Jobless Identity Crisis
Job searching when you have no job pretty much blows. If you have worked for a long time, or are used to having a steady amount of work, and suddenly you don't, you go through a sort of identity crisis. You don't really feel like you belong anywhere.
I am going on 5 months out of work, if you include my Maternity Leave time that I was laid off. It's odd...I don't feel normal or like myself at all. I went to a spin class today with a bunch of SAH moms - and I felt completely disconnected from them. It could have something to do with the fact that I pretty much almost puke every time I do a spin class, and all of them live for that shit, so they are screaming and hollering during class - and that just pisses me off, but whatever. Still, I don't identify with the SAH mom...even though, technically I am one, but my kids are in daycare as I job search, so its sort of a hybrid.
Now, let's be serious. Having my kids in day care and just doing whatever the fuck I want is a lifestyle I could become accustom to for a short period of time. Wake up, drink some tea, make lunches, send kids to school, go work out, go to lunch, watch Ellen, maybe get on the computer and fuck around, then pick up kids? Sure, I might be able to do that for a bit. But at the end of the day, I know me...I would be bored as hell, and seriously feel like I have no purpose.
Which brings me to today. I found out that I didn't advance to the next round for a job that would have required a major relocation for my whole family. Honestly, I don't know how I made it to the round I did, but that is beside the point. Overall, rejection just fucking sucks. How do you take it? How do you listen to all those books that tell you to "Let Go" or "Stop Worrying". Fuck that motherfucker - I got a mortgage in Southern California - I ain't got time to stop worrying.
And you know what? Why is that not ok? It's not productive, sure, but fuck - maybe I just want to wallow for a while. I miss my single days where I could just curl up in pajamas on a Friday night, and not get out of bed until Monday morning, doing nothing but eating, drinking "martinis" (basically straight vodka with a splash of flavored water in a martini glass) and binge watching Bravo network. Those weekends ROCKED! I felt like a complete bum, but hell, I was decompressing.
One time, I wallowed so hard, that after 6 consecutive cocktails I decided it was a good idea to go for a run. Please note, I am NOT A RUNNER. Word to the wise, this is NOT a good idea, and never do it. If you weren't a puker to begin with, you will be. And the other people exercising on your trail will not be pleased with your bush puking, especially when they realize you are just a drunk bastard and not working out too hard. So lesson of the day, no drunk depression running - its not a pretty sight.
But alas, once you have kids, you don't have a single moment of weekend time to yourself. By the time you get done with all the sports and gatherings and every other fucking thing that makes you mom shame the weekend away, and you put the kids to bed - you are too exausted to even watch a single episode of anything let alone have some "you" time. So the idea of wallowing at all is just obliterated.
So, when you get rejected for a job, or "ghosted" on applications, or left to basically just rot and wait for something to come along after your endless stream of applications - you just have to pucker up and deal with it. It sucks, but you gotta do it. And your identity crisis - just deepens into an all out personal war in your head. Only time will tell if you can overcome it. Guess you have to - the alternative is just not an option.
Leave a Reply.
Foul mouthed, outspoken and pretty much an eternal realist.