The 6 Stages of Non-Wages

Have you heard of the stages of grief, sometimes called the stages of loss or mourning? It is said to be a universal pilgrammage for grieving people; and so it seems to be a healthy thing, to move through these stages, and get "stuff" out of one's system so healing can take place and life can progress. I guess it also makes sense, that when you "lose your job" you might go through something similar to a mourning period. It's not a person that is lost, so I don't want to make as dramatic of a statement as grief, per se, to describe some of the feelings we go through being unemployed. But hey, if the act fits, maybe I should stage it.

According to experts, the five or seven stages of loss tend to range from the initial shock and denial, all the way through anger, bargaining, depression, and usually the experience is said to end at acceptance. We can see how some of these natural responses would be likely in the realm of the recently laid-off worker. For someone who had worked a very long time in a certain business or for a certain employer, I'm sure the effects are harder still to deal with. Many people truly love what they do, and they center a good portion of their life around their job, and spend a lot of time at their company and/or with the people at their company.

However, in the case of the unemployed, we have to be very careful about how long we catch ourselves lingering in some of the stages of grief. Because, unlike mourning the loss of a person, being unemployed isn't really a permanent situation. A job, unlike a person, can be replaced. Maybe not exactly the same job, but for all intents and purposes, one can resurrect one's work life.

So, for example, let's tread gingerly around the depression stage, shall we? If you feel the blues set in, that's understandable, but get some help, pronto, because you need confidence and energy to get out there in order to solve the cause of the depression stage in the first place. Meaning, you need to put your best foot forward to be re-employed. And if you're unemployed long enough to get to the acceptance stage, well... hmmmm. This is a bit perplexing. You must accept the loss of the old job, yes. That's all there is to it, though. Not to be harsh, but the fact is, it's gone. When it comes to employers, we're making room for the new.

I started this blog using the analogy of zombies and the scariness of being re-animated once bitten. You know, I gotta admit, zombieland has almost happened to me here over the last couple of weeks. The old fleece robe I banished two months ago has re-appeared as of late, sometimes remaining on my body until mid-afternoon. Loaded with cat hair. I noticed this as I sat here by the computer recently.

Actually, "noticed" is rather gentle. I kind of panicked. Because, I mean, I know I've gone mousy with my blonde, but really, has joblessness turned me this gray, this fast? Plus how much hair am I losing now? Turns out the "good news" is that it was gray cat hair all over my robe, not mine, in bad lighting, which made it so I couldn't tell for a minute there. Yet, I didn't really...get up. You know, to look closer. Until later. When I got food.

Eww. So, fortunately for me, I'm managing my stages fairly quickly. Like that Lazy/Crazy Stage I just passed out of. I washed that hair right out of my robe, and that grey right out of my day, and by that afternoon I had been called for a really great job interview.  Funny how that works. Making room for the new.

Here's how I've found my Six Stages of Unemployment to be--all bearable, very natural, and quite usable for strengthening and self-improvement. Remember, we're kicking ass and finding inner peace this year. That's not a stage, it's a promise!

Stage 1: Chin Up I was optimistic and had a lot of energy to make the most of things. I set out to be a model of how to be laid off and still be okay...better than okay, actually: to thrive.

Stage 2: Sad I missed people I worked with, even though I knew them less than a year--I missed the idea of knowing them longer. One gal just got married and she sent pics. I cried over her happiness and wished we worked together during this, since we were there for her engagement, etc.

Stage 3: Settled I felt I should enjoy this time and maximize the heck out of it, undertaking many projects, being domestic, working on writing a novel, reading, getting taxes done, lunch with friends and family, cooking more and being more present with the home life and personal goals. Good.

Stage 4: Cranky I began to have my nose out of joint a little, with the low response to my resume submissions. Why are they not calling me back for interviews? Don't they realize/I'm doing every thing right? Increasingly hurt inside and irritated outside that I'm hardly being given a chance.

Stage 5: Lazy/Crazy Onset of zombieland syndrome; hairy robe sightings (went out to mailbox in said robe one afternoon), online job search efforts less frequent aka "not worth it," daily plan to do yoga and work on novel and update this blog consistently ignored. Greek yogurt spoiling in fridge.

Stage 6: Nervous ... but Sane. This is the honest stage, where I come back from the brink of zombieland to tell you the truth. I haven't been unemployed long enough to feel desperate, but I can see how that could become Stage 7. I also don't have small children, or elderly parents I must support, and my husband still has his job and insurance. But I need to work, plain and simple. I need wages. We have obligations we must meet and goals we feel strongly about, as well. And there's a guilty feeling in all this, too, even though I know it's not "my fault" my company laid me off.

So, yes, I'm grateful we have family and a home to help us through when we need it, if it comes to that. I've said it before: I'm a lucky jobless person. I have enough for food, a computer, electricity, etc. However, I'm still nervous. I'm owning this stage. Just know this: I'm not letting this stage own me!
 

Tru Dat Tom Petty

It's been two weeks since my position was eliminated and I began this busy shuffle to escape the potential horrors of a life lost in jobless zombieland. So far, so good, I guess. I mean, to be honest, reports from the front aren't the rosiest you ever did want to hear about, but I'm not here to dwell on that. Not yet anyway. Believe me, if this blog is still going on a couple months from now, there might be a shift in tone when it comes to the business of getting me a job. For now, though, all is well. There are opportunities, and I'm locating them, and people are helping me with referrals, and I feel fine. Things are cookin', as they say.

Like the soup I made yesterday. Split pea. It always takes a while before it comes together in all its glory. During the early hours, when those peas are still hard and the flavors haven't been fully summonsed from the ham bone, the bay leaf, the mirepoix, etc., it's a lot harder to get excited about that soup. Will it ever be done? Not looking too good... But then, once those carrots are soft, and the peas transform into the creamy, sweet broth you were waiting for, and you ladle it steaming into your bowl on a frigid Chicago evening, on your favorite TV night--the night of Bravo's Top Chef--then you remember. Then, you make a note of that feeling... of comfort.

See, the soup was always going to be okay, even when it was a dried up leaf floating on yellow stock with a lumpy hock in the middle and the peas wouldn't budge.

Tom Petty had it right: The waiting is the hardest part.

Carly Simon had it right: We may never know about the things to come, but we think about them anyway.

Henry Ford had it right: You can't build a reputation on what you are going to do.

What? What's that last one doing in there? Well, I'm a fan of Henry Ford, especially his quotes. I collect quotes, and that guy had a lot of useful things to say. Pretty impressed with how he came up with the car and everything, but it's his quotes that really wow me. Anyway, I included this one, because of the soup. And the anticipation of how good it's going to be. And the waiting, while it goes through its necessary stages to get to its best outcome. And the business of getting me a job.

Follow me: when we eat the soup, we all know I'm good at cooking it, because of how well it turns out. Then I should know, I don't have to worry anymore in the process, about if it will ever be done or if it's not looking too good. So, you see, both my soup and my work reputation are built on what I have already done. And both depend on what I'm doing right now. You can't get to eating up the results of the future until you're there.

Yes, I'll enjoy that feeling of comfort when I do get hired, but Henry Ford's quote reminds me that when this happens, I'll know then that my employment was always going to be okay. Even when I saw some lousy unemployment figures, even when I was submitting my unique qualifications to be scanned by computer programs, even when my resume was being forever versioned so it wouldn't be ignored.

Right now was always going to be the way we have found it to be, too. The best thing we can do is keep it on simmer, check and stir it often, and add more seasoning or liquid as needed. Till done.

PS: Want my split pea soup recipe? Comment below. If I get a couple requests, I'll be happy to share my method, which is pretty yummy, if I do say so myself!