have known something was coming. A 30 minute Monday meeting was extended to one hour by my boss, who always shortened the meetings to 25 minutes. Monday morning the meeting was moved to Tuesday, still an hour, at a time my calendar was blocked off. So, I shortened it. On Tuesday my boss, who is always two to five minutes late, logged into the meeting three + minutes early. Then there was that confusing email from the CHRO sent Monday night, after the original conversation was scheduled and I think they assumed it had occurred.

With no questions to be asked, the call ended. I turned my chair away from my desk and let my head fall into my hands. Tears rolled down my cheeks and as they did, I wondered what they were for. As tears splashed on my legs as I slowly lifted my head in realization. I wasn’t upset my job was being eliminated, I was upset that I was receiving a severance letter. I was upset because five (give or take) years ago I was the one working with the HRBPs to prepare them, doing the mail merges, checking the data. For all the letters I prepared, for all the reasons, never did I think I would be on the receiving end of one.

It is weird to think that all happened five weeks ago, more than a month, because it still feels like it happened a week or so ago.

The days leading into my last day were the same as usual, but with an added layer of frustration and the struggle to remain engaged. I would like to think that my performance in those days was no different than other days and if you didn’t know I was leaving the company, you wouldn’t have known by my actions. I was able to keep spirits high, or as high as you can when someone has just told you that you won’t have a job. 

Wrapping my mind around not having a job was hard, but then I looked at it differently. For all the mergers the company had gone through or were prepared to go through while I was there, I have always been ready to be let go. Not in the sense of I had another job lined up, but mentally. If the company decided the best decision for them was to proceed without my employment, that was fine because I would land on my feet somewhere else. It made it easier to not worry about what was to come through each of those. 

This decision wasn’t personal, no matter how much it felt like it was. It was however an isolated event, I was the only person in this role and therefore the only person being let go. My brain was stuck feeling attacked and singled out, I had to work hard at overcoming those thoughts and correcting the wiring in my brain. As the rational began to over weigh the emotional I was able to understand that the company made this decision based on numbers, not my performance or personality. 

When my career in HR first started at this company I was in charge of managing the voluntary terminations. The communications with the employees and their managers. It was so important to me to leave a positive impression on the employee as they headed out the door. People on my team would ask me why. It was because no matter what led to their decision to leave the company, I wanted them to leave with a “good taste” in their mouth, a final bright part of their employment with us and that maybe it could lead to them coming back one day. As I wrapped up my time with the company I kept the same in mind, kinda. It was important for me, the employee, to leave them, the employer, with a good taste in their mouth about me, positive memories, and bonds recognized. No matter how frustrated I was at the decision or how any part of it may have been handled, I wanted to walk out with my head high and everyone having more than they needed from me. Setting anyone up for failure wasn’t only not an option, but it would be petty and embarrassing to do.

A few weeks prior to getting the news about my job I had already decided it was time for something different. The role I was in had never been what it was advertised or I wanted, I was frustrated and didn’t need to be. I had also hit my 10 year anniversary in HR at the end of September. At the beginning of my HR career I decided that in five years I would move into a role where I could write. Realizing I was five years past that deadline, unhappy, and unfulfilled in my role, I decided it was time to really chase that dream.

Yeah, having my job eliminated sucked, but it was great timing. Now I would be able to utilize services that specialize in helping you find a job as I go through my career change. (Even if they aren’t turning out to be all that great.)

Thursday was my last day in the “office” and two years since I had walked into the office (a real office, isn’t it weird!). The next day I had therapy and my therapist kicked off the appointment like she usually does, “So, tell me what’s new.” “I don’t have a job,” I replied. It was fairly new. Her jaw dropped and we talked about it. 

PROUD. 

“You should be proud of yourself,” she told me and told me again and then a few more times. I knew she meant to be proud of the way I handled things, how professional I remained, how I didn’t have a breakdown, spiral out of control, try to take my own life, etc.

I have left three companies by my own choice and two I worked through to my last day like there was nothing different. I made sure everything was in order for the next person, and in one case I worked until 9 pm making sure all the manual processes were well documented for the next poor schmuck that would sit at that desk. There has only been one resignation where this level of care wasn’t provided and it was when I couldn’t return to work after my STD/FMLA expired and I had to quit (for medical reasons). Was and am I proud of how I held it together despite the impending fact that I would have no job, no income, but still bills to pay? Yes. I am pretty sure that success is attributed a lot to Kevin, to his fearless facing of these situations and (unfortunate) experienced know-how. 

Going into that appointment I knew she would talk about being proud. I knew that I should be, but couldn’t put my finger on why or what was different.

In early 2017 I couldn’t make it to work. I worked less than a week in over a month. Depression and anxiety had set up for an extended stay in my brain and decided to redecorate the place while they were there. Self injury, to the point of death, was a very real daily risk. I couldn’t be left alone in my own house because I wanted to overdose or burn the place down. Along with work I had to put a stop to playing derby. I cried and cried and cried. I was scared to tell my dad and stepmom about it because I was worried I would disappoint them by not being able to work or play roller derby. My entire identity was wrapped up in these two things, so much so that my mental health was at the most a secondary concern.

That is what is different this time around. My identity is not wrapped up in my work, I am not HR Employee/Heather. I am Heather. Things make me who I am and, yes, my work did/does contribute to that. But this time around, even though my role was being taken from me, not being returned to the employer, I didn’t spiral. I didn’t question who this made me. It didn’t feel like I was losing a part of me and that is huge. I learned how to keep work from making up my identity and kept it in a supporting role that contributed to who I am.

WARNING. (from my therapist, not to you)

“You are doing really well,” she told me. “But, be careful. There is usually a really hard crash in situations like this.” 

As each day passes I can see this crash preparing to happen ahead of me. I am one of five cars who are barreling down the road about to slam into a brick wall all at once or I am somehow in the middle of two trains on the same track headed for collision. By Thursday of my first week unemployed I wanted to cry. I had applied for every job out there that I was interested in and qualified for, plus a few more. It felt like there was nothing else to do, except vomit from endlessly scrolling through job board after job board. 

Everyone keeps telling me to use this time for me, that I probably won’t get it again for a while. That this is a great time to answer my age old question, who am I? Time to read. Time to do workbooks. Time to actually review the skills I am learning in group therapy. Time to write about whatever I want. That this selfcare will be the only thing that gets me through this sane and will allow me to make the right decision when the time comes. But how? With no job, shouldn’t finding a new job be my full-time job? I don’t feel that I am deserving of selfcare. I feel like I should be punished, that I don’t get nice things, and treating myself to a coffee or $1 pair of socks is absurd, because after all I am the one who doesn’t have a job. I don’t have a way to continue my contribution to the bills. I know and understand that what happened isn’t a direct reflection on me, that it was a business decision. But, part of my brain doesn’t, a loud part of it, is telling me it is all my fault and I need to be punished.

I have officially been unemployed for two weeks. I have applied for a lot of jobs, too many if you ask Kevin, and received a handful of rejections. Rejections are fine and, in a way, good because they help me to narrow the list of options that might be right for me. I was contacted for a phone interview and it was scheduled for today, but last night I cancelled it. In my in-depth research of the company and re-review of the job posting I found that the company expects all employees to embody and display the values of their largest (and from what I found only) partner at all times. There was a link to these values and presenting them to others would be presenting a false version of myself. I cringed while reading the six page document and knew it was something that wouldn’t be right for me. So, I cancelled the interview because it wasn’t fair for me to take up their time with no intentions of ever working for them. I was honest and explained why I was declining. While I was still nervous and unsure of the call I made, I was (am am) proud of myself for not feeling that I had to accept the first thing that came my way and acknowledging when something wouldn’t be a true fit.

Everyday I wonder and worry what is to come. How do I balance discovering and taking care of myself with finding a new job?

I am keeping to a schedule though. I still wake up at 6:30 am and go to bed around 10:30 pm. Every morning I get ready for a run, enjoy a coffee with Kevin while watching Colbert or John Oliver, and then I run. I run as far and as long as I want to. Last week I logged a total of 20.61 miles ran, with my average mile being less than 14 minutes(!!). This morning it was around 30 degrees with a feels like of 28 degrees, but that didn’t stop me. For 5.61 miles I watched my breath in front of me as I ran.

WRITING & STUFF

Kevin encouraged me to do some “real” writing over on Medium. So, if you want to see that, check it out.

I may, and probably should, add something to my other blog, oohgioia. It has some older things I wrote about random things. It is kinda a mashup of all these failed side projects I did in college, but put together by a terrible DJ.