Glimmers of Stage 5

It's 6:30 on a Saturday morning. I've been up for two hours and have spent that time mostly laughing.

Laughter is good (an obvious statement). I've heard it referred to as "internal jogging," but my favorite description is enclosed in this quote: "Laughter is God's hand on the shoulder of a troubled world."

Waking up at 4:30 isn't unusual for me - I spent years jumping out of bed to get to work by 5 am and my biological clock is still stuck in that sleep pattern. Now, however, I get to savor the early mornings. No more hitting the snooze button till the last possible minute and then hauling ass into my clothes and out the door.

So what have I been doing this morning? Watching funny videos on YouTube; giggling at despair.com; and laughing at captioned pictures of cats and dogs.

God, I needed that.

My world view has been bleak since the death of my best friend, now just a month ago. I've grieved for her and worried over her two teenagers - legally adults but so lost right now. Two motherless children living alone in a suburban house, angry, defiant, and, unfortunately, self-medicating. The house has become Party Central, full of underage drinkers and smokers (and I'm not referring to tobacco).

And here I stand, helpless and unable to control anything about this situation, a reality that slams right into the 'high dominance' I score on all those behavioral tests. I'm also angry at their mother - my friend - for some of her parenting skills, which makes me even more pissed off because she's dead and I want to grieve for her, not be angry.

A couple weeks ago, I printed off a copy of something called "The 7 Stages of Grief."
Stage 1 - Shock and denial
Stage 2 - Pain and guilt
Stage 3 - Anger and bargaining
Stage 4 - Depression, reflection, loneliness
Stage 5 - The Upward Turn
Stage 6 - Reconstruction and working through
Stage 7 - Acceptance and hope

I've been deep into Stage 4 these last few weeks, with occasional dips into shock and anger. In Stage 4, "you finally realize the true magnitude of your loss, and it depresses you." It's described as a time of isolation and despair.

No kidding...


Daylight's come now. The world outside my windows is that beautiful shade of springtime green, dotted with daffodils, violets, and grape hyacinth. After the late snowfall in March and the cold, blustery days of April, spring has finally taken hold.

I've been getting glimpses of Stage 5 - the Upward Turn - these last few days, when life becomes calmer and more organized; when depression finally begins to lift a little.

A reflection of what's happening on the other side of the glass. This morning's laughter felt healing.

Meanwhile, I realize the Universe has been slapping me upside the head, once again, trying to drive home the lesson that, when it comes right down to it, I have absolutely no control. Over anything, really.

My very wise sister-in-law, who has dealt with her own teenagers, told me to "just pour love on them."

That I can do. But letting go of the worry I have for them isn't so easy.

Especially when they're being stupid.

On the Dole

Unemployment numbers came out the other day, evidence that it's just as grim out there as they're saying it is: 524,000 jobs lost in December for a total loss in 2008 of 2.6 million jobs - the highest since 1945.

Every day brings a new story about layoffs - or pending layoffs. I know good, talented people who are suddenly finding themselves without gainful employment in a job market that absolutely sucks. They're putting a brave face on it, but I know exactly how they're feeling.

I was let go several years ago, and spent the next 13 months on the dole. It was the worst 13 months of my life. (If I'd known there'd be a happy ending once those months had passed, I could have treated it like a really extended vacation and relaxed and enjoyed the time off. But it didn't work out that way.)

It was hell. Not only was I out of work, but there was absolutely nothing available in KC in my then-chosen profession. It was move to another market or do something else. But do what???

So, for too long, I did nothing (or just enough to keep the unemployment checks coming). I've always liked to read, but during that period I was addicted, reading constantly, panicking as I closed one book if another wasn't near at hand. (I read Jane Eyre one day and Wuthering Heights the next, for example, and managed to give myself a bad case of eyestrain. But I still kept reading. Better to be in 19th century England than 20th century Kansas City.)

My self-esteem was non-existent. My savings slowly evaporated. But then, something shifted and I came out of hiding. I began investigating some new possibilities and cobbling together a variety of part-time things - freelance writing, teaching a couple classes at UMKC, and some other stuff. Got a little money coming in when - at the 13 month mark - a job offer materialized in left field and started me down a new path.

So if you find yourself in a similar position, here's the best advice I can offer:

Remember, you are not your job. We're such a work-obsessed society, defining ourselves and others by what job we do and what position we hold...

Get over it. You've lost a job. You haven't lost your identity, your good and bad qualities, your history. Yes, you've had a sucker punch to the gut, your world is entirely different, and you haven't a clue what to do next. But you haven't been diminished.

Shrug your shoulders and do what you need to do - which includes wailing and gnashing of teeth if you feel like it. Loss of a job is like a death, and expect to go through all the usual stages, from denial to anger to eventual acceptance. Do all that the advisers advise: network, reach out, go to support groups, whatever.

Now's not the time to hole up like I did.

SIGH....

I hate Sundays. I think it's a carryover from my school days, when Sundays meant I finally had to buckle down and do my homework, the weekend was almost over and school was dead ahead. Now I'm a grownup (allegedly) and it still means homework (not enough time during the week to get all the crap done I need to) and work is now dead ahead.

Whatever happened to the three-day weekend technology was supposed to bring us - promised all those years ago? And where, by the way, is my jet-pack?

Okay, okay - this is the last day of a four-day weekend and I AM grateful for that. Thanksgiving was bright and sunny - we started off with brunch at a good friend's - but it went downhill from there. My addictive nature struck when we returned home and I spent the rest of that day and the two that followed psychologically chained to my computer, going obsessively back and forth between CNN and Twitter, following the minute-by-minute updates from Mumbai (Bombay for those of you who don't know your geography).

I finally 'get' Twitter - thought it was a giant waste of time and certainly didn't want anyone 'following' me - my life isn't that interesting, for one thing. For another, it's nobody's business but my own.

But as the dreadful news from Mumbai continued, Twitter was way ahead of the conventional news media and I got sucked into the running commentary from people at the several scenes of carnage and craziness. My news junkie gene was way too active...got the turkey in late, which meant Mr. D and I ate our Thanksgiving meal at 9:00 PM. (He was a little fussy that I'd disappeared into the computer....)

The effectiveness of social media was a sidebar story to Mumbai. CNN said:

With more than 6 million members worldwide, an estimated 80 messages, or
"tweets," were being sent to Twitter.com via SMS every five seconds, providing
eyewitness accounts and updates.
Many Twitter users also sent pleas for
blood donors to make their way to specific hospitals in Mumbai where doctors
were faced with low stocks and rising casualties.
Others sent information
about helplines and contact numbers for those who had friends and relatives
caught up in the attacks. Tweeters were also mobilized to help with transcribing
a list of the dead and injured from hospitals.

Interesting to watch social media come of age...

Meanwhile, Black Friday was really dark - one poor guy gets trampled to death by a shopping-mad mob at a Wal-Mart on Long Island while two guys in California shoot it out at a Toys-R-Us. WTF is up with that??? (I'll do my Christmas shopping on-line, thank you very much.)

And on the homefront, I've had a low-level war going on between the old cat and the new one. Introduced them on Friday (finally) and the old black cat HATES the little orange one. No catfights, thankfully, but lots of growling and hissing. (Yes, we've decided to keep the little stray...dammit. But he sure is CUTE.)

Add to that the gray skies, cold, and wet - and I think I'm ready to go back to work tomorrow.