Broken

November 14, 2008, that is the date on the release papers from my previous employer. Like a dirty little secret that was discussed and documented about me, right behind me.  I found out on Thursday, November 20th.  I will never forget because my company notepad has the date on the upper right corner atop an empty page still waiting for voicemails that were never retrieved and notes from meetings I had already accepted. 

My company decided to officially lay me off the day before my wedding.  This was their gift to me.  In an instant I was a stay at home housewife.  My identity as I knew it would was no longer. 

I wasn't too happy with work.  But who is really?  I did the daily grind, made a decent living and I was an independent woman who didn't rely on anyone to help me survive.  I was about to marry the love of my life and things couldn't have been better.

Then just like that; my entire world changed.  In the beginning there were no tears and reluctantly I was at peace with what had happened.  I was filled with hope and excitement of endless possibilities.  I thought about all the things I wanted to do, things I wanted to explore.  There was so much energy and excitement and I was ready to make everything happen.

It's June 2009 and here I am; months later, elations deflated and hope sucked out of me.  My efforts are futile.  I hear it's because of the economy.  However, my insecurities are screaming reminding me that I am surrounded by friends and family more fortunate than me.  I am filled with envy but my smile and enthusiasm make their best efforts to hide the pestering demons inside.  I question my sanity.  The questions and answers don't change.  People are reluctant to ask how the search is going, but they do, and like a broken record I tell them, "...not so well but times are tough and I'm trying to staying positive".  They nod in approval as I lie.

The weekend ends and Monday gives birth to a new week.  Wednesday comes and the energy and excitement of mid week surrounds me.  Friday is here and everyone celebrates with laughter and drinks but to me everyday is Friday yet I smile and raise my glass and celebrate with friends.  I am happy and carefree from the stresses of work.  People remind me that I am lucky.  "Now you can do what you really want to".

What I really want to do silence the voices that belittle me everyday.  Every application that goes unanswered is another kick to my gut.  I get up and do it all over again day in day out.  I wonder about the opportunities I may have missed and question decisions I have made.  What if I missed a window of opportunity and this is why I am here?   Now I'm sounding like a true American.   

I do volunteer work.  I run.  I signed up for a marathon.  I do things to occupy my time and build my character.  Yet I feel weak and wonder what it will take to make me strong again.  I question if this is my test then I curse the plan. 

This is my story.  It's an internal one that is masked by a made up face, pressed clothes and impeccably groomed facade.  My manicure is flawless and not a hair is out of place.  It tells the story that I want to tell; that I am fine, I am positive and I am continuing to make my best efforts.  That my chest is full of faith and I still have my shit together despite the odds.  

I think of the other stories.  The ones I don't hear, the ones that aren't told.  I think about those that had so much more to lose than just their pride and think about how I can make a molehill into a mountain.  

We struggle and we don't have a manual to reference when something inside breaks.  We make mistakes and self medicate in an effort to ease the pain and fix what's broken. We bandage broken bones and stitch up bruises instead of putting them in casts and letting bruises fade on their own.   

I am reminded of struggles past.  The first time my heart was broken and the tears and pain and emptiness that didn't end.  My days started and ended in tears.  People told me things would get better and my heart would heal in time.  I didn't believe them but it did.  The 1st time I lost my job and the disappointment and failure I felt.  Wondering what I did wrong and how I should have fixed it.  I would never gain my confidence back.  I did.  The time I couldn't support myself anymore and had to move back home.  The shame and self doubt made me question my ability to pick up and become independent once again.  I did.

So I look back and think of times that have broken me.  I swear this time is the worst, but it always is.  Then another day begins and the days blur and I can barely remember when things got better.  Except they did.