you have found me so undone.
i’m in san diego, eating breakfast that’s been delivered to my room by the kindest room server. it feel like i should be really happy and excited because, if we go by appearance, i’m at the height of luxury. my company paid for a round trip ticket to san diego, put me up in a 4 star hotel and is paying for all my travel & entertainment expenses.
but looks are deceiving.
the past few months (it feels like weeks, days even) have been marked by a lot of chaos and loss. i’ve been to a handful of funerals since january and to top it all off, my entire department was fired in one fell swoop two weeks ago. they kept 8 people, myself included. i know i should feel lucky. i know that it is technically a positive. but most days, it feels like a punishment. to sit at my desk day after day and be deluged with meetings about transitioning things, while watching the dumpsters grow as people throw out their awards and personal belongings. the garbage heap is right next to my cubicle and the higher the pile grows, the stronger the weight in my stomach seems to be. i’ve had a hard time falling asleep and i’ve dreaded going into the office for two weeks because every day was one more tick towards the last days of so many.
today and tomorrow marks the dreaded last days of people who have been with me at my company since i started. and because i am in san diego and not new york city, i am missing it. i hate saying goodbye. but more than that, i hate the feeling of permanence that some of them bring. i cannot bear to bring myself to formally say goodbye to people who i’ve genuinely become close to. it’s not just that we’ve worked together– it’s that we’ve been together for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week and now i know them. i like knowing about their families, their spouses, their health issues. whatever this organization is, it is (for the most part) filled with smart, kind, funny people. it is hard for me to look at this situation and say i’m better off because i know how many of these people struggle. so maybe it is a good thing i’m not there. because i don’t know how my heart could possibly hold in all of the sadness that i have about all of this.
another strange thing, amidst all of this, is that i haven’t been alone in the longest time.
but here i am, in another city, completely alone. i don’t know anybody. i don’t know where to go. and i sure as hell don’t know what to do around here. it’s a little frightening because i don’t remember how to be alone. i don’t remember how to eat by myself. i feel as though i’ve lost a little bit of my bravery because i have become so reliant on those around me, become so invested in those around me. it’s like i’ve gone through the process of osmosis and lost a bit of myself in others. it’s weird to be standing on my own, even if only for a few days.
for most people, spring is this season of bloom and new beginnings. it’s been strange to have that happening around me while mired in my own sense of loss and sadness. i see it but i’m not part of it; it’s surrounding me but i still can’t touch it.
this is the first time i’ve written anything in a while.
maybe this is good for me. to be alone, to be away.
maybe this will help me make sense of everything.
maybe i can start to piece myself back together.