Resilience

I'm having a hard time writing now, because I feel like I don't have anything to say, like my mind has gone quiet. Not a boring, peaceful kind of quiet, but the kind of quiet of something just giving up. In moments when I am able to stem the tide of negative thoughts, I can sometimes interpret them as "relaxing."

I did manage to do the dishes yesterday. I woke up (and that is getting much easier, and coming with much more regularity) and asked myself, "Do you think you can do the dishes today?" And somehow, I managed to mobilize myself enough to get almost all of it done, save for a few pots and the last batch that still needs to be put away. Fiver spent most of that time at my feet running around and climbing on things, and didn't want to go play by himself away from me, but he didn't get in the way, so it was fine. I tried to spend the time on the dishes thinking about stuff, but my mind was numb, and had very little to offer. My mom was happy to see the dishes finally done, and Jesse said he had wanted to say something about it, but thought it would sound patronizing. I had to explain to him, I need the encouragement and positive reinforcement, because I have a really hard time motivating myself internally.

My mom keeps telling me about the bills. I don't want to hear about the bills. I can't hear about the bills. I transferred all of my money out of Paypal to pay the rent, and have nothing left. There is nothing more I can do, and I can't stand hearing about the bills. Every time she says something, I try hard to unhear it. I have to accept there's nothing I can do about it, and throw all the faith I can muster into Jesse to figure out how to keep us on our feet for the time being. Because I can't even really think about bills or jobs or income without crying.

I did start dabbling on Craigslist. I sent some emails for some writing gigs, nothing really promising yet. One of them is for a website project that sounds fun, but it will "take a while to monetize" meaning I'd be writing for free indefinitely. I figured I'm writing for free here, and I'd rather work on someone else's project with prompts and direction so I don't have to promote my own material (I'm not egotistical enough to be any good at self-publishing). Today I found an ad for a CPS case coordinator, listed today, which is right up my alley. I have the page open in my tabs, but I don't know if I'm ready to open that can of worms. I would have to update my resume, and I have embarrassingly little to show for this last year. I can't even convince myself that being a stay-at-home parent is good experience, would certainly have a hard time convincing an employer. It also requires 3 years of experience, which again, is infuriating. Every job that requires a degree also requires experience in the field, which I WOULD have had if some idiot at the Sheriff's Department hadn't messed up my juvenile record and caused me to lose that internship for no good reason. I had a hard time after that even looking for another similar position, because I was so nervous about the same thing happening, even though I'd had the error corrected. And then at a job interview, I would have to tell them why I wasn't working for Family Resources anymore, which is... I can't even think about it without tearing up. I don't even know how to talk about it.

When they let me go, they told me they'd be happy to recommend me wherever I might apply, but I haven't had any interviews since then. I put in applications for a time, trying to fulfill the requirements for unemployment, but when the red tape got to be too much, I just gave up. (It's not like they ever sent me the fucking unemployment checks anyway.) It was bad enough, halfheartedly sending my resume out into the void every week, getting an inbox full of rejection emails. Part of me was glad I didn't have to deal with an interview, the other part of me felt dejected about all the copy-paste rejections. I felt so disposable. So useless. Like there wasn't really any place in the world for me, I was not valuable to anyone.

At least while I worked at Family Resources, I felt valuable to them. I devoured all the training information, jumped at any opportunity to improve my skills, and they were willing to invest in me. Most other jobs I've had, it's like pulling teeth to get them to set aside time to train you. You're just a breathing body that can take commands, that's all that matters to them. But there, I was a real resource, and it was refreshing to be valued like that.

I don't even know how to explain to myself how I lost the job. No matter what I wrap the story in, it's still devastating. In watching the recent news on Jill Abramson and her firing, I found her reaction to it heartening, when she talked about resilience in the face of setbacks. She talked about how it was more important to her father to see his kids handling setbacks and bouncing back than to see them basking in success. "Show what you are made of," she said, quoting him.

If this past year is me showing what I'm made of, I must be made of soggy noodles and slush.

I was told, when I lost the job, to tell a future employer that I "needed more time for family" or that I left for "personal reasons." This was something I found really offensive. I don't lie. Not even if it's in my "best interest." In order to make any convincing lie, I'd have to lie to myself first, and I just can't do that. There's a moral barricade, and it is completely impossible for me to do. If I were to do it, I would feel ashamed, I would feel like they thought something worse had happened. I would feel like a phony. I would feel like I didn't deserve a job, even if I got it.

Telling the truth is never pretty. But if I did tell the truth, what would I have to say that was true, but would also still win me the job?

"I see here you worked for Family Resources as a Youth Care Worker, but it says here you only worked there for a few months. What happened?"

*deep breath* "I was told, when they let me go, to tell employers I left 'for personal reasons.' The reason it's taken me so long to apply for any jobs was because I couldn't say that and still pride myself for my honesty. If I had to lie to get a job, I didn't want one. The truth is, a lot of things went wrong. Some of those things were out of my control, some of them I only saw clearly in retrospect. I understand it's not the explanation an employer wants to hear, it's not pretty and it doesn't fit in a neat little package, but that's the truth of it."

Assuming they don't shake my hand at that point and say, disingenuously, that it's been "a pleasure" and "we'll give you a call," I will continue:

"I was eager to work for a company I loved in any capacity, so when the job opened up, I dove in head-first. I was given the choice between a weekday afternoon/evening shift or an overnight shift. This was my first mistake. I chose the afternoon/evening shift because I wanted the shift with more time to interact with the kids, so that I would have more opportunities to develop my skills and interact with them. I was naive about how difficult the job might be for me, and bit off more than I could chew. Had I chosen the other shift, the learning curve would not have been so steep, and I could have taken on more responsibilities as my skills developed.

"Next, my work partner was not an ideal match. Though he had two years experience on this job, his previous partner had ten years. He was knowledgeable about the job, but lacked the skills to manage the large groups of children the way his partner did. This was a skill I also lacked, and I had difficulty learning quickly without a strong model to emulate. As a team, we failed to manage larger groups when they became difficult. We were not able to communicate effectively enough to make up the difference. I often looked to him to lead when I wasn't sure what to do, and many times he failed to rise to that, at times when I felt unprepared to take control.

"I was very good with smaller groups. I connected very well with children on an individual level. Unfortunately, individual children behaved differently in groups. Even if I had a strong rapport with several children individually, if the group became large enough they would be hard for me to control. Four of five kids was manageable, but the shelter's population was often between eight and twelve residents. After a few incidents of groups becoming too unruly, management was forced to let me go.

"I made every effort to improve my skills as rapidly as possible through training opportunities and watching how my coworkers handled misbehavior, but unfortunately the learning curve was a little too steep. I lacked the experience, and didn't have a strong leader to learn from, so despite my best efforts, and the management's best efforts, we had to accept that I just wasn't the best fit for the job."

I don't know how much of that an employer would actually listen to, or if it even sounds good... but it sounds a lot better to me than saying "for personal reasons."