LETTING GO

So. Workplace. A few weeks ago, Mr. Big Chief called us into a meeting and announced that due to internal politic issues, we may all lose our jobs. There are meetings being held, calls being placed, arguments being had over money and hurt feelings, and so far nobody knows what’s going to happen.

And all this time I’ve had all these things in my mind that I want to say but can’t, and my throat is starting to burn with unsaid feelings and I just have to write. I have to say all this before I break out in tears, before I go out and scream and kick and punch and die a little bit inside. So bear with me internets while I have a public moment, and pour out this rumble of thoughts that won’t quiet my mind.

I feel mad. I feel furious and angry and panicked and sad, and irritated. I feel disappointed, tense, unmotivated, pitiful, lonely, stressed, sad, gloomy, miserable, cheerless and grumpy. And you all may think it’s because I am afraid of not finding another job, of being forced to work a Mcjob, of not being able to make rent, of having to go back to Mexico where things may possibly just be worse. But it is not that.

It’s the fact that I adore my job that is making me mad. I adore it here. I love this company. I love my colleagues, my desk, my commute, my hours, my salary, my daily issues, my conversations, my meetings, my reports. I love what I do. I LOVE WHAT I DO. And most importantly I LOVE DOING IT HERE. I love it that I can wear jeans if I want to, I love it that my personal life can come first. I love that we work helping communities in developing countries. I love that the MD is quirky, that we are all a bunch of hippies, that my boss let’s me handle my work as I think is best. And sure, there are problems, being hippies means we are not decisive enough, not commercial enough, and there are a lot of politics and misunderstandings and lack of professionalism. But I don’t really mind, the other bits are so good that for the first time in my life I am happy where I am. I am not itching to leave, not waiting for 3 years to go by, not wanting to switch careers, not hating my boss, or hating my work, or hating the customer. I love this flippin’ place. And it is going down, and things are rough, and I want to weep because it feels like I am breaking up. It feels like we’ve had a fight, and things are never going to be the same, and I would be ready to leave except things were just starting to get going. I want to launch one more product, have one more meeting, visit suppliers one more time. I want to do it all over again, fall in love with this job all over again, with the knowledge that I have acquired and the growing I have done. And I can’t. And it’s killing me. Sigh.

I’m working on this new project with the knowledge that it may never be, and it feels like a lie. Every phone call I make feels deceitful. I want to say goodbye to the lovely people I have been working with over the past year and I can’t. I want to tell them it has been wonderful to know them, it has been amazing to grow with them, and it has been rewarding as hell to have been able to help them. I want to thank them for helping me fall in love with life a little bit more, and wake up with excitement in the mornings. I want to tell them they have restored my faith in life. They have taught me that fairytales exist; they have given me my eagerness, my friskiness, my excitement back.

But I can’t. And so I post, anonymously, on this blog that no one reads, hoping my soul finds some relief. There are good things to come. I just have to let go.