Four Months

I lost my job at the end of June.  The company I worked for was purchased in January by a French company and now, my services are no longer needed.  To say I am terrified is a huge understatement.  I am alone.  I’m $30,000 in debt, largely from my last bout of unemployment 5 years ago (it lasted for 2 years and wiped me out and then some), along with medical bills I’ve incurred since due to several surgeries I had to have (the warranty has expired!).  And then there’s this pesky eating disorder that compels me to spend an ungodly amount on groceries every week.  Groceries that I puke and flush down the toilet.  So basically, terrified doesn’t come close to describing the level of fear, panic, terror, horror, and trepidation I am currently experiencing.  I almost lost everything before.  Before when I lost my job because I wouldn’t do something that was illegal.  Back when I was in a better place.  This time, all my reserves are gone, emotionally, physically and financially, and I’m in this massive hole.  I’m not as healthy as I was.  I’m still struggling emotionally. I see no hope on the horizon.
Which brings me to 4 months.  That’s the severance package I’ll be receiving.  Had to sign an agreement giving away my right to sue to get any severance at all.  Four months. In this economy, while it is better than nothing, it’s pretty much equivalent to getting 2 weeks in the past.  A drop in the bucket.  I feel as if I’ve been handed a death sentence.  I have 4 months to live.  Barring a miracle, at the end of that time, my life will be over.
Four months to live isn’t very long.
There is no treatment available for my malady.  As I said, barring a miracle, I’m done for.  I’m old enough so as to be unattractive to prospective employers.  I don’t have one of those bubbly, happy-go-lucky, warm, positive personalities that instantly draw people in.  I’m actually rather odd.  Professional, but a bit distant.  That’s going against me too.  I have 25 years of experience but no degree.  Lots of continuing education, but that doesn’t seem to matter.  I’m broken in ways that are hard to fix.  Abuse does that to you.  Years of rejection haven’t helped.  I have a hard time believing I have any value at all.  So it’s pretty difficult to sell myself.  Considering I don’t believe I’m worth anything. 
I’m tired.  I’ve tried and tried to overcome, to heal, to win, to do more than survive.  I’ve longed to live and find love and purpose and meaning.  I’ve invested a ton of money and effort in counseling to try to find wholeness.  To try to find life.  But it hasn’t happened, in spite of my efforts.  Everything turns to sand and dirt.  What little I have keeps getting yanked out from under me.  It makes me a little sad.  Because I never have actually gotten to live.  I’ve always been bound and broken.  Restrained.  Confined in this prison constructed by my mind and damaged soul.  Four months isn’t enough time to make it all right.  It’s not enough time to turn everything around.  Not unless my path radically changes.  Which isn’t likely to happen.  Not without a miracle.
My dogs…I worry about what will happen to my babies.  How am I going to take care of them?  What if I can’t?
I truly feel as if I have been given a death sentence.  I hope I’m wrong.  I hope this is an opportunity for a new beginning.  But…but…I’m afraid I’ve been here before.  It was a nightmare then; a complete disaster.  It’s even worse now.  The economy is not my friend.  I’m not a young, perky, attractive thing.  So many things going against me and so few going for me.  I’m scared.  I don’t think I can handle this.  Four months to live.  Four short months.  And after that…?

One thought on “Four Months”

  1. I was in this place a month ago. It is a scary, lonely place to be. I found my refuge in my parents- I called them and explained my situation and they allowed me to move home. It is not ideal, but it is where I am now. I hope that you can find a refuge, too.
    Nothing is a death sentence. I believe that you will persevere.


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