On Spiraling
getting fired will set you free, but first it will make you question your competence
I got fired this week. And even though I hated my job and it was slowly compacting my soul into a tiny cube of waste, it still felt lousy to lose the job. Rejection hurts. Even from a place that was toxic and terrible.
For a minute I thought I’d write a scathing expose on my former employer—revenge via substack! But I decided to defer the endeavor after reading another substack, a delightful newsletter by
& called Joy Ride, who say:Share your story, yes.
Tell trusted people about what happened and get support, yes.
But maybe instead of trying to write a book [or a scathing newsletter] about it right now, you should paint a rock or stare at a sunset or go for a walk.
It is not required to package up our trauma as quickly as possible for the sake of a good story.
It is not necessary to process it as quickly as possible for the sake of public consumption.
Maybe instead you could find one small way to take care of you.
This reminded me of a game I used to play as a girl. In front of the row of houses on my street ran an open ditch and my friends—two sisters next door—and I would sit with our feet in the ditch, dip a stick in the water, and “paint” the nearby rocks until they turned dark, set them to dry in the sun, and begin again. We carried on this way for hours. It was one of my favorite childhood pastimes.
But since I don’t have an open ditch in my yard at the moment, I’ve been coping by eating junk food and binging mindless television.
The scariest part of being fired (apart from the loss of income) is the maw of time it opens up. Oh, great, now I actually have time to devote to all those art/writing projects I’m always complaining not to have enough time for. And what if I’m just as incompetent at writing too? What if this lifelong slog is all for nothing?
Normally, I’d end here with an upbeat turn. A realization! A just-keep-going motif! And I’ll probably get there. But for now, I’m writing this in lieu of painting rocks. A small way to take care of myself. Because I’m out of M&Ms and Cool Ranch Doritos.
I’m sorry about the job! Even if it’s toxic and soul-draining, you’re right, being told you’re not wanted or needed stings. 😔 Here’s hoping some lucrative rocks show up so you can paint them! (And then sell them.)