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Definitely a full weekend.

Friday happened. Real hard.

After waiting to hear back from work about when I needed to come in for some new training, I finally got an email. But definitely not the one I wanted. Instead of a time to come in for training, they just decided to let me go. I am no longer needed. In fact, I was not even given the chance to finish out the pay period. And because I recently changed to working from home instead of being in the office, they have no legal binding to me, which was why they were able to just drop me quick.

I felt like the proverbial rug had been swept out from beneath me.

And I fell. Real hard. Thankfully, I have wonderful friends. A dear friend came over to my apartment to comfort me. We went to a church event that evening and then country dancing after. My friend stayed the night since I had my apartment to myself this weekend and her presence was a huge comfort to me.

But let me be real with you. This being let go was a hard hit. And it was about my writing...so as a writer, I felt personally humiliated and hurt. And very confused, because up until this past week, everything was grand. They loved me; I loved them. All hunky dory. So definitely shocking, scary, and hurtful.

There is a letting go feeling going on right now inside of me. Letting go of the job and all that I thought it was. Having to learn again how to trust and let go of my controlling desires. Anybody else struggle with this? I feel like I am not the only one.

Saturday, I had a difficult conversation with a friend. And by difficult conversation, I mean that her, her roommate, and I all sat down and had the discussion about how much professional help she needed to get in the wake of family death, struggles, depression, and anxiety. This went so far as to going to the hospital to get an evaluation done. In fact, the same hospital that I spent my inpatient days in. That was a throwback. I had major flashbacks. But I was there to support a friend, so I did.

Both Saturday and Sunday nights came with huge panic attacks. Not fun. So Monday morning came with grogginess and a hungover feeling, not that I am actually familiar with that feeling, to be honest, but it sure felt like what I imagine them to feel like.

I had a meeting get canceled in the morning, but I still had a lunch meeting about “the show,” as elusive as that sounds, I still can give no more details. But soon, my friends, soon.

As I am writing this, it is Monday evening and I am still tired and just plain worn out. The good news is that this week, I should be finding out about a space for me to finish my art in for the show and that would be amazing to finally have  s   p    a     c      e.

There are good meetings to come this week. Tomorrow I plan to throw some pots. And I don’t mean throw. I mean the pottery term - “to throw.” As in creating pieces of pottery on a wheel. Hopefully I can get out of bed tomorrow and do that. I am trying to hold onto what little sanity I have left. It may not be much, but I am certainly trying.

 

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