This past year was…
The Saturday Slant posted its first Slant on 9 March, 2003—this week one year ago. In honor of the one year anniversary of the Saturday Slant, tell your readers about your last year. What did you do? What do you wish you had done? What happened to you? What have you learned? How have you changed? Who came into, or left, your life?
It's been an interesting year. I looked over the entries for this blog from March of 2003. A lot concerned the war as it was beginning, and my concerns about sending troops and the safety of the civilians in Iraq. I realised that I still stand by my beliefs and that in essence, nothing about the war and how it's gone has really changed how I felt about it.
Despite that, I must say re-reading March's entries, a lot is the same this month. I was fairly upbeat, having clawed my way out of a depression and anxiety-ridden life, with the help of a year of therapy and Paxil for my anxiety issues. I was looking forward to spring (and am yet again, although--knock wood--we've hopefully dodged ice storms this year). I was sick that month, too, with some sort of stomach bug. I prefer a cold.
But some things have definitely changed over the year. The greatest challenge has been the layoff. I haven't really written that much about how that's gone, and I suppose I should have, if only to help resolve my feelings. In August, for the first time in 78 years of business, the hospital I work for laid off workers. My hours were cut to 20 a week. I was eligible for unemployment (but that's ending as of this week). I've been sending out résumés and even had a couple of interviews, and I do have another part-time job to show for it. But as anyone in the library field knows, it's hard to get a job in a bad oeconomy, especially if you live near a university with a library school. I have too many ties here to really think about moving across country. I suppose if there was no other way, I'd consider it. But I have family here, and friends as close as family, and it makes no sense to leave such a support system, nor, for that matter, leave them when I'm part of their support system.
But, as someone very wise recently told me, it's time to acknowledge that one of the reasons my job search has not met with success, despite qualifications, is that some part of me has not wanted to get a new job. A part of me resents that after years of being told how stable my position was, how it was okay to work for less because even in bad times you could rely on your job being there, that I was cut back. By cutting me back I doubt they even saved $10,000. And, yes, I've outwardly been calm and everyone's patted me on the back and told me that I'm taking it so well.
Which, quite frankly, is a crock. I wasn't taking it well. I was angry, as would be expected, but I don't express anger well. I'm not one of those crackpots who go off with a gun and workplace violence, mind you. No, I turn the anger inside. I always have. It's the legacy of coping mechanisms I learned years ago, the same ones that got me diagnosed with borderline personality. Granted, I'm a fairly 'mild' borderline, one that has undergone therapy, one who has increased her ability to be mindful, to tolerate distress, to interact with people healthfully. Most people don't see me as borderline, especially those who only know me from a professional point, because I could usually keep my professional life going even as my personal life crumbled. Even when the BPD did affect me professionally, others usually didn't see it. I've told people my diagnosis, and they just say 'are you sure?' Which I guess says a lot about how much I've improved.
But there is one person in my life I can't fool, even when I fool myself. He mirrors it all back to me, and acts as a kind of 'reality fairy'. And he realised what I didn't. That my anger and unresolved issues over the job left me with this sort of cloud of negative vibe that said, 'don't hire her'. I'd go to interview and people would be put off, for no reason they could figure out. It no doubt came out in my cover letters, too. All the words on the paper said 'hire me' but the subtext, if you will, was 'don't!' Why should that be? Because in some twisted way emotionally I was responding to the whole thing as if a child whose parents had sent her to her room. Fine! I'll make them sorry! I'll become destitute and live in my car and they'll have to feel sorry for me!
Crazy, ain't it? Welcome to BPD. I guess it's like alcholism...it's never quite cured, you can just abstain from it if you work at it. On the surface, I've done all the right things. But down deep, my fear and anger turned against myself; now that I've realised that, I can make changes to affect a more positive change. But it crept up on me without my realising it. I've also tended to separate myself (read: dissociate) from the job problem, even though I've generally been there in the moment for virtually every other aspect of my life this past year. It's an old, ingrained repsonse to fear, you see. I tried not to take the layoff personally, because I knew logically that it wasn't meant to be personal, but it was still a blow to my self-esteem, and I suppose a natural one, especially since other positions were created and hired for that were much bigger chunks of money, and other libraries in the system went through virtually unaffected. I had worked so hard at taking an underutilised position and really making it work for the hospital--for staff, for families, and for the patients. I became involved in a lot of interdiscplinary teams and knew virtually every one of the staff. I really interconnected. Everyone knew they could call with a question and I could find them the information. Mind you, I did all this whilst privately becoming depressed and suicidal under the weight of years of personal issues.
Now my position has been degraded to the point where I'm not sure they'll even continue to have a librarian should I leave; I suspect they'll take it back to 'added duties' for a secretary like it was years ago. They don't require a master's anymore; it's 'preferred'. I'm not on the leadership team. They decided to pare that down at some point. I've had to drop out of some the committees I was on because I'm only working four hours a day; I couldn't continue training to help with the new computer system, I'm not on the patient/family education team anymore, even though I'm the one who runs the resource centre. Most recently, it looks like the one remaining outside project I coordinate--the website--will be given to another department, even though I hand-coded all our pages and put so much effort into it. Each time they make these changes, they emphasise that it's not because of any problem with my work, that they're happy with my work and know how much effort I've put into it all. But. After awhile it starts to wear down at a person's self-esteem. The only thing that I'm doing now that a secretary with some training couldn't do is actual information retrieval and some of the harder interlibrary loans. Granted, those two things alone are worth their weight in gold for our staff. People always balk at the idea of librarians going to graduate school to 'learn how to shelve books', but that experience is translated into an almost magical ability to find and evaluate information. We make it look easy, but people know from their own trials that it isn't.
I suppose a lot of the reason I'm let down is of my own making. I came into this position, my first, with a lot of exhuberance and without meaning to expanded their concept of a librarian from day one, just doing what I was trained to do. They really hadn't had much in the way of services before. And once I got a handle on things, I guess I just naturally expanded services as I went along. Maybe I was too big for the position. I could work like 2-3 people and it wasn't going to ever really be rewarded. But I had hope. And then this.
The irony, of course, is that I'm very good at what I do professionally. And the experience at my current job has been invaluable. I basically had to build library services from the ground up, become versed in the institutional oddities of healthcare, network with librarians within our system, local consortia, and beyond, and do it with no other librarians in the building. That's pretty spectacular, when I think of it. And maybe that's what I need to be concentrating on. That, and translating the excitement I get in doing my job well to another position.
I want to do well. I want to find a position that pays me what I'm worth (or at least enough for room and board!) I don't want to be living in my car. I want stability in my life. I've worked so hard to get my internal life in order; now it's time to work on the external. My only real stress these days is financial, after all. That's saying a lot. I've finally gotten the skills I need to handle my finances; I just have so few of them. :) And lest you think I'm just another person bemoaning life, my reduced salary comes out to gross about US$13,000 a year, about $10,000 less than last year. The library jobs I'm applying for range from $33,000-$40,000 a year. So I definitely need to be changing that subtext, hmm?
The good news is I have ten jobs to apply for this week. That's more at one time than I've seen in quite awhile. I would enjoy any of them. And somehow, having written out my feelings, I'm more excited about applying for--and even getting one--than I have been in a long while. I think the negative emotions are being replaced with the positive; it was just a matter of being aware of them, writing about them in black and white, and looking at the good that can come from this challenge.
Whew! I didn't mean to make the Slant the vehicle for dealing with that, but I think it's helped to have a starting point. And it is something that has been pivotal in the last year, and will probably affect the coming one immensely.
As to the rest of the Slant...one of the best things about the year involved friendships. That is, I ended one that was extremely toxic, and yet I've developed deep, positive friendships, too. My friendship, for all that it nearly broke down during mine, is a wonderful relationship now, for the first time as two adults, rather than mentor/student. It's a unique blend of supportive when I need it but the type where I'll be knocked over the head with reality when needed, too. Dwana is incredibly supportive. Hers is a softer kind of frienship, but one I've really needed. Sometimes it's important just to have another girl to hang with, you know? Someone who respects you (unlike that toxic friendship), and who is willing to take your support, too. And on a wider scale, I have quite a few acquaintances I'm seeing socially. With my anxiety issues and social phobia, I really couldn't do that before. I feel more connected to others in general. That's quite positive, for someone who's been pretty alone most of her life. I used to keep people at arm's length; now I'm more open with people, and I've become a very good listener. Who knew it was possible?
I also have been blessed with a wonderful family. My family life growing up was always strained. My mother and John are very supportive of me, not just in terms of the material (car and last-minute avoidances of eviction), but in terms of encouragement, too. Whereas my mom I think frets about me, John has always made it clear that he thinks I have a lot going for me and that I can do anything I set my mind to. I don't know how to express how much this means to me, having had a father who was denigrating and competitve. And I know my mom worries but also thinks I can succeed.
I have to admit, I'm looking forward to the coming year. I have no doubt it'll bring lots of change. I have to admit, sometimes I fear change. I've had some very traumatic ones in my life. But maybe it's time to tap into the most positive thing about being a military brat; the ability to adapt to new situations and look forward to new horizons. And for once, I'm not starting over, I'm building on a pretty decent foundation.
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