These last 7 months - Part II
I left the job to my abusive boss behind. The longer I stayed away from there, the more I was able to detect things I didn’t before that made her such a toxic manager in the first place. I’m still hurt. Nothing was ever good enough for her. Every attaboy was always followed up with a wagging finger. There were so many contradictions.
Eventually I worked for a salon and was fired exactly two weeks later for asking about taxes.
I had never worked for a salon before, but had been reassured my educational credentials was perfect for being a receptionist. The hours weren’t ideal, but still weren’t too unlike what I’d already been working at the cleaners. I was eager though! I could do this!
Everyday I came in with my fresh new notebook to take notes, and did extra research on different procedures and programs on the days I wasn’t there that the salon worked with. 2 hours working, 3 times a week to start. I was only there for 12 hours total. Working at a salon was different from an office. But I was willing and happy to learn. I never refused an opportunity to do something. I tried very hard to get to know the ladies there.
Getting to know the ladies was the most difficult task.
Many of these women in some way or another were friends of the owner of the company, or were some way or another formerly family friends or high school acquaintances. The receptionist that train me was a hard woman. Impatient. Cold. A couple years my senior. Any small talk I attempted was brushed aside. She did not want to get to know me. I quickly realized she saw me as a nuisance and looked at me the way a high school girl does that thinks another girl is beneath her.
I received equal distance from the other women, except for a young aesthetician who was a sweet girl right out of high school. They would all go out for drinks together. I was never invited.
In my attempts to fit in I got my hair done. Blonde highlights. I tried to “match” their aesthetic. Oh yes. Everything in an after school special that preaches about you being you is right. It did nothing for me but made me more of an outsider.
That wasn’t why I was fired though.
On a lazy Friday when I wasn’t working I did laundry. When I got back from the laundry room I saw I had missed a call on my cell.
Listening to the message I could hear the manager on her phone. In the background there was the chatter of the salon. Her chipper tone was reassuring. She said she was back from her trip and wanted to know if I could work the weekend shift. It had only been 3 minutes since she left a call. Excellent!
I happily called her back.
Her tone was still fantastically upbeat. I asked her how the trip was. We made mild small-talk.
“Before we get any farther though I want to ask you about the tax forms that I filled out.” I had said. “Can I get a copy of those? I’m kind of a stickler about record-keeping”.
“Actually... I wanted to let you know this isn’t working out.”
“This job seems too hard for you. The girl training you in says that this is all too overwhelming to you. This salon just doesn’t seem like a good match.”
I’m standing by the patio at this point. Looking out at the flowers. Focusing on those red blooms I’ve been working so hard to keep alive. She’s telling me it’s nothing personal. I’m just not meant to work for a salon. I know I’ve been fired. But I still can’t comprehend it. This is the first time this has ever happened to me. Am I cursed??
It would take me a day or so to even realize the reason she was firing me wasn’t because of my performance, but because they aren’t paying income tax and my inquiry could start an audit.
“Are you telling me that I’m fired?”
“I don’t understand. I guess... goodbye.”
I hang up before she can say goodbye.
For a moment I do nothing. I bathe in the sunlit. Try and think of what my next move is. I call my husband but at this point I’m still not even crying... just stunned. After I tell my husband the news, he gives his sympathies and reassurance and we finally hang up, I’m still standing there.
A darkness that’s been bubbling forever spills over. And I feel like the last seam that is splitting open finally does in me.
I am so useless. I am a burden.
My first thought is how difficult it will be to pay the bills. How stupid I was for leaving the cleaners in the first place. I should’ve never looked for another job. I should’ve stayed where I was. I was stupid for thinking I could do anything more. Pursuing a career was stupid.
At that moment I hated everything in me and wanted to destroy every piece of myself.
In the silence and being alone my thoughts go to a dark place. I think about how erasing myself would affect my loved ones. I think about if there even is a “good way” of killing myself that won’t completely and totally scar the love of my life. I try and do the math to see if he could even afford the apartment, food, bills, and the cats if I died. I think to myself if I have to go through the logistics to see if my husband can literally live without me I need help.
I look up the number for the Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) and hold for twenty minutes. My hands are shaking. I feel like I have my crying finally under control when a woman with an older sounding voice answers the phone.
“Hi um... I’m not suicidal or anything...” I try to clarify. (I try to tell myself that.)
“It’s okay. I’m here to listen. What’s been going on with your life?”
I choke on my breath. I can’t control my tears. They come out hard. I sit on the ottoman, my face in my hand and start to sob into my phone.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who else to call...”
My whole story comes pouring out. And once it starts, I can’t stop. I tell her everything. I tell her my feelings. I tell her how lonely I’ve felt and no matter how hard I’ve worked, I’ve still failed. I tell her that I feel like I shouldn’t call because people have worse problems than me. I tell her I feel selfish for taking up the line. I tell her how much I hate myself for thinking switching careers was a good move. I tell her all these things.
Her calm tone is reassuring. She asks me if I have a strong support network. She asks me if I can lean on them while I go through what I’m going through. I tell her yes. I tell her that I don’t know what to do next. I ask if she knows any resources for me to go to for finding employment. She gives me references for agencies and help online.
I talk to her a little longer before I feel confident that I can be left alone. I thank her for taking the time to talk to me.
“You’re welcome. I want you to know no matter what you’re going through you can always call our line. Please don’t be afraid to call.”
I start crying again at that. “Thank you. I will.”
When my husband gets home I tell him about reaching out to the Lifeline. At first he’s worried. But I’m able to reassure him. That they were able to help me and I told him the details of today so far. As always, he is supportive and is relieved I took action that helped save me. We talk for a long time that night.
I immediately reopen my resume for Indeed. I fill out 28 applications that day.
One company calls me back immediately at 7:24 pm that night. (Part III)
I want to clarify that the Suicide Prevention Lifeline is there for people experiencing a crisis. You don’t have to be suicidal to call. They are also available if you are seeking emotional support! PLEASE DO NOT HESITATE TO CALL THEM!! THEY ARE FANTASTIC!
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If you are reading this, thank you for hanging on for the journey. The next part of this continued post does get better, I promise.
